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

Chapter 25

-Jessica-

Peter wasn’t usually so difficult to find.

Logic said that if he was trying to get Marissa a ride home that they would either be in the lobby or outside.

While the lobby was full of people, I didn’t see anyone in a wheelchair. Not even around the corner that led to the bathrooms.

I huffed and went back outside.

The sun was high in the sky, and the scraggly trees that surrounded the parking lot were valiantly trying to finish blooming their white blossoms.

One look at the asphalt and I understood why Amelia had balked at my suggestion of taking our party into the parking lot.

We’d had an old-fashioned movie theater in my hometown when I was young. No stadium seating or recliners, just regular chairs and a slightly sloped floor that gave short people hope that they might be able to see at least sixty percent of the screen.

I’d had the misfortune of attending a movie right after someone had spilled their soda. It had run all the way down to the front, coating the middle of the theater floor with sticky sugar.

No one had lost a shoe, but my friend had to wrestle her flip-flop out of the muck.

This parking lot looked to be ten times worse than that movie theater.

Which was perplexing. We were just coming into spring. We’d had snow. How had this grime resisted the winter and subsequent rain?

It was a mystery that I might have proposed to the Curvy Girl Crew, if I wasn’t trying to find an eyewitness to a crime.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” one of the firefighters asked.

I bristled at the ma’am but shook my head. “Has a man pushing a woman in a wheelchair come out here in the last five minutes?”

The man—a guy Brooke would call a tall glass of water on a hot day—shook his head. “No, sorry.”

The woman standing next to him shook her head as well.

I blew the air out of my lungs. “Thanks.”

I’d hoped to find Peter and Marissa on re-entry to the lobby, but they were still missing.

Where else would they go?

Was there a handicap access door I didn’t know about? That was possible, so I approached the desk.

The man I’d been slightly terse to a few minutes before blanched when he saw me.

I held up a hand, indicating that I came in peace. “Do you have an ADA exit somewhere?”

The man raised a trembling hand and pointed at the regular door next to the revolving door.

“That’s it?” I asked.

He nodded.

Where could they be? Maybe they had to wait, so he’d taken her somewhere? But where? Then I remembered the quiet room and walked toward the hall that led to the bathrooms. There was a door that would get me to the quiet room nearby.

I was most of the way there when I heard voices coming from around a corner.

“But I help you. All the time.” That was Marissa, and she sounded upset. “I complete you.”

Uh-oh. Marissa was confronting Peter about her feelings. I glanced behind me to make sure no one else was coming.

No one was.

Should I interrupt? Would Peter appreciate an assist, or would he prefer to get this over with?

I missed a few words, and suddenly, Marissa shouted. “You’re mine!”

Peter said, “No.”

I could imagine the category five expression on his face—blank and trying hard to keep from losing it.

“I’ve done everything for you!” Marissa said shrilly.

That’s it, Peter was under enough pressure today. He didn’t need Marissa adding to his stress. I took a step to interrupt, but Marissa’s next words stopped me in my tracks.

“You said you didn’t like curvy girls, so I lost weight. You said you loved investments and business, so I went into investments and business. You said you loved sushi, so I said I loved sushi!” Marissa was crying and yelling at the same time. “I hate sushi! It’s disgusting!”

My hands clenched into fists. Could that be true? Had Marissa loved Peter since they’d been teens? And did he really have a thing against curvy girls, or had that just been something she’d made up in her hormone-ridden adolescence to explain why he didn’t like her the same way she liked him?

“You have to love me,” Marissa said through desperate sobs. “You have to!”

Peter’s words didn’t surprise me, but I didn’t expect the cold tone he adopted. “I don’t.”

“You have to!” Marissa wailed. “I haven’t had ice cream in fifteen years because of you! I stopped eating because of you! I gave up my dream of being a park ranger for you!”

“I never asked you to do any of that,” Peter said quietly.

“You didn’t have to!” Marissa shouted. “I did it because I loved you!”

Even though I’d expected it, my heartrate spiked, and I put my hand over my mouth. I felt bad for Marissa, but I also didn’t like the position she was putting Peter in.

“I don’t love you, Marissa. I’ve never loved you.” Peter’s voice was flat. Determined. As if all he wanted was to get away.

I couldn’t blame him; however, I wasn’t about to go around that corner now. Instead, I pulled out my phone and started typing Peter a message. He could use it as an excuse to get away if he wanted to. My fingers flew, and I was about to hit send, but Marissa’s next words stopped me cold.

“Do you know that Jessica is good friends with the people at her favorite coffee shop? She’s hung out with them. Gone to the movies. All sorts of things.”

How did Marissa know that about me? A shiver ran up my spine. Was she spying on me? Or asking other people in the office about me?

“So?” Peter asked.

“So now you get her coffee every day, and she hasn’t seen them in a week.” Marissa paused. “What else has she given up for you?”

An all too familiar feeling of foreboding filled me, and I took a step away from the confrontation I was listening to.

Marissa went on.

“Apparently, all you do is make people change for you.”

No, no, no.

Peter wasn’t like my ex. I hadn’t changed for him. Yes, he’d been picking up my coffee, but it was a sweet gesture. Something he did for me. He wasn’t trying to put me in a box.

And he’d never made me feel like I had to be less than him. He encouraged me. Always.

Didn’t he?

My phone buzzed in my hands. I automatically looked down at it and found a message from Ashley.

Ashley: Meeting tomorrow night, or are you going to cancel again for a certain grumpy boss?

The muscles in my chest tightened, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

Had I put off my friends for Peter?

No, it had been for work.

Hadn’t it?

A grunt came from around the corner, and I knew Peter was headed my way. I couldn’t talk to him. Not right now. Neither of us were in a good place.

The nearest door led to the back hall and to the quiet room. Before anyone saw me, I ran through it.

I bolted down the hallway and didn’t stop until I was once again at the far end of the ballroom. Only then did I remember that they still needed Marissa. I managed to grab the nearest person I knew and asked them to have Captain Grant go to Marissa. He could deal with her, and I could do everything possible to keep from screaming.

I should have gone back to Amelia, but my mind was racing and my emotions were reeling. When I spotted Peter entering the ballroom from the lobby, I breathed a sigh of relief.

This was technically his thing, and he could finish it without me.

I said this in my mind, but my feet refused to move. I couldn’t go. I had responsibilities.

My phone buzzed again.

Ashley: I’m joking.

I had to stay through this party, whatever happened, but I had the option of taking the rest of the week off, an opportunity I wasn’t going pass up. I needed the most important people in my life. Would they come?

Jessica: I’ve got a code red situation.

Ashley, bless her soul, answered right away.

Ashley: Tonight or tomorrow?

Tomorrow felt like it was three days away, but I was going to be wasted after this. I needed to be able to form coherent sentences, and besides, maybe I could get all the crying out tonight.

Jessica: Tomorrow.

Ashley: Is this a private event?

She meant would this just be the two of us.

Jessica: All CGC are welcome.

Ashley: I’ll take care of it.

My emotions threatened to overflow at her quick and thorough display of love, and I had to take a few deep breaths in order to keep them under control.

I looked into the ballroom. “You can do this.”

Probably.

I averted my eyes from Peter, squared my shoulders, and walked back into our company retreat.