Forbidden Grumpy Boss (Damaged Daddies #2)

5. Leah

Chapter five

Leah

I’ve made many questionable decisions in my life, but taking a job working for the man who discarded me like last season’s shoes after we spent one unforgettable night together? That has to be at the top of the list.

I close the door behind me, leaning against it as I take in the sight of my tiny apartment, trying to calm the storm inside me. How is this even real? Of all the people in this city—hell, in this world—it had to be Silas.

God hates me. If not, he just likes laughing at me.

I drop my bag on the floor, feeling the day's weight press down on me as I catch my breath. The faint sounds of keyboard clicks tell me that Penny is still on the couch, probably buried in some coding project she’s been working on for days. The smell of coffee from this morning lingers in the air, stale but familiar.

It almost helps ground me, but the memory of seeing him, Silas , again jolts me right back into the chaos swirling in my head.

“Is that you?” Penny calls from the living room. “My employed best friend, ladies and gentlemen.”

Penny looks up as I walk into the living room. She’s in her usual spot, legs tucked under her, fingers dancing across the keyboard of her laptop, like always. Her messy bun sits lopsided on her head, and her oversized T-shirt reads I Code, Therefore I Am . Classic Penny.

“You’re back early,” she says, glancing over at me before her gaze sharpens. “Wait. You look . . . I don’t know.” Her eyes widen. “Wait, you didn’t tell me you got the job, Leah.”

I flop onto the couch beside her, kicking off my boots and rubbing my temples. “I think I just took a job working for the guy I slept with five years ago.”

Penny's eyes widen, and she slams the laptop shut, the clack of plastic on plastic cutting through the room. “Wait, what?! ”

“Yup.” I nod, more to myself than to her, as if hearing it out loud might make it feel more real. “Silas. You remember him, right?”

Her face twists in confusion. Then, understanding dawns on her. “ Rome Silas?”

“Yeah,” I groan. “That one.”

“No way. No freaking way.” Penny shakes her head like she’s trying to shake off the disbelief. “You mean the guy who told you to fuck off after that incredible one-night stand? That Silas?”

I roll my eyes. “Thank you for putting it so delicately, Penny. But yeah, that Silas.”

Penny leans forward, her face lit up like she’s just been handed the juiciest gossip of the year. “Details, babe. I need every detail. What does he look like now? What did he say? Are you going to work for him? What the hell is a Roman man doing as a CEO in New York?”

“He’s American, Penny.” I shut my eyes, Silas's face appearing in my head.

“Really?” She frowns. “Why have I been imagining an Italian man all along? Okay, what about my other questions?”

I hesitate momentarily, staring at the cracked ceiling as if it holds some answers. “He looks . . . the same. Maybe a little grayer, but just as annoyingly hot. Still tall, still ridiculously fit. And yeah, I took the job. I had to. The H.R. guy offered too much money for me to turn down.”

Penny blinks. “Leah, are you sure about this? That shit really messed with you for a while, you know? Even when you eventually told me about it, you were still pretty hurt.”

“I know,” I say, exhaling. “But that’s why I have to prove to myself that I can handle this. I need the money. And besides, I’m not the same person I was back then. I’m not some twenty-year-old kid anymore. I can do this.”

She eyes me suspiciously for a moment before her face brightens. “Hold on. Let me Google him.”

“Don’t you dare—”

“Too late!” Before I know it, her laptop is open, and Penny’s fingers are already flying across the keyboard, pulling up tabs faster than I can blink. “Let’s see. Okay, so . . . wow. He’s ridiculously hot, what the fuck?”

“Yeah, he’s still a massive douchebag, though.” I hold my growling stomach. I need some food, and I need it fast.

“He’s a CEO now, but we know that already. His net worth . . . 104 billion. Whew! Big time. And,” her eyes narrow as she scrolls, “he has a thirteen-year-old son. Caleb.”

My stomach twists at the mention of a son. I knew nothing about his life. After that night, I’d purposefully avoided looking him up. “A son? I didn’t see a ring on his finger.”

Penny looks up at me, her eyes twinkling. “You were checking him out to see if he was wearing a ring?”

“Uh, not like I was, uh—” I stutter, and Penny burst into laughter. “Shut up, Penny!”

“Okay, okay.” She raises her hands in mock surrender and looks back at the laptop. “But there’s no mention of the mom. He’s a total mystery man.”

