Page 10 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

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 orfive 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 everyoneand 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.

Chapter 4

-Peter-

“Are you really going to put those next to each other?” Mrs. Santos eyed the two sets of flowers as if they were cats and dogs.

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