Page 3 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

Getting together with the Curvy Girl Crew was becoming harder and harder for me, which I hated. I loved those ladies. We’d been through a lot and were all better people from knowing each other.

I shouldn’t be this upset about the situation. It wasn’t even that time of the month, but here I was, bolting for the train station, wiping tears from my eyes.

I didn’t have to be back at work for another hour. Danger Zone was meeting with an important client off-site, and as long as I got everything completed for the day, he didn’t mind if I took a long lunch.

He also knew I’d stay late to finish anything I needed to.

Today I’d used him as an excuse.

Nothim, but work.

To get away from my friends.

Why?

I took a deep breath—inhaling that part-city, part-sewer smell—and closed my eyes for a second as I waited for a light to change so I could cross the street.

The picture of my friends all happy with their significant others would not leave my mind.

I’d always been the jealous type about guys. When I was in school if my friends had been dating, I’d found a boy to date. If they became serious, I got serious. I didn’t know anyone else who was as much of a follower in this regard as I was.

It was the reason I’d made a vow with myself that I wouldn’t go on a date for a year after Brooke and William got married in two months. If I found a guy I liked, I would constantly be wondering if I was with him because I didn’t want to be different. Because I didn’t want to be alone.

I shook my head and started walking as the light turned. This could not become a problem. The Curvy Girl Crew gals were my friends, and even if I was the last single woman standing, I didn’t need to become desperate.

There were a few projects I’d thought of that I should start. They, along with work, would keep me busy for at least a year.

But first, I had a month and a half to figure out what to do with the Curvy Girl Crew.

We had a meeting scheduled for the next week, and I needed a plan.

If not, we might fall apart, and I wasn’t sure I could handle that.

Chapter 2

-Peter-

I wanted three things over the next two weeks. First, speak to the least amount of people possible; second, avoid a trust fall; and third, get through the company retreat so I could take some time off.

I’d perfected my morning routine so I could get away with talking to only four people between leaving my apartment and sitting down at my desk.

After that, things got more interesting.

For instance, this morning I’d gone straight to a breakfast meeting with a professional football player who wanted to get into big investing, and for lunch, I’d met with Courtney Harris, who was looking to diversify her personal income.

Those interactions were easy for me. I could usually predict what we would talk about and the questions they would have, and I’d have prepared answers for everything.

The random person on the train who wanted to chat about their cat—there were far too many people in this world who put images of their pets on their tote bags—was an entirely different story. A few grunts from me coupled with icy glares usually got them to leave me alone and look for someone who would provide the required oohs and aahs.

I didn’t do oohs and aahs.

The walk from the nearest train station to work was onlya few minutes and provided me with some much-needed alone time.

Not that anyone was truly alone on a New York street, but no one tried to talk to me, and I would simply walk away from anyone who did.

It was a New Yorker thing, so I didn’t have to feel bad about ignoring people.

I was almost to my building when my phone buzzed. I retrieved it from my pocket, saw the caller ID, and immediately answered. “Auntie.”

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