Page 68 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

I settled at one of the tables and glared at the flowers. Whoever had done this arrangement hadn’t even tried. All of the pink was in one place, and the baby’s breath was clumped in the back. I pulled the round glass vase toward me and tugged out the bundle of greenery.

While I wouldn’t have chosen these to go together, I could make it work.

Unless I didn’t have to. I glanced around, noted the other arrangements, and decided they could all use an upgrade.

When I had them all before me, I began disassembling them and putting new color schemes together. Light green here. Purple there. No pink with that orange, and who had tried to bleed blue into the white carnations?

The edge of pressure from this past week drained away, and I lost myself in arranging.

As I did so, my mind relaxed, and I was able to process again.

Why did Marissa stress me out so much? I’d just spent days with Jessica, and while I was mentally tired, I wasn’t totally exhausted.

Twenty minutes with Marissa and I was ready to run from the building and not look back.

When I was in the same room as Jessica, I didn’t feel the crushing weight of life.

Was this what love felt like? Or was this something different? I wasn’t sure I could feel love, not with the way my brain worked, but something was happening that had never happened before.

The lavender flowers weren’t matching with the yellow roses, so I moved them.

Maybe I should call Aunt Mei and ask her about it. She knew me better than anyone else and had never judged me for what she called my “quirks.”

When I thought about her, I compared her to Marissa and then Jessica. While Aunt Mei didn’t drain me like Marissa did, she also didn’t energize me like Jessica. She fell somewhere in between. I could be myself around her and not feel guilty. I rarely sought her out, but I did value her opinions and advice.

Whereas Jessica was someone I wanted to be with more and more.

Maybe that was the result of having a crush on her for so long and now being able to be close to her. It could wear off. Or I might feel this way around her forever.

Forever.

What would my life be like with Jessica in it outside of work?

After working together for a year, I knew a lot about Jessica, but each time we interacted, I learned something new about her. In some way, she completed me.

I winced at the cliché comparison, but it felt right.

If I didn’t know she was drowning in issues for the retreat, I would have pulled out my phone and called her right then, but that wasn’t the plan, and I was going to stick to the plan.

Technically, I was chilling out, just as she’d ordered me to.

I blinked and wondered when my hands had stopped moving. Three new flower arrangements sat before me, more beautiful and filled out than they had been before. I knew I’ddone a good job and had the belated thought that I should have taken before-and-after pictures for Mrs. Santos. She would have laughed.

“You really do know a thing or two about flowers, don’t you?”

Jessica’s voice made me jump up out of my chair. I turned and found her leaning against the wall with her arms folded and a huge grin on her lips.

I frowned. “When did you come in?”

“A few minutes ago.” She pushed off the wall and walked toward me. My heart sank when she stopped and left several feet between us. Had I done something wrong? But then she offered me her hand.

Was she worried about giving me space? While I appreciated the sentiment, I needed her near, so I took her hand and tugged her to me.

Like the purple and orange flowers, we worked. She fit perfectly into my embrace, and her arms snaked around my waist to hold me tight.

Jessica was my lifeline. What had I done without her?

“Are you going to make it?” She looked up at me.

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