Page 37 of Grumpy Boss in Love

“So I was your last resort?” I seethed.

Elliot blinked. “Why the hell does it matter? It won’t be a real relationship.”

Right. Why was I peeved about being his last choice? “Find somebody else to play along with your fake marriage plot.” I gave him a stare so cold, I really hoped it froze his testicles. He had some nerve trying to involve me in his ludicrous charade.

“I’m willing to pay big.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t want your money.”

Elliot crossed his arms and hit me with what I called theCEO stare. He was ready to talk business. I hit him with my besttake a hike, you jerklook.

“Two hundred thousand,” he began.

I snorted.

“Five hundred.”

I folded my arms to mimic him.

“You're right, that’s not nearly enough,” he said. “Shall we discuss seven figures?”

My jaw slackened, but I managed to keep my mouth firmly shut. Holy cow. What I could do with that much money… I could quit my job as a half-naked waitress who was ogled by men who probably had wives and children at home. I could buy a decent car, pay rent without having to sacrifice groceries, and even get a jump start on my future business plans. But at what cost?

I glanced at Elliot and snorted inwardly. Sell my soul to the handsome devil…

“Think about it, Ruby,” he cajoled. “You said you wanted to start your own business. That’s not going to take just hard work and confidence. It’s also going to take money. And what if I tell you that you’ll have a secure job at Westwood Collective at the end of your internship?”

My teeth sank into my lower lip. The temptation. In the end, my pride and integrity said:fuck no. “I’m not going to sell myself to you, Elliot.”

His jaw dropped. “What? That’s not… When you say it like that… Why would you…?” His descent into a sputtering mess pleased me. I bet not many managed to render Elliot Westwood tongue-tied. “Don’t start with the dramatics, Ruby,” he finally articulated. “I’m not asking you to sell yourself to me, you crazy woman.”

“You asked me to be your fake wife for money andI’mthe crazy one?” My derisive snort resonated.

Elliot sighed. “It’ll be a temporary business arrangement. Maybe?—”

“No. Like I said, find someone else.” Gabe had parked the car minutes ago, so I was able to scramble to open the door and hop out.

“What are you doing?” Elliot asked. “Ruby, get back in here. We’re not done.”

Hand on the door, ready to slam it in his face, I said, “Yes, we are.”

“Just wait.”

I paused to glower at him.

“At least think about it.” He shrugged. “Give me an answer tomorrow morning.”

We had a stare-down, but I didn’t bother to tell him that no matter how long I took to consider his offer, the answer would still be no.

* * *

I shuffled toward my apartment, dog-tired from a shift at Luxe Elite. The only thing that had kept me going through the night was Megan’s presence at work. Although I couldn't share what transpired between Elliot and me, including our kiss, it was always nice to hang out with her even at work.

If only I could spend the day bumming out at home, watching TV with Megan like we used to do when we lived together. However, I had to ignore the exhaustion that seeped into my very bones and go to my other job. I was not looking forward to spending all day putting up with Caroline’s shit.

“One and a half more months to go. You can do it,” I told myself. Still, at the end of my internship, if I landed a job at Westwood Collective, I would still be stuck under Caroline’s evil thumb. The thought made me heave a sigh as I opened the door.

Something on the floor caught my eye. When I looked down, my breath escaped in a disappointed whoosh even though I’d been expecting it. On a white envelope were the words:Eviction Noticein bold red letters.

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