Page 52 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

The girls and I had come back to my place and watched a movie. It had been late when they’d finally left, and it had taken me a while to get to sleep.

Just before I hopped into the shower, my phone buzzed.

Like the obedient servant to technology that I was, I checked it.

Peter:Change of plans. I’d like to make some of the basket decisions in person. Can you join me?

There was an address and a time. I had just over an hour to get there. I could make it if I hurried, but I had a concern.

Jessica:What about coffee?

He answered immediately.

Peter:I’ll have it.

I bit my lip. Danger Zone was asking me to help him. For the retreat. I needed to hold on to that thought if I was going to get through the next six days.

And yes, I was counting.

Jessica:I might be a few minutes late, but I’ll be there.

I took a fast shower and threw my hair up into a tight bun. It wasn’t my best look, but it was the easiest.

Normally I took the train around town, but if I was going to make it to this boutique any time soon, I would have to drive. The place had parking, so as soon as I was ready, I jogged down the stairs in my building and to my little blue sedan.

I slid in and checked the mirrors. The small glass bauble Ashley had made me as a thank you for coming to her rescue when her ex had suddenly shown up hung from the rearview mirror. It always reminded me that I’d done something good for someone I loved.

With that in part of my mind, and the promise of coffee in the other, I drove out of the garage.

The place was on the outskirts of the city, and going against traffic, it didn’t take me long to get there. I pulled in three minutes late and hurried around to the front door of the shop.

Rays of sunshine shot between buildings, and pink and white blossoms adorned the trees along the sidewalk.

I spotted Danger Zone and stopped in my tracks. He stood under one of the trees, in a splash of sunlight, looking like a million dollars.

He always wore a suit, and he always looked delicious in them. This one was black, tailored, and accentuated every good part of his body.

Then there were the sunglasses. Medium-sized and painfully stylish, he looked like a K-Drama star, especially with a cup of coffee in his hand and the lazy way he seemed to be observing his surroundings.

“Oh boy,” I said to myself.

If I had to go on looks alone, this guy was an eleven.

Toss in his emerging personality, coupled with the way he’d started to protect me, and he might get to a twelve.

As if he’d heard my thoughts, he turned and looked my way.

A shiver ran up my spine, and even through the glasses, I could tell he was focused on me.

I’d literally seen the guy walk hundreds of times—maybe thousands—but I’d never seen him stalk toward anyone before. The movement was one-part great cat and two-parts manly confidence.

I wondered if someone could suddenly get asthma, because I was having a hard time breathing.

Did they make an inhaler for this?

Chapter 16

-Peter-

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