Dear Grumpy Boss: A Brother’s Best Friend Office Romance (The Harder They Fall)
Dear Grumpy Boss: Chapter 21

BY THE TIME OUR car pulled up in front of our building, my lips felt puffy and bitten. Staid and serious, Weston Aldrich could be an animal when he was in the mood, and he’d gone feral on me.

God, I was going to miss it.

At least we still had today.

Weston climbed out of the car first, holding his leather messenger bag in front of the bulge in his pants, so he didn’t scar innocent passersby for life. Snickering quietly, I slid out behind him. He took my hand, helping me to stand and onto the sidewalk.

While we waited for the driver to grab our bags from the trunk, heat simmered between us. His gaze had gone molten as he stared at my swollen lips.

Fortunately, we only had to make it upstairs before we went at each other.

“Elise. Weston.”

At the sound of our names, we turned to replace Elliot exiting our building, a small smile playing on his lips. It took everything in my power not to jump away from Weston when we were already a couple feet apart.

“Elliot? What are you doing here?” When he reached me, I leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. He gave me a side hug before stepping back and shaking Weston’s hand.

“Are you really surprised I would want to see you after you were away for so long?” he asked.

I chuckled, despite my plummeting stomach. So much for one more time. “Three nights, El. That’s barely a blip.”

He rocked back on his heels, his hands tucked into his pockets. “So, I want to hang out with my sister. Do you have a better offer?”

I willed myself not to glance at Weston. “Your idea of hanging out had better involve sitting on my couch watching movies because that’s all the activity I have the energy for.”

He laughed, turning his attention to Weston. “It sounds like you’re working your employees to the bone, Aldrich.”

In my periphery, Weston went rigid. “You know me. I like to make the work environment as painful as possible and keep my employees chained down so they can never leave,” he deadpanned.

Weston started for my bag, but Elliot beat him to it. “I’ve got Elise’s things. You can head up to your place and do whatever it is you do when you’re all alone.”

Weston and I finally exchanged a glance. He smirked, but his disappointment was palpable. “Count my money. That’s what I do when I’m alone.”

“Make sure not to get any paper cuts,” I quipped halfheartedly.

As much as I’d protested, I’d wanted that final time with him, and now it would never happen.

Weston stood behind me in the elevator, Elliot beside me. His hand brushed up and down the center of my back, featherlight, but I felt it to my toes.

The door slid open on my floor, his touch falling away. I twisted around to face him.

“Bye, Weston. Have a good rest of your weekend.”

He nodded to me, his expression unreadable. “Thank you, Elise. You did an outstanding job on this trip. I won’t forget it.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. “I won’t either,” I mouthed before spinning away to follow my brother down the hall.

I let Elliot into my apartment, sighing past the knot in my chest. Saoirse was in Wyoming visiting her dad, brother, and sister-in-law for the weekend, so we had the place to ourselves.

He carried my bag to my bedroom, setting it down on the end of the bed. Then he leaned against the doorjamb while I set about unpacking. He knew me well enough not to question my need to organize immediately. We were the same that way.

“Tell me the truth,” he started.

I raised my head from my stack of clothes. “About…?”

“How is Weston as a boss?”

“Oh, he’s fine. We don’t have a lot of interaction on a daily basis.”

“You did on this trip, though.”

“Somewhat.” Oh god, I hated lying to my brother. “While we were at the factories, he did his thing, and I did mine.”

His brow lowered. “He took care of you, though? Made sure you were in your room at night?”

If he only knew how well Weston had taken care of me…

“He did. I promise, he looked out for me, even though it wasn’t necessary.” I put my hands on my hips and crinkled my nose. “Who do you think looked out for me when I was in Chicago?”

He scoffed. “It sure as hell wasn’t Patrick.”

I pressed a hand to my aching chest. “Ouch. Punch landed.”

Elliot’s stance softened infinitesimally. “It wasn’t intended as a punch. Not to you, anyway. My point was, it drove me crazy knowing you were halfway across the country with a man I couldn’t trust to keep you cared for.”

Dropping my eyes to my bag, I resumed unpacking. “Well, you were right about him, and now I’m back here, under your watch.”

“My caring for you shouldn’t make you angry. If Dad were here, he would be saying the same things I am.”

“He might, but he would do it gently.”

“Unfortunately for you, I didn’t take after him in the gentleness department. He gave all of that to you.”

