Page 77 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

“Why would you want to shut the fire control system down?” the man behind the check-in desk asked.

My chest heaved, and I spoke between breaths. “There was a small…”Breathe. “Fire. It’s totally out now…and we…”Breathe. “Don’t want the sprinklers to come on.”

That was two truths and a lie. The fire had been small, and we didn’t want the sprinklers to come on, but I had no real proof that the fire was completely contained.

Ashley had given me that fire blanket a few years before, and it happened to be in the backpack of emergency items I’d brought, including pain killers, a first aid kit, and extra duct tape.

The last thing from my pack I thought I’d need today was something for fire control!

“If there’s no fire, the sprinklers won’t go off.” The man behind the counter spoke to me as if explaining something to a child.

“Fire doesn’t set it off, smoke does, and there is smoke.”

“I thought you said the fire was out!” Now the man took a step back and stared at me with wide eyes.

“It is.”

“I’m confused.” He shook his head.

I resisted the urge to rub my face. “You called the manager,right?”

“He’s not answering.”

I could only imagine the smoke curling toward the ceiling right now. Most of the commotion from inside the ballroom was trapped by the closed double doors, but I could still hear people yelling and screaming.

Then, the alarm went off.

Flashing lights strobed from each corner of the lobby, and a wail rivaled only by a dozen high-pitched fog horns filled the air.

The man behind the desk ducked, covered, and let out an impressive string of profanity.

I plugged my ears. I’d done all I could. The sprinklers were coming.

For a moment, I was torn. Should I head outside or back into the ballroom? I couldn’t do anything to help, but it might look bad if I ran without making sure people knew how to get out, so I returned to the doors I’d exited through.

When I opened them, I found a lot of people without shirts on lying over their boxes of donated provisions as if the food was their child and they were protecting it from the incoming storm.

A squirting hiss sounded, and I glanced up.

The sprinkler heads turned.

I stepped into the doorframe, hoping to be spared the worst of it, and held my breath.

A torrent of water cascaded from above.

People screamed, the sound almost overpowering the alarm. Someone nearby was crying. I leaned closer to the wall, trying to keep my body from getting wet.

The downpour lasted all of three seconds, then stopped.

As if someone had turned the tap on by accident, then turned it off again.

The alarm ceased.

Silence reigned for a heartbeat until several drips sounded,like the last bit of water coming out of a showerhead or faucet.

My eyes darted around the room.

People began raising their heads and looking back and forth.

---