I swallow, trying to digest the information. A kid. I shouldn’t care. It’s been five years. But the thought of him moving on, having a family? It stings more than I want to admit.

Penny glances at me, concern softening her features. “So, what are you going to do? I mean, are you sure you’re over him?”

I force a laugh. “I’m definitely over him. I mean, come on. It was just sex. And besides, he made it pretty clear that night meant nothing to him.”

Penny arches a brow. “Right. Well, good luck with that.” She looks over at the kitchen. “There’s some leftover pizza on the counter. I can hear your stomach growling.”

I force myself off the couch. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“So when do you start?”

“Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, I will start working with Silas Waverly. I shudder as I eat the corner of a pizza slice. My pulse is hastening, but I can’t tell if it’s from excitement or dread.

***

The next morning, I’m standing in front of the sleek glass doors of Silas’s office building, and I swear I can feel my heart trying to escape through my chest. I take a deep breath, reminding myself of the promises I made last night in bed.

I’m a professional. I can handle this.

I step inside, and the familiar scent of polished floors and expensive cologne fills my lungs. Everything here screams money. The kind of money my father has. The kind I’ve always detested. The lobby is all sharp lines and modern art, a far cry from the quaint little apartment Penny and I share.

When I reach his floor, the receptionist greets me and points me towards his office suite. My heart races again. Of course, my office would be right next to his. I approach his door and knock softly before stepping in, expecting to find him seated behind his desk.

What I don’t expect is to walk in on him halfway undressing.

Silas stands in the middle of the room, shirtless, slipping into a crisp white button-up shirt. The sight hits me like a freight train. Those broad shoulders, the hard planes of his hairy chest, the way his muscles flex with every movement. His scent—clean, masculine, and all too familiar—wraps around me like a lasso, pulling me back to that night in Rome.

I remember him licking his way to my navel and taking a nipple in my mouth as he carved his fingers through my hair, making a fist in it. I remember wrapping my fingers around his hardness as I moan. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks and worse—between my legs.

Great. This is exactly what I don’t need right now.

“Leah.” His voice snaps me out of my inappropriate daydream. He’s buttoning his shirt now, completely oblivious to the mess I’ve become. “I didn’t expect you this early.”

“Yeah, uh, wanted to check in,” I manage, hoping my face isn’t as red as it feels. I cross my arms to keep from fidgeting and force myself to focus on something, anything , other than the memory of his hands on my skin.

“I’ve got a meeting with the Caldwells in a few minutes,” he says, smoothing down the collar of his shirt like this is all totally normal.

“That’s the family you want to buy the theatre chain and streaming platform from, yeah?” I rattle off what I read on Entertainment Weekly last night.

“I see you’ve been reading up on me.” He’s fixing his black tie.

“It’s part of the job.” I frown, taking offense at his tone. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

If he took offense at my words, he doesn’t show it. “I’ll have my schedule sent over to you later today, so you can start getting familiar with it.”

His tone is all business. Cool, detached, like we’ve never been anything more than colleagues. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. After what I told him yesterday about keeping the past in the past, I should be relieved he’s being professional. Instead, all I feel is this gnawing disappointment.

“Right,” I say, my voice tight. “Got it.”

Silas doesn’t look at me again as he grabs his jacket and heads for the door. “We’ll catch up later.”

I watch him leave, my eyes lingering on how his broad back fills out his suit jacket. God, why does he have to be so . . . him ? I breathe and try to steady my racing heart and throbbing depth.

I really, really need to get laid. This isn’t about Silas. It’s about me being sex-deprived. I don’t care about him.

I swear, I don’t.

***

An hour later, I’m buried in emails. When, suddenly, there’s a knock on my door. Before I can respond, the door swings open, and a young boy with wild brown hair, smudged glasses, and an oversized hoodie walks in. His eyes flick to mine, and there’s a flicker of defiance in them before he plops down in the chair across from my desk.

“I guess you’re the new assistant,” he says, his voice flat.

“And who are you?” I smile at the young man.

“I’m Caleb.” He removes his glasses, and I see he has his father’s eyes. “I’m gonna need you to call my dad.”

“Yeah?” I close my laptop. “Why?”

“I got in a fight in school, and I was asked to come with him.” He’s trying to look unbothered, but I can tell he’s scared.

I grab my phone and dial Silas’s number, unhappy about having to speak to him so soon after he’s left.