Page 74 of Forbidden Grumpy Boss

Of course, they do.

The scandal has spread like wildfire, and the vultures are circling. My supposed sins have given every idiot with a grievance a platform. I glance at the protesters again. Half of them probably don’t even know what they’re here for. But they’ve got a cause now, and I’m the target.

“Any idea who organized this?” I ask, though I already have a sneaking suspicion.

Jean shrugs, wiping his brow. “Some activist group. But between you and me, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was someone with deeper pockets. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a protest this organized over something like this, and I shot movies with Polanski.”

Deeper pockets.Yeah, that tracks. Harvey comes to mind immediately. I bet he slipped a few bills under the table to rile these people up. But proving that would take more time than I have. Proving it wouldn’t change anything, either.

“What are we gonna do? Production is behind schedule, and we’re hemorrhaging cash as the budget will keep increasing as long as we have the cast and crew on the payroll even though we aren’t shooting.”

I’m about to respond when a hand clasps my shoulder.

I see Cassian Sterling grinning at me, all six-foot-something of him, towering with easy confidence. Although his buzz cut and chiseled jawline give him that all-American soldier look, it’s the hard look in his eyes that tells me he’s been through more than a few battles—both real and metaphorical.

“Cass.”

“How’s it going, old man?” Cassian’s grin widens, but before I can reply, he waves it off. “Scratch that. Stupid question.”

I snort, shaking my head. Cassian doesn’t do bullshit, which is one of the reasons I like him.

“Get the fuck outta here, you cunts!” Jean yells at the crowd, who pump their cardboard in the air like guns.

I read one of the colorful signs being carried by a long-haired man dressed like a hobo:We won’t support Sexual Predators even if they make movies we like.The words are squeezed onto the board, and I wonder if he couldn’t have written something shorter and, hell, smarter.

“Grim,” Cassian says, standing beside me.

“Quite.”

“How’s Leah taking it?”

“I haven’t seen her all day.”

I think Leah’s avoiding me, which is understandable. She once told me how much she hated being in the spotlight, and now, she has one directly fixed on her. It’s no surprise that she doesn’t want to be around me.

“This shit sucks.”

“Ezra would’ve found a way to make a joke about it.”

Cassian chuckles, remembering his friend—my brother. “That’s Ezra. The man could make you smile, even if you just heard your mother died of cancer.”

I laugh softly. The crowd doesn’t like that, as their chants get louder and their signs reach higher.Okay, sorry for laughing.

“How you holding up?” I ask Cassian. “Any girl in your life? Preferably something less complicated than mine.”

He rubs his head. “There’s one girl.”

“Yeah?”

“But I haven’t seen her in years.” Cassian wets his lip. “It’s funny that I haven’t seen her in so long, but I’ve never really forgotten her, you know?”

“Trust me, I get it.”

My mind goes to the five-year interval between Rome and seeing Leah again. I thought about her semi-frequently, and even though I got involved with some other women during that period, I never really forgot Leah.

There was just something about her that stuck with me.

“You want to get out of here?” he offers, jerking his thumb toward the exit. “I know a place around the corner that serves drinks strong enough to make you forget your troubles for a couple of hours.”

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