Forbidden Grumpy Boss (Damaged Daddies #2)

6. Silas

Chapter six

Silas

I’ve had better ideas. I’ve had worse ideas, too. But this one, where I agreed to sit across from Henry Caldwell and his wife, might be the worst. I press my phone to my ear, waiting outside the restaurant for a quick breather before heading in. Kane’s voice comes through the line, clear but tight.

“Just be restrained, Silas. Whatever you do, don’t mention anything personal. You may say something that’d mess things up completely.”

Restrained? Right. I shove my free hand into my pocket, glancing up at the towering building in front of me. Why am I even here? Oh, right. Because Caldwell Media is the only company that could boost my holdings, and Henry Caldwell’s old-fashioned ass refuses to sign off on selling it. Kane, his son, might be the company's future, but for now, Henry still holds the reins. And the reins are pulled so tight the man’s knuckles must be white.

“I’ll do my best,” I tell Kane, but I’m already thinking about Leah. It’s stupid, really. I need to focus. But damn it, the way she walked in on me earlier, catching me half-naked, just like that night years ago in Rome, has me rattled.

Her eyes had done that thing again, trailing over me like she was soaking in every inch. And maybe I stood a little taller and took my time buttoning my shirt, just to see if she’d keep looking. Spoiler alert: she did.

“Silas?”

“Yeah, sorry. I got it, Kane. How’s Tamara?”

“She’s great.” His voice gets a little softer. We’re happy. I ’ m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been, man.”

“I’m really happy to hear that.”

“I owe you,” Kane says.

“You’re starting to make it up to me already. Anyway, wish me good luck. I can’t keep them waiting any longer.”

“Of course. Let me know how it goes. Good luck, Silas.”

I hang up, push the phone into my jacket, and take a deep breath. Kane and his then-fiancée, Tamara, had taken a break, and I’d played cupid. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because I wanted someone else to have the joy I never got.

But for now, it’s time to face the Caldwells.

The restaurant is upscale, the kind of place where even the air feels expensive, rich with the scent of truffle oil and dry-aged beef. Dim lights, dark wood, heavy red drapes. The kind of place that matches Henry Caldwell’s old-money vibe perfectly. I spot them at a corner table; Henry, thin and pale, wearing a suit that looks like it hasn’t been updated since the Reagan Administration, and his wife; Elizabeth, her pearls gleaming under the low light.

She’s every bit as frosty as I remember from that brief meeting years ago. Sharp features, hair perfectly coiffed, a blue dress that probably costs more than a car.

“Mr. Waverly,” Henry greets me with a handshake that feels as frail as he looks. The man’s hand feels like it could crumble in my grip, but his eyes are sharp and calculating.

“Good to see you, sir.” I take a seat, keeping my smile in place. The waitress glides over with menus, and I realize the first hurdle of the evening is choosing a wine that satisfies these two. Fun.

Elizabeth doesn’t waste time. She leans forward and asks, “So, Mr. Waverly. Why should we trust our family legacy to a man who seems . . . unattached.”

Unattached. She says it like it’s a terminal illness. But I know what she’s getting at. Family values. A stable home. A nice little wife and some well-behaved kids. None of them are in my repertoire right now.

“I believe in the strength of tradition,” I lie smoothly, hoping it sounds convincing. “And I’ve built my company on those same values—hard work, loyalty, and trust.”

Henry nods, but I can see it in his eyes: he’s unconvinced. His fingers tremble as he lifts a glass of water to his lips, and I wonder why he won’t just pass the company to Kane already. It’s clear he’s not in the best health. Instead, he’s hanging on, selfishly keeping the power in his hands.

“And family?” Elizabeth’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

I clear my throat. “My son, Caleb, is thirteen now. Family is everything to me.”

It’s not a total lie. Family is something to me. But let’s be real. I’ve got a son who barely talks to me, a brother I lost years ago, and a romantic history so screwed up I don’t even know where to start.

We’re barely through the appetizers before I know it’s a lost cause. They aren’t buying what I’m selling, no matter how much I talk about legacy and stability. By dessert, I’m sure of it. The deal isn’t happening yet.

“Thank you for dinner,” Henry says as we leave. “We will consider your offer.”

