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

Chapter 22

-Peter-

Several things happened at once.

First, someone yelled “fire.”

My default for an actual fire in a building was to get people out safely. In order to do that, I needed to get the attention of everyone in the room, and then I’d guide them out.

I’d reviewed the fire escape plans for this hotel when Jessica and I had come last week and knew the quickest and safest ways out of the ballroom.

While those plans surfaced in my mind, I noticed the second issue. Marissa was positioned near the fire. Lance was nowhere in sight, and everyone not in a wheelchair was already moving away from the flames.

I’d trusted Lance to take care of Marissa, and now he’d abandoned her?

After the way Marissa had treated Jessica less than an hour before, I wasn’t keen on going over to the debilitated woman. I would most certainly say something unkind, and I might not regret it.

On the other hand, her parents, along with my aunt and uncle, would be furious if they found out I’d let Marissa burn to death.

Even if I felt she might deserve at least a little singe after calling Jessica a fat cow in front of everyone.

Third, and maybe most importantly, Jessica grabbed my arm and turned me toward her. “Go get everyone away from that fire.” She pointed. “I’ll be right back.”

The anger that had still been lurking behind her eyes after Marissa’s comment was totally gone, replaced by a sense of purpose.

Before I could answer her or even nod, she squeezed my arm and ran back toward the stage.

Was she leaving?

No, the closest door lay the other way.

Then where was she going?

“Now, Peter!” Jessica shouted without looking back.

Her insistent tone, more than her words, pushed me into action.

At this point, no more than a few seconds had passed since someone had so helpfully yelled fire, and I’d expected at least a few of our employees to care enough about their lives to be at least moving toward an exit.

Instead, almost everyone who had stepped away from the flames was now going toward them.

Idiots .

I hurled the accusation at them as I too ran toward the problem, but I was in charge and therefore responsible for others.

Most of which were staring with slack jaws and wide eyes.

It took less than five seconds for me to run to the other side of the room. My morning workouts had left me strong and agile, and I barely slowed as I leapt over half-finished ramps, walls of cans, and a pyramid of rice boxes.

As I approached, I heard the group who had gathered arguing instead of scattering.

“Here, use the water in my bottle.”

“We don’t know what kind of a fire it is, throw some baking powder on it.”

“Do you have baking powder handy?”

“We’ve got some sand.”

“It’s not a grease fire, just stomp on it.”

“You stomp on it.”

I’d never actually faced a possibly out of control fire in a building before, so this was new to me, but everything I’d ever studied about the situation had called for immediate evacuation.

When I arrived, a ring of at least a dozen people had formed around the flames, as if they were about to roast marshmallows instead of receiving third-degree burns.

Marissa had joined the circle. In fact, she was the closest person to the fire.

“Get back!” I ordered everyone as I shooed them away with my hands. “You all need to get out of the building.”

Two men looked at the fire, then around, then back at me. “Why?” one of them asked.

I pointed. “Fire.”

“It’s little.”

By now, the flames were as high as my knees and expanding outward. It looked as if someone had purposely made a structure of cardboard boxes and then lit it up.

“It’s not going anywhere,” another man said.

My brain was wailing that we were all going to die, but before I could open my mouth to tell everyone to evacuate, Jessica arrived.

“Out of the way!” Her assertive voice parted the circle like the portrayal of Moses parting the Red Sea. Jessica had a long, dark object in her hands that flapped behind her. She stopped a foot from the fire then unfurled what looked like a blanket on top of it.

The blanket hit the ground and the fire with a light thump, burying the flames.

Everyone in the now broken circle turned their gazes to Jessica and stared at her as if she’d sprouted a superhero cape and glittery red mask.

Jessica, breathing hard, grinned at me.

At that moment, she looked more beautiful than ever, with slightly flushed skin and bright eyes. The fact that she’d just saved the day made her even more appealing.

“What is that?” someone asked.

“A fire blanket,” Jessica explained.

“Do you always have one of those with you?” another person said.

“I have one in my car,” someone else added helpfully.

Jessica’s gaze stayed on me for a few seconds, as if she were making certain that I was alright, before she took a breath and turned to the others. “My old roommate is a glass blower and sets things on fire on a regular basis. She gave it to me for Christmas.”