I looked at my brother, sucking in a breath. He really was so good to me. It was unfair for me to be grumpy because he’d interrupted what Weston and I shouldn’t have been doing anyway.

“You don’t need to be gentle to be good, which you are, El. Thanks for giving a shit.”

“Always, El.” He crossed to me and picked up my emptied bag, placing it on the highest shelf in my closet. His version of a warm hug. “Now, what terrible movie are you going to make me watch with you?”

Monday morning, there was a Post-it waiting for me on my desk. I laughed out loud when I read it.

Fratricide is the act of killing one’s own brother.

So Weston was still grumpy about being interrupted by Elliot. To be fair, I still regretted it as well, but murder hadn’t crossed my mind.

With a grin, I typed up an email to my boss.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Grumpy Boss,

I’m concerned about a sticky note on my desk this morning.

You might have an employee contemplating acts of violence against their own sibling. Why would one do such a thing? I can’t think of a possible reason.

On another note, my own brother spent the night at my apartment after I got him drunk on White Russians and made him watch zombie flicks. A good time was had by…well, not all. Mostly me.

I hope the rest of your weekend was equally fun.

Wishfully,

Elise

After that, I was buried under piles of work, only stopping to have lunch with Rebecca and Simon and to shoo Miles away from my desk. Periodically, I checked my emails, but since I’d received no response, I imagined Weston was five times as busy as I was.

By the end of the day, I submitted my first story to Salma and had prepped my notes to write another one. I was shutting down my computer when an email came in.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Elise,

That does sound concerning. Might you have mistaken the intended subject of violence? Perhaps you should be looking closer to home.

One can’t help wondering, what was your first reaction when you read the Post-it?

As for your other subject, my weekend started off hot but ended up cold and lonely. I’m happy yours was more enjoyable than mine. You deserve it after how hard I worked you on our trip.

Have you recovered?

Concernedly,

Weston

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Grumpy Boss,

I probably shouldn’t tell you I laughed out loud when I first read the note. Perhaps I should be concerned about myself.

I’m sorry your weekend didn’t end as well as it started. At least you’ll have the memories of the good times. I know I like to take my favorite memories to bed with me so I can think about them when I’m all alone…

Since it’s now past 5:00 pm and I’m still exhausted from how hard you worked me on our trip, I’ll be signing off for the night.

Have a lovely evening, Weston.

Warmly,

Elise

I shut down my computer and gathered my things. If I didn’t leave now, I might have been tempted to sneak up to eight and knock on Weston’s door. Since that wasn’t professional or smart, I cut my losses and rode down to the lobby instead.

My phone vibrated with a text from Saoirse asking about my dinner plans. I was replying to her as I headed outside, so I wasn’t paying as close attention to my surroundings as I should have.

I never saw him coming.

“Elise.” My name, croaked. My arm, grabbed.

Startled, I tried to pull back at the same time my head whipped up and my eyes landed on my ex-boyfriend.

Patrick’s fingers tightened on my arm, but his words were weak and pleading. “Don’t run away. I flew out here to see you.”

“I—” I was so shocked at his presence I had no clue how to respond. “What are you doing here?”

He’d gotten thinner, had let his beard grow thick. Had it been two months since I last saw him? Standing in front of me now, it could have been years with how drastically both his appearance and my feelings for him had changed.

“Isn’t it obvious? I came to see you. I’m here for you, Elise, so you can tell me why the hell you left me.”

We were making a scene in front of my office building. My coworkers were streaming out, peering warily at me and the loud, disheveled man. It was bad enough he was here. Adding witnesses only furthered my humiliation.

“Lower your voice, please. This is my job, Patrick.”

He threw out his free hand. “Do you know how crazy I’ve been going? Your friends and brother almost had me convinced you were never real. Can you believe that? I guess it is believable since you’re the one who removed every trace of yourself from my life. But you just said my name. You said it, so I know it was real.”

“Please, just—”

“Elise,” he cried hoarsely. He wasn’t angry. He was utterly despondent. I hated that seeing him this way affected me, but it did. “I love you, sweetheart. I need you to talk to me. Please, just fucking talk to me.”

He moved fast, yanking me into him and wrapping his arm around the back of my neck.

“Patrick, stop.”

Our eyes met. His were smudged with black underneath, but they were so familiar, it hurt to look at him this close up. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Then his mouth crashed into mine.