The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss (Curvy Girl Crew #7)

Chapter 3

-Jessica-

Why did Marissa continue to test me? She’d never caught me off guard, and I’d never floundered under what she thought was fierce scrutiny.

If only she knew how tough I was on myself and the high standards I held myself to. Marissa would never challenge me again.

“I have concerns.” Marissa’s tall heels clicked on the tiles as she took a few steps to look into Danger Zone’s office. She wore her signature super-short blue skirt with a matching suit jacket and pink blouse.

As always, Danger Zone made her wait until exactly the appointed time. He did this to everyone.

“What are your concerns?” I asked in a perfectly neutral voice. I’d spent years working on the tone.

Marissa blinked, as if she’d forgotten she’d said anything.

Probably because all she was really thinking about was getting into Danger Zone’s office. The woman had the hots for my boss, and while he didn’t seem to notice, I did.

“We can talk about them with Peter,” Marissa said.

“Sounds good.” I smiled.

She smiled back.

Neither of our expressions was warm.

Marissa diverted her full attention to me and cocked her head to the side. “Have you lost weight?”

“I have not.” I had to force my voice to remain even.

“Are you sure? You look different.”

Probably because I’d gained a few pounds in the past six months. Stress eating was real, and since no matter what I did I could never stay below a size eighteen, I’d sort of given up for a bit. The onset of spring would likely lure me out on walks.

I wasn’t sure why, but Marissa commented on my weight each and every time we interacted.

Compared to me, Marissa was a bean pole. She couldn’t possibly wear more than a size four, and once in a while, she looked so gaunt I worried about her.

Not enough to ask her if she was okay, mind you, but I did think about it. That should count for something, right?

A notification sprung up from the corner of my monitor, indicating that it was time for our meeting.

Danger Zone got the same notification, and he stood.

I had a problem. I knew I had a problem, and his name was Peter Kim, aka Danger Zone. Each time he stood from his desk, buttoned his suit jacket, and strode to the door, I watched.

I couldn’t help it. The man was just the right height, had the body of a swimmer who lifted enough weights to create tantalizing muscles in his arms and chest, and he was Asian. Not to mention, he was ruthlessly efficient and grumpy.

Basically, this guy was my kryptonite.

His grumpiness added to his hotness level.

If I told myself the truth, I’d been harboring a crush on him since I’d met him, but I’d often wondered if it was just me wanting to have a guy in my life. A man I could fixate on, but who was forbidden. Lookie-no-touchy, which meant he was safe.

I was safe.

“Marissa, Jessica, are you ready?” Danger Zone asked from his doorway.

Marissa was off like a shot. I wondered if her feet even touched the floor as she practically ran to Danger Zone. “Good morning, Peter, how are you?” Her tone was bright. Her eyes, if I could see them, would be shining, and she would likely lick her lips as she pulled away from their traditional hug.

She was the only person Danger Zone hugged. He didn’t strike me as the affectionate type, but he’d never asked Marissa to stop. They’d known each other since their early teens, so maybe that’s why she got special treatment.

I followed, bringing my tablet so I could throw the slides I’d prepared up on the screen in Danger Zone’s office. He was a visual learner, and it kept him slightly less grumpy if he had something to look at.

“This retreat is going to be so great,” Marissa was saying. “Everyone is excited for it, and Amelia has told me she’s expecting this to be the first of many.”

Danger Zone motioned to the two chairs across from his desk. Marissa took the closest one, forcing me to go around her.

“People will be talking about this for years,” Marissa said. She opened her mouth to continue, but Danger Zone interrupted.

“Did you get the agenda put together?”

I hid a smirk. My boss didn’t care for small talk.

Marissa pivoted like a pro. “Of course.” She pulled a tablet from her bag and shoved it at me. “Get this hooked up.”

Danger Zone frowned. “You should have emailed it to Jessica.”

Was it wrong that I absolutely loved it when he stuck up for me? Sure, he’d tossed some pretty crazy projects at me that had equally insane deadlines, but he hated it when anyone else interrupted my workflow or made my life more difficult.

