Page 20 of Grumpy Boss in Love

I laughed, but I really wanted to break down in tears. “Yeah, and you can stop saying it now.”Please. Every time one of my sisters mentioned how proud they were of me, I felt awful. However, I kept up the facade of things going smoothly because I didn’t want them to worry or offer me money.

“Alright,” Lucy said, “I won’t take up your time with my sappy mom-mode talk.”

“I appreciate sappy mom mode,” I returned with a little laugh as a tear slid down my cheek.

She laughed. “Bye, Rubes. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I hung up, heaved a sigh, and took a huge gulp of my Mai Tai. Another tear streamed down my cheek, but I wiped it away and squared my shoulders.

Rule number one of making it in the business world: never let them see you sweat… or in this case, cry. Before I could push myself off the wall I leaned against, I heard voices. Angry ones.

I drew back, not wanting whoever was arguing to see me and think I was being nosey.

“You’re divorcing, Jane? Seriously?”

Elliot?I’d know that swoon-worthy deep timber anywhere… not that I was ready to swoon. The man just had a sexy voice.

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” another gruff, impatient voice returned.

“Jesus, Dad, after the way you've treated her your entire marriage,youfeel the need to file for a divorce?”

Dad? Sheer curiosity tempted me to peep around the wall. I knew what Oliver Westwood looked like since I’d gone on another Google rampage to research the Westwoods after Elliot shared the sad details about his brother in his car.

“Give the woman a little respect for once!” Elliot roared.

“We’re done here,” his father said. “I’m going to show my face at the party because God forbid you emerge from your brooding to interact with people like a normal human being. Ryan was sociable. Too bad he died, leaving you as my successor.”

Elliot snorted. “You know, Dad, constantly hinting that you wish I was the one who died is getting old.”

I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle my gasp as my heart broke for Elliot. Did his father really do that to him often? What a monster. No wonder why Elliot was so crabby all the time.

“Just mind your fucking business, Elliot,” Oliver said. “Jane and I have nothing to do with you.”

“Fair enough,” Elliot snapped. “What about my mother then? Did you know that she passed last week? Do you even care?”

My jaw dropped. His mother died? From my research, I knew that Jane Westwood was Elliot’s stepmother. I’d dug up some decades-old dirt on the Westwoods about an affair and an illegitimate child… Elliot.

“Goodbye, Elliot,” Oliver grunted.

I pressed my hand to my chest. Poor Elliot. Now my misery and tears seemed trivial. Footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, and I waited until I was sure the two men had left. When I stepped around the corner, I gasped and halted. Elliot still stood there with his hands in his pockets and his chin tucked into his chest.

His head snapped up, and our eyes locked. There was sheer agony in his gorgeous blues. “I… um… was just…”

His eyebrows snapped together, and his expression twisted into fury. And the scary Elliot was back. He practically snarled. “Eavesdropping?”

“No! I was on my phone and…” My gaze still lingered on his face. “Are you okay?”

The muscles in his jaw tightened and relaxed repeatedly, then he just wheeled around and marched off.

I gawked for only a second before I followed him. “Hey, do you want me to get you a drink from inside?” I had to jog to keep up with his long strides. “It’s an open bar. Of course, you probably know that since you’re paying for it. But if you don’t want to go in there and you need a drink, I can help you out.” I mentally slapped my forehead for babbling.

He rounded on me with such a furious look that I stopped and took a retreating step. Since we’d both halted abruptly, we almost collided. We stood centimeters apart, but I couldn’t say we were face to face since my head barely reached his shoulders. It was understandable at that moment why plenty of people found him intimidating. He was pretty imposing and when he added that scowl…Yikes.

“Ruby, stop talking and go away,” he said in a scarily soft tone.

My lips folded to hold back my sassy retort because I understood his foul mood. After what I’d just heard, Elliot deserved a free pass to be a dick tonight. I searched the chiseled angles of his face with sympathy. Three weeks ago, the pain of losing his brother had been dredged up. Last week, he lost his mother. Talk about a shitty month.

“Yes, I’ll do that now. Good night, Elliot.”

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