Page 70 of Grumpy Boss in Love

Hanging up, I grabbed my handbag and laptop and headed to the fifty-seventh floor.

As I made my way to Elliot’s office, I noticed that every other room was dark. It seemed that the only people left in Westwood Collective were me, Elliot, and the cleaning crew. I knew why I was still here. What was Elliot working on at this hour? I lightly tapped on his door.

“Come, Ruby.”

I hesitated before I stepped in because that order sounded more sexual than I was sure he intended. How many times had he told me to do just that when we made love?

“Get yourself together, Ruby,” I sighed.

After his order to join him up here got me hot and bothered, my mind was stuck in the gutter and my body practically begged for his touch.

Taking a steadying breath, I pushed the door open and stepped into Elliot's office. It was dimly lit, so the glow of his computer screen cast him in ethereal light. Papers were strewn across his desk, and he held his cell in one hand. He tapped out something on his phone screen, then his fingers danced over the computer’s keyboard.

He was so dedicated to his work but being such a workaholic wasn’t healthy. I had heard more than one person refer to the boss as a workhorse and a robot. After last night, I understood where his drive came from. Elliot Westwood developed a type-A personality as a kid because he felt like he had to overwork to prove himself… because he felt like a peripheral character in the lives of the people who should have loved him and shown him how important he was.

His parents failed him and turned him into the sullen “workhorse” and “robot.” I was thinking that he needed me in his life to ensure he had a little fun.

“Explain to me exactly what an intern is doing alone in the marketing department at eight p.m.,” he ordered without looking up. I wish he had looked my way so he could see the dramatic orbit of my eyeballs. He was so bossy, yet so hot.

“After you explain to me why you’re still here,” I threw back, pushing the door closed.

Finally, he looked up, and I almost gasped. Elliot had on his black-framed glasses, which I barely saw him in. His espresso-brown hair was disheveled as if he’d run his fingers through it as he did when agitated. One stubborn lock fell over his left brow. He looked like… Professor Sinclair. The hot teacher who almost the entire class drooled over. It seemed like so long ago that I was a college student, battling the hot professor about everything. In reality, it was only months ago. We had come such a long way since our once tumultuous relationship. I was in love with him now. Was I foolish for allowing that to happen?

“I’m usually the last to leave,” he said. Then he frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I shook my head to push away my wandering thoughts. “Er… It’s just… I don’t see you in your glasses much.”

He shrugged as if to say:what’s the big deal?When he reached up to pluck off his eyewear, I said, “No, leave it on. I…” Heat rose in my face. “Like it.”

Elliot lifted one eyebrow and smirked. “Okay…”

Clearing my throat, I ambled over to the sofa to put down my things. “Alright, Prince Westwood, why did you command my presence in your throne room?”

He rolled his eyes, and I had to bite back a grin. He hated it when I called him that. “Answer my question first.”

I sighed heavily. “Caroline happened. She accused me of flirting with you in that meeting this morning.”

Both of his eyebrows elevated. “We didn’t say a word to each other.”

“Apparently, I was trying to get your attention with coy looks—her words.” I walked around his desk to perch on it right beside him. Since we were just about the only ones here, I didn’t have to worry about anyone catching on to our personal relationship, so I felt comfortable enough to relax in his space. “She’s convinced that I targeted you the day I got here. You know, so I can sleep my way to the top. She accused me of working overtime to get into your bed.”

Elliot’s eyes widened.

“If only she knew I’ve already been there a few times, huh?” I wiggled my eyebrows, hoping to make him smile. However, Elliot wasn’t amused. His expression had darkened to Professor Sinclair-level scowling.

My amusement faded, and I continued my story with less humor. “You showed me a little extra attention when I started here, and she developed a vendetta against me.” I sighed. “Caroline’s crush on you is out of control. I’m actually afraid that she’ll snap and wait for me in the parking lot to bust my kneecaps one of these days.” Shaking my head, I chuckle. “The woman is unhinged.”

He stared at me for a moment. “That’s not funny, Ruby.”

My smile tumbled off my face as I stared at him, then I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

“So you keep saying… Do you want me to deal with Caroline?”

“How?”

“By firing her.”

My mouth dropped open, and I sputtered, “Wh-what? You can’t… Why?”