Right. That’s code for we’re thinking about changing our minds .

I leave the restaurant, loosening my tie and pulling out my phone to text Harvey. “On my way,” I type quickly before entering the car. This night isn’t over yet.

***

Harvey’s office is a stark contrast to the stuffy restaurant. It’s a space that screams Hollywood—the air smells like cigar smoke, the walls lined with movie posters, and the man himself sits behind his massive desk, a half-burned cigar clamped between his teeth.

The walls are lined with posters of award-winning movies produced by his studio and a shelf crammed with so many awards that he’s using one of them as a paperweight.

“Well?” Harvey asks as I step inside, shrugging off my jacket and dropping into a chair. “How’d it go with the Caldwells?”

I rub a hand over my face. “Not great. They’re stuck on this whole family image thing. Family values. They don’t want to sell unless the buyer has a squeaky-clean personal life. Which, as you know, isn’t exactly me.”

An actress, Amy Reinhart, walks into the room without knocking. “Amy!” Harvey stands to kiss her cheek. “You know my friend, Silas,” he says, pointing at me.

“Nice to meet you, Silas.” She stretches a hand to me. “I don’t believe we’ve met, although I think I heard something about you buying a studio.”

“I’m familiar with your work.” I offer her a smile as I shake her small hand. “You were incredible in Woman of War. ”

Amy is a tall, blonde woman who looks like she spends five hours a day doing squats in a gym. Her smile is dazzling, but there’s something ungenuine about it. I wonder if she’s acted for so long that she doesn’t know when she isn’t acting anymore.

“I need to talk to you, Harvey.” She glances at my friend, who’s lighting up a cigar. “When will you be free?”

“I’ll see you on set in one hour, darling.”

Amy nods, offers me a smile, and walks out. “She’s one hot woman, isn’t she?” Harvey watches her walk away.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Because a man has pizza, he can’t try tacos?” Harvey cocks his head. “So, the Caldwells want you married?”

“Basically, yeah.”

Harvey leans back in his chair, puffing out a cloud of smoke. “Well, that’s a load of crap. But I’ve got an idea.”

Here it comes. Harvey’s “ideas” are always something, usually bordering on ridiculous, but they tend to work in the end. He gestures with his cigar like he’s unveiling some brilliant plan.

“Fake engagement.”

I blink at him. “What?”

Harvey grins. “It’s simple. Get engaged to someone. Make it public, sell the story, and the works. They want a family man? Give ’em a family man. Once you’ve closed the deal, you can break it off. Hell, I’ve done it three times for film releases. People eat that shit up.”

I stare at him, wondering if the cigar smoke is getting to his brain. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” Harvey blows another puff of smoke. “Think about it. The Caldwells want family values and stability. You give them that, and they’ll hand you the company on a silver platter.”

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. The idea sounds insane. But at the same time, it’s not the worst plan I’ve ever heard. And let’s be honest. I’m desperate here. Kane crosses my mind.

He did the same thing.

He was fake-engaged to Tamara to solve some business issue, and look where it got him—married to the woman he got fake- engaged to. Not like that’s gonna be the case with me. I’m way too busy to fall in love. But still.

Harvey leans forward, sensing my hesitation. “I can even recommend a few candidates for you. You know, someone polished. Classy. We’ll make it look real for the press. Hell, with the way Amy was looking at you right now, I’m sure she’d do it for nothing at all.”

I’m about to respond when my phone buzzes. Leah’s name flashes on the screen.

“Hold that thought,” I tell Harvey, answering the call. “Leah? What’s up?”

Her voice is tight, like she’s trying to keep it together. “Caleb’s been brought to the office. He got into a fight at school.”

My stomach drops. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, just, well, bothered. The school wants you to come in.”

“Drive him back to the school. I’ll meet you there.”

I hang up, shoving the phone back into my pocket. Harvey raises an eyebrow. “Your new assistant?”

“Yeah.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you just make the fake engagement proposal to her?”

I shoot him a look. “You’ve lost your mind.”

But as I step into the elevator, heading down to meet Caleb, the thought sticks with me. And the more I think about it, the more irritatingly appealing it becomes.