Forbidden Grumpy Boss (Damaged Daddies #2)

8. Silas

Chapter eight

Silas

The road ahead stretches out under the fading orange of the sunset, the narrow lanes winding back toward home. Driving in silence with Caleb, I can’t help but replay my offer. What the hell was I thinking? Proposing a fake engagement to Leah?

But, strangely enough, the more I think about it, the more the idea sits well with me. Maybe I’ve lost it, or maybe I’m a genius—the jury’s still out on that one.

If Leah agrees, I could solve my two biggest problems at once: get Caldwell Media to back off and give Caleb the appearance of the two-parent household Principal Morgan seems to think he needs.

“You're still thinking about that fight, aren’t you?” I glance over at Caleb, sitting with his arms crossed, and his headphones clamped over his ears.

He’s like a mini-fortress of teen angst. I can barely make out his mop of brown curls under the hoodie he’s pulled low over his head.

He shrugs. That’s about as much communication as I will get from him right now. Well, that’s that.

“Wanna talk about it?” I try again.

Caleb doesn’t look at me; he just shifts slightly in his seat. “No.”

Fantastic. This is going to be a long drive.

I clear my throat, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “I get it, school sucks sometimes. Kids can be jerks, but fighting—”

“I didn’t start it.”

Ah, there it is. The defensiveness. “Okay, I believe you. But maybe if you talked to me, I could help.”

He huffs. “You wouldn’t understand.”

I know I shouldn’t take it personally. He’s thirteen. Everyone says this is normal behavior. But it’s hard. I’ve never had a template for fatherhood. It’s not like I grew up watching my dad guide me through life or anything.

I grew up in an orphanage with my brother, Ez. And we learned to fend for ourselves pretty damn early. We never got the whole father-son heart-to-heart playbook.

Fatherhood hit me like a freight train thirteen years ago when June—my one-night-stand from a charity gala—showed up at my doorstep, two months pregnant.

But I asked her to keep the baby. And thank God I did, because since Ez . . . My face darkens, as it always does when I think of my brother. Caleb is the only family I have left. He and no one else.

I glance over at him. He’s a miniature version of me. Same dark hair, same piercing blue eyes, but with his mother’s delicate features. I’m not sure if he even knows how much I love him. Hell, I’m not sure I know how to show him.

“You okay?” I ask, my voice softer this time.

“I’m fine.”

I clear my throat, trying to break through the fortress of hoodies and headphones again. “So, Leah . . .”

Caleb's head turns slightly, just enough to let me know he’s listening. The kid might be mad at me, but he’s still nosy.

“She’s new.”

“She’s an old friend,” I say a little too quickly.

“Old friend?” Caleb finally speaks. His tone is skeptical. “She seems . . . young.”

Ouch. “Hey, I’m not that old.” I shoot him a grin, but he doesn’t even crack a smile. Not that I expected him to. “What do you think? Do you like her?”

He shrugs again, his favorite move these days, but there’s something in the way his shoulders move that tells me he’s thinking. After a long pause, he mutters, “She’s . . . okay.”

Okay, I’ll take it. Better than a flat-out no.

Just as I’m about to dive deeper into that thread of conversation, my phone rings, and Harvey’s name pops up on the screen. I hit the Bluetooth button, glancing at Caleb to make sure he was not about to start rolling his eyes.

“Harvey, you’re on speaker. Caleb’s in the car.”

“Hey, Caleb!” Harvey’s voice booms through the speakers. But my son just mumbles something that’s a little too close to “whatever” for my liking.

Harvey doesn’t seem to mind, though. He never does. “Silas, don’t forget tonight.”

I frown. “Forget what?”

“Forget what?” Harvey asks incredulously. “Are you serious?”

I look over at Caleb like he has the answer. He doesn’t even spare me a glance. He removes his tablet from his backpack and starts tapping the screen repeatedly, probably to play a game.

“Jog my memory, Harvey.”

Harvey sighs, and I can almost see him shaking his head. “The anniversary dinner for Beth. I’ve organized it, remember? The small one. You promised me you'd be there.”

Ah, damn. Of course. Beth. Harvey’s wife. Gone far too soon.

Although he has a different girlfriend every anniversary, he does this every year and keeps the memory alive with this little dinner. I can’t back out.

“Shit.” I glance at the time on my dashboard. It’s a few minutes past seven. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure you’re going to make it?”

“I’ll be there, Harvey.” I crane to see what Caleb’s doing. He’s drawing a cartoon character on his tablet. The unfinished sketch is almost as moody and dour as he is.

Harvey lowers his voice slightly, though it’s still loud enough for Caleb to hear. “My daughter’s gonna be there, too. Time for you to finally meet her, Silas.”

“Right. Looking forward to it.” I rub my jaw, already feeling the headache coming on.

When Harvey hangs up, the silence returns, and I glance at Caleb. “You want to come along tonight?”

He shakes his head without hesitation and presses the volume button of his tablet, disappearing into whatever playlist he’s drowning me out with as he keeps gaming.

Perfect. Another stellar conversation with my son.

We pull up to Arconia—a gigantic skyscraper in the Upper East Side. We enter the building and ride the elevator to the twentieth floor. I bought the entire floor a couple of years ago for privacy. It’s a bit much since it’s not like I can use the entire 20,000 square feet. But honestly, I’m considering buying the entire building. Not like I need to, but one can never have too much privacy.

I watch Caleb shuffle inside our penthouse without another word.

The housekeeper greets him when we step in, and I know she’ll handle things from here, so I head to my bedroom. It’s too quiet. But that should be normal now. I shrug off my jacket, staring into the walk-in closet like the clothes hanging there might give me some answers.

Leah’s face keeps popping into my head—her expression when I made that ridiculous offer. The way her eyes widened, then narrowed as she processed it.

I had blindsided her.

Why did I ask her? There are probably many women who are willing to do it who’s from this city, and I ask the one who has a thing against me? I frown. Maybe because she was the first person in a long time who didn’t treat me like a walking checkbook.

I pull off my shirt, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Yeah, I’m not exactly in my twenties anymore, but I’ve still got it. I tug on a black button-down and smooth down the collar. I might not have figured out fatherhood, but I can at least look the part of the slick businessman who knows what he’s doing.

As I’m knotting my tie, my phone buzzes again. A text from Leah. I don’t know why, but my heart skips a beat.

I’ve thought about your offer. We need to talk.

I stare at the message, my heart doing a weird little flip. What the hell does that mean? Is she considering it? Rejecting it?

One thing’s for sure—this conversation is going to change everything. After dinner with Harvey, I’ll meet up with Leah. I can’t put this off till tomorrow. I need the Caldwell deal sealed as soon as possible.

With a deep breath, I slip on my jacket and head out of my suite.