Page 13 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

“We have, and they’re in California. They’re getting the soonest flight they can but suggested that we call you.”

Of course they had.

I eyed the last two vases and knew that I could throw the arrangements together in twenty minutes, and if I did that, I could get a rideshare and be at the hospital in an hour.

“Sir?” the man asked me.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

***

Just over an hour later, I entered the hospital with a small vase of flowers and inquired after Marissa.

“They just put her in a room,” the woman behind the front desk said. “That way.”

“Thank you.” I walked in the direction indicated and, after a few wrong turns, found my way to where Marissa lay in a bed with her leg in a splint. She had her eyes closed and looked pale.

“Are you her husband?” a short, Latina woman doctor asked as I stood outside the room.

“A friend,” I said.

The doctor frowned.

“And her emergency contact,” I added.

“Come on in. She’s on heavy pain killers, so she might say some interesting things.”

I followed the woman, set the flowers down on a counter, and went to stand by Marissa, who was lying back with her mouth open.

“What happened?” I asked the doctor.

She shrugged. “Evidently, she fell. You’ll have to ask her the details.”

“Who brought her in?”

“Someone found her on the sidewalk and called 911.”

“Peter?” Marissa muttered in a slurred voice.

My attention went to her, and I found her blinking as if she’d just woken from a deep sleep.

“Hey.” She grinned.

“What happened?” I moved to her side.

She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “I fell off a wall.” She giggled.

“A wall?”

Marissa nodded. “A big one.” She looked at the doctor. “Tell him.”

The doctor shrugged. “It must have been, because her humerus is broken in two places. The specialist is waiting for the swelling to go down before he operates.”

I’d broken my arm as a kid, and it had been in a cast for six long, torturous weeks. I still had bizarre dreams about the itching. I couldn’t imagine how awful it would be for a leg.

“It’s too bad.” Marissa tugged me toward her, even as I tried to free my hand. “I guess this means you’re on your own for the company retreat.”

My mouth went dry.

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