Page 19 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

“And we’ll talk about it.” I waved my hand.

Brooke looked over her shoulder and frowned. “You hate it.”

“No,” I said quickly.

“You do.” She turned to scrutinize me.

“I don’t hate it.” I was about to crumble under her gaze, soI kept going. “I’m just not sure it’s the right answer. I honestly haven’t processed it yet.”

That was a lie, and Brooke probably knew it, but she only said one more thing. “It would let us be together more, and that’s something I need.” She reached out and took my hand. “I think we all do.”

Chapter 6

-Peter-

“A few accidents on the obstacle course and they have to shut the place down?” I asked.

Tyrell, my boss, shifted in his chair. He wore his usual three-piece suit—this one brown—with old-fashioned, wingtip shoes. Close cut, black hair topped his head, and his olive skin looked darker than it had on Friday. He must have spent some time outside. “A few broken bones and a concussion in the past two weeks is a safety concern.” His brown eyes met mine. “And let’s not forget the bedbugs.”

I winced. Tyrell knew how I felt about bugs.

We’d met early at his office. Not a great way to start out a Monday morning.

My friend and the vice president over the personal investments division shrugged a shoulder. “Better that we find out now rather than later.”

He was, of course, correct.

Tyrell and I had known each other since college. He was one of the only people I agreed to hang out with on a quarterly basis. He liked to go to old theaters and watch old movies, and considering the activity required minimum human interaction, I accompanied him. Plus, I got theater popcorn.

He’d tried to get me to join his cycling team, but I’d refused. I often used a trainer at the gym, but participating in races woulddrain me more emotionally than physically. Tyrell understood this about me and hadn’t pressed.

“I know you’ve only been sitting on this news for less than a day, but do you have any thoughts moving forward?” Tyrell asked.

I drew my phone from my pocket and brought up my notes. “I’ve contacted six facilities within five hours of here that run corporate retreats, but they’re completely booked. They don’t even have half a day they can give us.” It had taken me all afternoon to get a hold of people, only to have them tell me they couldn’t help. “There are a few places in the city, but the activity options seem to be sillier—escape rooms, human puzzles. That sort of thing. None of them could accommodate our entire group if the employees’ families join us.”

Tyrell narrowed his eyes. “The facility we had booked is willing to give us half of our money back, or we can reschedule with them once they’re up and running again.”

I frowned. “Do you trust them to reopen?”

“After talking to the candle people downstairs, I’m going to predict a no on that.”

Apparently, the gossip Jessica had overheard had been more truth than exaggeration. I wondered if Marissa had actually called them. If they’d lied to her, we shouldn’t trust them. “Will you attempt to get more money back?”

“Of course, but it will take time, which means we only have half the budget left and a week to plan something.”

There was an easy answer to this problem. I’d overheard several employees in my area muttering about how they’d rather not be dragged into the middle of nowhere to participate in stupid activities, even if the company was paying. I cleared my throat and said, “Or we could have a nice lunch here and give everyone two days off next week.”

Tyrell’s brow furrowed. He studied me for a second before hereplied, “Did you come up with that on your own?”

I shrugged. “I’ve heard some complaints about the retreat. Most of them half-hearted,” I added quickly. “I’m not an expert on morale, but it might be good to consider it. Surprise everyone with the time off, maybe give them a bonus, and revisit the retreat plan next year.”

Not only would this go over well with a majority of our employees, but it would be the easiest thing for me.

If Marissa wasn’t still drugged, she would, no doubt, already have grand plans for a new retreat. I didn’t share her passion for forced bonding with coworkers and had come up with this other idea in the hopes that Tyrell would take it to Amelia and get it approved.

“Even if we only get half of the money back from the facility, the company will come out ahead,” I pointed out.

I’d expected an immediate no to my proposal. Tyrell also loved the social bonding thing, but now I found him considering it with narrowed eyes.

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