Page 17 of Forbidden Grumpy Boss

“Right,” I say, my voice tight. “Got it.”

Silas doesn’t look at me again as he grabs his jacket and heads for the door. “We’ll catch up later.”

I watch him leave, my eyes lingering on how his broad back fills out his suit jacket. God, why does he have to be so . . .him? I breathe and try to steady my racing heart and throbbing depth.

I really,reallyneed to get laid. This isn’t about Silas. It’s about me being sex-deprived. I don’t care about him.

I swear, I don’t.

***

An hour later, I’m buried in emails. When, suddenly, there’s a knock on my door. Before I can respond, the door swings open, and a young boy with wild brown hair, smudged glasses, and an oversized hoodie walks in. His eyes flick to mine, and there’s a flicker of defiance in them before he plops down in the chair across from my desk.

“I guess you’re the new assistant,” he says, his voice flat.

“And who are you?” I smile at the young man.

“I’m Caleb.” He removes his glasses, and I see he has his father’s eyes. “I’m gonna need you to call my dad.”

“Yeah?” I close my laptop. “Why?”

“I got in a fight in school, and I was asked to come with him.” He’s trying to look unbothered, but I can tell he’s scared.

I grab my phone and dial Silas’s number, unhappy about having to speak to him so soon after he’s left.

Chapter six

Silas

I’ve had better ideas.I’ve had worse ideas, too. But this one, where I agreed to sit across from Henry Caldwell and his wife, might be the worst. I press my phone to my ear, waiting outside the restaurant for a quick breather before heading in. Kane’s voice comes through the line, clear but tight.

“Just be restrained, Silas. Whatever you do, don’t mention anything personal. You may say something that’d mess things up completely.”

Restrained? Right. I shove my free hand into my pocket, glancing up at the towering building in front of me. Why am I even here? Oh, right. Because Caldwell Media is the only company that could boost my holdings, and Henry Caldwell’s old-fashioned ass refuses to sign off on selling it. Kane, his son, might be the company's future, but for now, Henry still holds the reins. And the reins are pulled so tight the man’s knuckles must be white.

“I’ll do my best,” I tell Kane, but I’m already thinking about Leah. It’s stupid, really. I need to focus. But damn it, the way she walked in on me earlier, catching me half-naked, just like that night years ago in Rome, has me rattled.

Her eyes had done that thing again, trailing over me like she was soaking in every inch. And maybe I stood a little taller and took my time buttoning my shirt, just to see if she’d keep looking. Spoiler alert: she did.

“Silas?”

“Yeah, sorry. I got it, Kane. How’s Tamara?”

“She’s great.” His voice gets a little softer. We’re happy. I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been, man.”

“I’m really happy to hear that.”

“I owe you,” Kane says.

“You’re starting to make it up to me already. Anyway, wish me good luck. I can’t keep them waiting any longer.”

“Of course. Let me know how it goes. Good luck, Silas.”

I hang up, push the phone into my jacket, and take a deep breath. Kane and his then-fiancée, Tamara, had taken a break, and I’d played cupid. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because I wanted someone else to have the joy I never got.

But for now, it’s time to face the Caldwells.

The restaurant is upscale, the kind of place where even the air feels expensive, rich with the scent of truffle oil and dry-aged beef. Dim lights, dark wood, heavy red drapes. The kind of place that matches Henry Caldwell’s old-money vibe perfectly. I spot them at a corner table; Henry, thin and pale, wearing a suit that looks like it hasn’t been updated since the Reagan Administration, and his wife; Elizabeth, her pearls gleaming under the low light.

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