This wasn’t Marissa’s first, second, or even fifth offense. She was saying something about how busy she was and hadn’t had a chance to send it. Danger Zone listened politely. I ignored her. It took me a matter of seconds to bring up the file on her tablet. She really should change her password to something besides “MarissaAddams1234.”

I reached for the remote that turned on the wall screen, but it wasn’t sitting in its usual spot.

Danger Zone opened a drawer, drew out the remote, and offered it to me. He did this without breaking eye contact with Marissa.

I took the device, careful not to brush fingers with Danger Zone—because who knows what that would set off—and got the itinerary ready.

Danger Zone’s gaze finally moved from Marissa to the screen, and his frown went from a category one—which was his resting grump face—to a category two, which included a slight furrow of his brows. In an uncharacteristic moment, he interrupted Marissa. “We agreed there would be no trust fall.”

A quick glance at the rest of Marissa’s file told me this wasn’t the only thing up there he wasn’t going to like.

Marissa laughed and pushed her long auburn curls behind one ear. “Don’t worry, not everyone has to participate.”

The category two frown morphed into a three. His brown eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed together. “We agreed on no trust fall,” he said again, this time with a dash of disapproval.

Marissa leaned forward and stretched across the desk. Danger Zone had his hands on the arms of his chair, so she couldn’t reach him, but it looked like she was offering him a lifeline during an actual fall. “Peter, so many people want to do it.”

I barely kept myself from snorting. Everyone I’d talked to said they’d fake being sick if there was a trust fall.

“It’s problematic,” Danger Zone said. “If anyone gets hurt, we’re responsible.”

“The venue is responsible,” Marissa replied quickly.

“We’re responsible,” Danger Zone repeated. “Not only that, but it can also lead to less confidence. If someone gets dropped, it may foster animosity among our employees.”

Like most of Danger Zone’s responses, this one felt thoroughly thought-out as well as practiced. Marissa would try to argue with him, but he’d have enough points in his favor that she would eventually give in. Until our next meeting.

Lucky for me, this retreat started in ten days, and we only had two more meetings about it. Then, at the retreat, I planned to get sucked into making sure everything was going smoothly behind the scenes and avoid Danger Zone and Marissa as much as possible.

Sure enough, Danger Zone had a counterargument for every one of Marissa’s desperate attempts to get her way. Until she brought up Amelia, the CEO.

“Amelia asked me specifically about the trust fall, Peter. I think she’ll be disappointed if we skip it.”

That was like pulling out the mom or dad card during an argument between siblings.

Danger Zone’s eyes narrowed even more, but instead of allowing a category four grumpy expression to set in, he smoothed his face.

Uh-oh. That was the category five and the top-tier of disappointed dad looks that Danger Zone ever gave.

“I spoke with Amelia about this myself,” he said. “She didn’t request to do a trust fall.”

Personally, I didn’t blame Amelia. She and I were about the same dress size, and the thought of a bunch of people I may or may not like being assigned to catch me as I fell backward off a table was not on my to-do list.

My friend Nanette had almost been forced to do a fall like this for work, but she’d bolted.

That had been the beginning of the end of her single life, as her now husband, David, had been in the group and had covered for her so no one tattled on her about not doing it.

Maybe a trust fall wouldn’t be so bad, if Danger Zone was in my group.

Nope.

I slammed a mountain of rock down on that train of thought.

Marissa was sputtering some excuse, but she’d lost and she knew it.

Danger Zone looked at me. “Take it off the itinerary.”

“You got it.” I didn’t look over at Marissa. I could feel the glare she was giving me and knew that she’d probably find some ridiculous project for me to do next week just because she was mad she’d lost. Before she could jump to something else, I cleared my throat. “I’ve heard some disturbing rumors about the place we’re going.”

Danger Zone raised his eyebrows. “What rumors?” He didn’t like gossip, and I didn’t blame him, but this had to be said.

“I’ve heard four different employees from the candle company downstairs reporting that they had nothing but bad experiences at this place.”

Marissa rolled her eyes.

