Page 73 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

“Is this going to be a volcano?” Peter asked when we arrived at the next group.

I shot them the evil eye. These guys had been the ones with the fake smoke.

The guy in charge gave me a sheepish look. “Sure is.”

At least they’d taken Catherine’s chewing them out to heart. I didn’t see the smoke machine anywhere.

“We, uh, got some dry ice,” he said to me.

“Good plan,” I said.

What could only be called a ruckus broke out in the far corner of the ballroom.

Peter’s head jerked in that direction, and I followed his gaze.

I’d hoped that an asthmatic reaction would be the worst thing that would happen today, but when I saw open flames, I knew that we’d leveled up.

“Is that real?” the volcano guy asked.

I wanted to deny it, but unless it was one heck of an illusion, we were in trouble.

A split-second later his question was answered when someone screamed, “Fire!”

Chapter 22

-Peter-

Several things happened at once.

First, someone yelled “fire.”

My default for an actual fire in a building was to get people out safely. In order to do that, I needed to get the attention of everyone in the room, and then I’d guide them out.

I’d reviewed the fire escape plans for this hotel when Jessica and I had come last week and knew the quickest and safest ways out of the ballroom.

While those plans surfaced in my mind, I noticed the second issue. Marissa was positioned near the fire. Lance was nowhere in sight, and everyone not in a wheelchair was already moving away from the flames.

I’d trusted Lance to take care of Marissa, and now he’d abandoned her?

After the way Marissa had treated Jessica less than an hour before, I wasn’t keen on going over to the debilitated woman. I would most certainly say something unkind, and I might not regret it.

On the other hand, her parents, along with my aunt and uncle, would be furious if they found out I’d let Marissa burn to death.

Even if I felt she might deserve at least a little singe after calling Jessica a fat cow in front of everyone.

Third, and maybe most importantly, Jessica grabbed my arm and turned me toward her. “Go get everyone away from that fire.” She pointed. “I’ll be right back.”

The anger that had still been lurking behind her eyes after Marissa’s comment was totally gone, replaced by a sense of purpose.

Before I could answer her or even nod, she squeezed my arm and ran back toward the stage.

Was she leaving?

No, the closest door lay the other way.

Then where was she going?

“Now, Peter!” Jessica shouted without looking back.

---