Page 14 of Grumpy Boss in Love

That fiery determination that was always in her eyes wasn’t there this morning, and it bothered me. Was her defeated air my fault? I dropped into my chair and reached for the coffee cup. My attraction to Ruby (which I still tried my hardest to ignore) aside, she made me feel… human. I’d never felt the powerful urge to apologize to someone the way I did at the moment.

However, before I could call Caroline in the marketing department to have her send Ruby back up, there was a knock on my door.

“Yes, Simone?”

She only stuck her head around the door as if afraid to bring the rest of her body inside. “I’m reminding you about your nine o’clock, sir.”

I grunted out a response, but when I glanced at Ryan’s grinning image and remembered how he always told me to show people my “softer side,” I said, “Simone?”

“Yes, Mr. Westwood?” She eyed me with the fear I’d come to expect from most in the office.

“Thank you.”

Simone blinked and continued to stare at me as if I’d transformed into a new species before her eyes. “Uh… You’re welcome.” Her gaze swept the office, probably checking for signs of the spaceship that must have abducted the real me.

When I lifted my eyebrows, her face flushed, and she quickly shut the door.

6

RUBY

Ineeded a stiff drink or two… ortenand another half an hour to lock myself in a bathroom and cry. This morning, I’d had to cut my bathroom weeping session down to five minutes because The Scowlmeister a.k.a Elliot Westwood needed his coffee.

Of all the interns in the land, he’d picked me to bring him his morning java. No doubt it was his way of continuing to make my life hell as payback for always giving him sass when I was under his thumb as his student. I wasstillunder the iron ruler’s thumb. Lucky me.

Between Elliot and Caroline, the marketing manager from hell, I’d had the worst week. As I trudged to my car at the other end of Westwood Collective’s parking lot, I wanted to burst into tears again. My dream internship had turned into a nightmare. I’d even been reduced to wearing dull suits and flats. Me, fashionista Ruby Bennet, who lived for color, had become one of the dreary executives I’d mocked at the beginning of the week. My soul had been sucked out in the space of five days.

All to fit in and impress a woman who hated my guts on sight. Since I was determined to get Caroline to like me and treat me like a human being, I’d volunteered to stay late to perform a shitload of research, update Westwood Collective’s social media platforms, and write a bunch of copies for post.

In the end, all Caroline had said was, “Great. See you on Monday, Rosie.” The bitch very well knew that my name wasn’tRosie.

“I will not quit. I will not break under the pressure. I will not let the bitchy manager or the grumpy CEO win.” Maybe if I chanted enough, I’d get back a little pep in my step.

Once I reached my car, I jumped in, glad to put Westwood Collective behind me for the weekend. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get as blindingly drunk as I wanted tonight because I had to work a shift at Luxe Elite.

“There’s always tomorrow,” I sighed, shoving my key into the ignition. To my dismay, when I turned the key, the car just coughed and sputtered, much like an asthmatic donkey.

“No, no, no. Come on, Rusty, don’t do this to me now.” Not after the day I’d had. Since I’d stayed late, I only had about three hours to get home and prepare for my shift at Luxe Elite. “Come on, baby, work with mama. Pretty please.”

Rust Bucket, as I affectionately called my piece of crap car, had been faithful for four years. I’d gotten it for a little more than nothing because it was pretty much junkyard-ready. My brother-in-law, Damian, had been appalled when he saw Rusty.

He’d said, “Ruby, please tell me you don’t drive around in this thing.”

I’d responded, “Don’t be rude, you’ll hurt Rusty’s feelings.”

He had scoffed and said, “Well, Rusty is a fucking death trap.”

Damian wasn’t wrong, but this car was the best I could do right now. He’d offered to buy me a new one but I refused. My pride wouldn’t allow me to accept a brand-new car from my rich brother-in-law.

I tried starting Rusty again, but the poor thing let out a choke and then went dead. A defeated groan escaped me as I sat back, and then I burst into tears. I’d been holding them back for hours. After indulging in my pity party for another minute, I popped the hood and got out. Pulling in a deep breath, I stared at the cluster of thingamajigs that made vehicles go vroom. Of course, I had no idea what the hell I was looking for.

My frustration got the better of me, and I dropped my face into my hands and started sobbing again. The parking lot was just about empty, so I was safe to bawl to my heart’s content.

“Ruby?”

I gasped at the sound of Elliot’s voice. The way I sucked my next sob back in, I almost choked on it. “Oh my gosh,” I whispered as I hurriedly dashed my tears and squared my shoulders. I slowly turned to see him getting out the back of a sleek black SUV. Of course, Prince Westwood had a chauffeured vehicle.

“Mr. Westwood,” I greeted cooly.

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