I kept going. “They had several injuries, more than a dozen questionable rashes, and a whole lot of food poisoning.”

Danger Zone frowned.

Marissa waved her hand. “I heard that too, and none of it is true.”

“Did you contact the retreat venue?” Danger Zone threw Marissa a questioning look.

“I did.” She gave me a sneer of triumph. “None of what happened was their fault.”

“You’re sure?” Danger Zone asked.

“I called them,” Marissa said.

That wasn’t exactly comforting, but if she’d actually called the people I couldn’t argue, so I shrugged. “Great.”

“The rest of the itinerary is acceptable,” Danger Zone said as he scanned the screen on the wall.

Marissa huffed.

“What about the budget?” Danger Zone asked.

“We’re within budget,” Marissa assured him.

Danger Zone looked at me.

I hated to shoot Marissa down twice in a row, but this couldn’t be ignored. “We were under budget, until we changed the desserts for our final dinner.”

“What changed?” Danger Zone returned his attention to Marissa.

She had the decency to dip her head. “I thought it might be nice to have eclairs for dessert instead of ice cream.”

I’d been surprised when Marissa had altered the desserts. She knew that Danger Zone only cared about two things for this party—no trust fall and staying within budget.

“What’s the difference in cost?” Danger Zone asked Marissa.

She ignored the question. “I know you don’t like ice cream, so I thought eclairs might be a nice alternative.”

Danger Zone’s category five grumpy mode did not improve. “What one person likes in a company of dozens doesn’t matter.”

Marissa flinched at that.

I almost jumped in to save her. If I was reading the woman correctly, she’d made the change because of Danger Zone. Maybe to impress him. However, this was not the way to his heart.

Had Marissa not been paying attention for the past two decades? The only personal comfort Danger Zone partook of was his downtime. He kept to a very strict daily schedule, almost always left the office at five o’clock, then worked from home for two hours each night. Saturdays he put in another four or five hours. Sundays he was unavailable except in the direst of emergencies.

In the past year, there hadn’t been anything big enough to call him in on a Sunday. I knew because if he got dragged into the office, or even into a problem, I got dragged in too.

“I thought it would be nice to treat everyone,” Marissa explained.

Danger Zone took a long inhale, which I knew meant he was steeling himself. “Marissa, the company is paying for everything at the retreat. The budget for this is enough to buy several sections of a professional basketball game. If people need to be treated to something more, we have a serious morale problem.”

Marissa shifted in her seat.

I held my breath. When Danger Zone used that tone, there was no more arguing or negotiating. This conversation was over, no matter how much Marissa didn’t want it to be.

“I just thought it would be nice to do something for you,” Marissa said.

Danger Zone, who once in a while showed a speck of compassion, gave Marissa a very small, very tight smile. “I appreciate you thinking of me, but we need to keep the vision of the retreat in mind.”

The vision of the retreat had been simple—show our employees gratitude for being awesome. Our investment company helped people, from those who had only a few hundred dollars to spare all the way up to William’s billionaire sister, find ways to invest. Some wanted to help causes or charities, others simply wanted more money for themselves, for retirement, or for a personal goal.

We’d just gone over the six hundred million mark for what we’d helped people make, and Amelia had wanted to reward everyone. She liked bonding activities and had requested that Marissa and Danger Zone put together a retreat for everyone and their families.

It was supposed to be a new annual tradition, and Danger Zone had insisted that we not go beyond the margins Amelia had set.

Marissa nodded sullenly at Danger Zone’s reminder about the vision of the retreat.

Danger Zone looked at me. “If we go back to ice cream, are we still within budget?”

“Just barely,” I said.

“Good enough. Thank you.”

I blinked. Danger Zone didn’t generally thank me so casually, and never with other people around. He usually said it as he was leaving for the day.

This was new.

And while my mind caught hold of the change, my heart beat faster—I didn’t need new.

I had enough to worry about with the Curvy Girl Crew, and I didn’t need Danger Zone taking up more space in my mind.

But with the retreat the next week, I knew that’s exactly what was going to happen.