Page 14 of Forbidden Grumpy Boss

She meets my gaze for one last searing moment, then turns sharply on her heel and heads for the door, leaving behind the scent of her perfume—something warm and spicy that lingers long after she’s gone.

I don’t know whether to be relieved or utterly terrified. Either way, tomorrow, she’ll be here, in this office, working with me. Every day. All day.

Shit.

***

Later that evening, I meet Harvey Grayson at the casino for our weekly poker night. The place is a little too grandiose for my taste. Crystal chandeliers, scantily-dressed ladies, red velvet chairs, and walls dripping with gold accents. But Harvey loves this scene. He fits right in, with his cigar clenched between his teeth, his tailored three-piece suit perfectly pressed, looking every bit like the old money bastard he is.

Harvey’s been my closest friend for the past four years. We met on a yacht during one of the governor’s Christmas parties, and we hit it off immediately. Harvey’s the quintessential old-money billionaire. He owns a movie studio and changes girlfriends like clothes off the rack. Unsurprisingly, many of his girlfriends are half his age, making them around twenty-five.

We’re deep into a hand when Harvey grins at me, smoke curling lazily from his cigar. “How’s the acquisition going? Are you close to sealing the deal?”

I shake my head, the Caldwells crossing my mind. “No, man. They are proving to be difficult. I mean, it’s twenty billion dollars. You’d think they’d be jumping at the opportunity to sell off their company.”

“Family companies are always a bitch to buy.” Harvey palms his salt-and-pepper hair, and I notice his hair is thinning. Something I’d never mention to him.

I’ve been trying to buy Caldwell Media for the last few months. I need their streaming platform and theatre chain to distribute my studio’s upcoming debut movie and other movies we plan to release. The Caldwells are being difficult to negotiate with, and it’s taking years off my life.

“You know I can distribute the movie for you, right?” Harvey says, bringing up a conversation we already had. “I don’t know why you want your own media company. I have a studio. Let someone else handle the distribution of your movies.”

I shake my head, smiling. I don’t like to mix business with friendship. I’m shrewd, so I am where I am today.

“I’m going to end up buying it.” A waiter comes around, handing me a glass of whiskey. “They know it, and I know it too. They’re just trying to drive up the price, I think.”

“Those fucking Englishmen.” Harvey tsks. “They’re just as greedy as we are, but they hide it with posh accents.Oh, cheerio, fancy a cup of tea?” he does a terrible British accent. “Pricks.”

Sometimes, I wonder how Harvey has successfully run his studio for years without any major scandal. Because the things he says sometimes are a bit much. Even for me.

“The Caldwells are coming to America soon,” I say. “So, we’ll have a meeting, and I’ll let you know how that goes.”

We stay silent for a while, playing our game, until he breaks the silence. “So, Silas, you’ll never guess who’s back in town.”

I raise a brow. “Who?”

“My daughter,” he says, tapping his cigar on the ashtray and shifting in his chair. “She’s been away for years, but I hope to introduce you two finally. If she’ll give me the time of day, that is.”

I lean back in my chair, caring more about my cards than what he’s saying. Harvey’s daughter has been this elusive figure for as long as I’ve known him. I’ve never even seen a picture of her. He always says he’ll introduce me to her. But she obviously can’t stand his guts because she never comes around.

“You say that all the time, man,” I say, flipping my cards over. “She hates your guts. Why’d you think she’s gonna like me?”

Harvey chuckles, taking a puff of his cigar. “Oh, she’ll like you, and you’d like her. Smart, independent, doesn’t take crap from anyone. Reminds me of you, actually.”

I snort, taking a sip of whiskey. “Sounds like a dream.”

“Maybe, one day, she’ll let me introduce you properly,” he says.

“Are you trying to set me up with your daughter?” I glance at him.

“What?” His face turns red. “That’s disgusting, man. She’s half your age, for God’s sake.”

“Your new girlfriend’s half my age, Harvey. Way to have some self-awareness.” I chuckle.

“But she’s not your daughter, is she?” He moves his chips, smoke curling from his mouth. “Prick,” he mutters, and I laugh.

Harvey’s fiercely protective of his estranged daughter, and I know it. So I yank his chain whenever I can. I don’t plan on getting together with my best friend’s kid. I’m a bastard, but not that kind of bastard.

Leah is still circling in my mind like a damn storm cloud. Her face, the way she looked at me when she walked into my office today . . .hell. The past is supposed to stay buried, isn’t it? But now I’m going to see her again tomorrow morning, and every part of me is dreading it. Then why the fuck did I offer her the job? Some kind of recompense for what I did to her?

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