Page 40 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

Peter:I’ll try to come around dinner.

Marissa:Bring me food?

Peter:I’ll text you.

Before I got sucked into an even longer conversation, I put my phone away. The next stop was mine.

When my phone buzzed again, I bristled. I almost didn’t pull it out, but a crazy part of me hoped it would be Jessica.

My heart stuttered when I saw that it was, indeed, Jessica.

She’d sent a screenshot of our mini golf scores and had put it on a background of disaster movie monsters. There were four words written in dripping, red letters.

Better luck next time.

I’d ended up ten strokes behind her, and I hadn’t ever achieved a hole-in-one. I wanted a rematch but also needed time by myself.

To process.

I sent a thumbs up back to Jessica, because the thought of being clever was too much for me at the moment.

The spring air smelled wonderful coming out of the subway, and even though it was dark, the light from the city illuminated the trees along the sidewalk. White blossoms were peeking out from the budding leaves, and I almost stopped to take in themoment, but I was afraid one of the people out walking would talk to me.

With such a long day behind me, I knew that my human interaction was at its limit. I needed downtime. So I kept moving, and when my phone buzzed yet again, I pulled it out hoping for something from Jessica.

Instead, it was the proof of life picture from my aunt.

She and Harold were indeed wearing their leather riding gear posing in some sort of cavern.

Auntie:I’ve shown you mine, now show me yours!

“You’d think a grown woman in her sixties would be more mature,” I said to myself as I turned on my camera and took a selfie with the trees behind me.

I sent it, along with a message.

Peter:Obligatory pic.

Auntie:Brat.

Peter:Good night.

I started walking again, when my aunt sent another message.

Auntie:Is that a smile on your face?

At least a dozen grinning emojis followed.

I hadn’t consciously smiled in the picture, but I had to admit, it was there. Small, but evident.

Auntie:Is there something you’re not telling me?

Like Marissa, she would badger me until I either told her what she wanted to hear or got fed up and simply stopped answering her. I decided to tell her what she wanted to hear.

Peter:I met a woman, and I’m in love.

Her reply came in record time.

Auntie:What? Are you serious?

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