I knew Ashley had participated in a televised competition for her glass blowing and had done well. A fire blanket wouldn’t be a present I would normally think of, but I mentally added it to my list of practical gifts.

“It’s still burning!” Marissa’s shrill voice cut through the conversation that now revolved around Jessica.

We all looked at where the flames had been moments before. One side of the blanket had a wrinkle in it, like a tunnel a cat would make while burrowing underneath. A thick ribbon of gray smoke curled out from the gap, snaking its way into the air.

Jessica moved and stomped on the opening. As she did so, a huge belch of smoke emerged, slowly moving upward like a helium balloon that was almost out of rising agent.

I looked at Jessica, who glared at the blanket.

Everyone else had their eyes on the smoke, which was headed to the ceiling.

The ceiling where the smoke detectors were.

I followed their gazes, and my eyes landed on the sprinklers hanging from above.

The detector would go off as soon as the gray cloud arrived and then we’d get drenched in a shower of who knew what.

How much smoke did it take to trigger the system? Was it sensitive, like the one in Aunt Mei’s kitchen? Or was it more like mine which required a severe amount of exhaust before it would go off?

There was no way to tell.

Jessica muttered a single word as the smoke drifted ever closer to the ceiling. “Crap.”

At the same moment, a woman screamed, “The sprinklers will ruin the boxes of food!”

The mood turned on a dime. Wide-eyed panic replaced the morbid curiosity, and pandemonium broke out.

“Cover the boxes!” someone cried.

“Do we have any tarps?”

“Why would I have a tarp?”

“Use your shirts!”

“For the children!”

The people around me scattered, leaving Jessica, Marissa, and me near the smothered fire.

Jessica glared up at the nearest sprinkler. “Do you think it will go off?”

“Unknown,” I said.

A frightened scream filled the air, and I jerked my head to the left where I found a woman sprawled out on the floor as if she’d been pushed by someone.

“Sorry,” another woman said a she ran past with a disposable poncho fluttering behind her.

“Peter!” Marissa cried. “We should evacuate!”

Marissa had never been good at lying, and the fake tone and the fact that she put her hands on her cheeks as if in mock panic told me that she didn’t believe what she was saying.

So why say it?

“I’ll go get hotel security,” Jessica said. “Maybe they can stop the sprinklers.” Before I could argue, she ran toward the door to the lobby.

As I panned across the room, I saw chaos.

People were trying to stuff their boxes under their ramps. Others were piling cans on top of boxes to keep them dry.

Three people were lying prone on a pyramid of food items as if hugging it. One of the men had his shirt off and draped over the top.

Several people were crying. Someone was wailing, and a bizarre cackling came from the other side of the room.

Tyrell had somehow made it back to the microphone. The screech of feedback filled the air, stopping several people in their tracks. “Come on, guys, don’t panic.”

“But the food!” someone yelled.

“For the children,” another voice added.

An unfamiliar warmth filled me as I realized our employees weren’t worried about their golf holes, but they were worried about losing the food they were going to donate.

I glanced up and found that the smoke had dissipated some, but the bulk of it was clearly headed toward a detector.

Jessica had disappeared into the lobby.

Marissa was trying to push herself over to me. “Peter! We need to go!”

“You should get out of here.” I frowned at her. “Where’s Lance?”

She glanced around. “I—I don’t know.”

Another lie, but there was no good reason to call her out on it right now.

Someone else needed to take care of her. One of the committee members jumped when I pointed at him. “Dan, take Marissa out of here.”

He stopped mid-step, turned, and looked at me with wide eyes.

“Into the lobby.” I gestured to the door Jessica had gone through.

The man nodded and took a step toward Marissa but stopped and covered his ears when the smoke alarm finally went off.

Neither wail nor screech adequately described the sound, and I completely agreed with the horrible face Dan was making.

The din from the employees had died down but came back in full force as people screamed and threw themselves over boxes.

There were more people without jackets and shirts than not, and that included women.

This was going to be an HR disaster.

Jessica and I would never be asked to be in charge of anything for the company again.

Which, to be honest, didn’t sound like a bad thing.

I somehow heard the gurgle of water over the cacophony, and my eyes were drawn back to the ceiling.

I doubted I could actually sense the liquid coming through the pipes or the switch as the sprinklers began to turn, but I knew it was going to happen and held my breath.