Page 89 of Grumpy Boss in Love

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and decided that this was the day that I got my shit together. Of course, that's what I said yesterday and the day before that only to continue my pity party sprawled on Tessa’s couch.

I knew I couldn’t hide out here forever. I had to return to Chicago by next Tuesday for an interview. Brand Catalyst was one of the firms I’d applied to when I was hung up on deciding whether I should stay at Westwood Collective or not. Audrey Bailey, the owner of the firm, said she was impressed by my application and resume, short though it was. She was willing to give me a shot.

Things are looking up, I thought as I headed downstairs to raid Tessa’s kitchen. She’d left earlier to check on things at her inn. Just as I had gathered an assortment of baked goods onto a plate and was ready to dig in, my phone rang.

My disappointment at the interruption disappeared as soon as I saw who was calling.

“Nic, hey.” Lucy’s husband had been like a big brother to me growing up. I adored him.

“Hey, Rubes. How are you?”

“Doing better today.”

“Good, good, because you’re about to be pissed…”

My eyebrows snapped together. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I was on the streets today riding along with one of the new officers when we pulled this guy over.”

My eyeballs rolled around, as I wondered why Nic thought I’d care about random people that he pulled over, but I listened.

“He looked suspicious, driving at a snail's pace and staring at every house he passed. He said he was new in town and got lost. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on who he was. When I checked his license…”

“What?” I asked. “Who is he?”

“Elliot Westwood.”

My heart missed a beat then picked up speed. Phone pressed to my ear, I stared ahead. Elliot was in Oakland?

“When I found out who he was, I considered shooting him in the foot or somewhere else non-life threatening, but that would be unlawful of me.” Nic’s voice rang with humor and that was what pulled me out of my stupor.

I sniggered. “It would.”

“We had a little exchange. It was tense.”

I pictured Elliot Westwood, Commander Curmudgeon, and Nicholas Wilder, Mr. I–Give-Zero-Fucks, facing off. The alpha male, testosterone-filled, arrogance fest…Yikes. That must have been an interesting conversation.

“In the end, I felt sorry for him. I pointed him in the right direction. He's on his way to Tessa’s.”

“Nic,”I groaned.

“I’m sorry, Rubes. He seemed so desperate to see you, the poor bastard.”

“Of course, you men stick together,” I spat.

“It’s not like that. Maybe you two need to hear each other out. After that, it’s either you end it or you don’t.”

My heavy sigh fluttered around the kitchen. Nic was right, of course, but being an adult right now was just too taxing. I’d hoped to have at least a few more days before facing Elliot.

“You’re lucky I love you,” I grumbled.

“Hey, if you want me to swing by, arrest Westwood, and give him a night in the slammer, I will. Just talk first.”

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t sure whether Nic was joking or not, but the only crime Elliot committed was stealing my heart and breaking it so… “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine.”

* * *

I was thankful that I’d gotten a heads-up about Elliot’s arrival, so I had time to get myself in some semblance of order… physically and mentally. When the doorbell rang, I pulled in a deep breath and went to open the door.

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