Page 80 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

Spontaneous combustion wasn’t a real thing, was it?

Captain Grant grabbed some sort of metal tool from his belt and poked at the pile. It broke apart—letting out one last death throe of smoke and ash—and then he got down on his knees. “You see that?” He pointed, and one of his guys came over.

“A book of matches?”

“Seems like it.” Captain Grant looked up. “Did someone start this on purpose?”

Amelia and I blanched.

“Why would they do that?” Amelia asked.

Now he turned his attention to me. “You said you saw ithappen?”

“No, I saw it after it had started.”

“Who was nearby? We’re going to need to talk to them.”

Dan, the food committee guy, stepped forward. “This was my team. We’d just set it up, and we had no plans to burn it.”

Captain Grant rose to his considerable height and stared down at Dan. “Who all was here when it happened?”

Dan rattled off the names of his team, then added, “Oh, and Lance and Marissa, although Lance had left by then.”

“Where are all of these people?” Captain Grant asked.

“My team is over there.” Dan pointed. “I’m not sure where Marissa is.”

“Peter is getting her a ride home,” I said.

Captain Grant glanced at the door, then back to me. “Can you get to her before she leaves, so we don’t have to chase her down?”

“She didn’t do this, she’s in a wheelchair with a broken leg,” Amelia said.

I agreed, but Captain Grant shook his head. “She may have seen something, and the sooner we talk to her, the better.”

I sighed. Bringing that woman back here was the last thing I wanted to do now that she was on her way out, but I also didn’t want to obstruct justice or whatever. ‘“I’ll go get her.”

Chapter 24

-Peter-

I was loathe to put myself in Marissa’s direct path again, but she’d been near hysterical when the sprinklers had gone off, and I knew if anyone else escorted her out she wouldn’t stop. So I made the sacrifice and wheeled her around the laughing, crying masses toward the lobby.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Marissa pointed in the opposite direction to a door that led to the restrooms.

How that would work with her in a cast up to her hip I didn’t know, but ever since Aunt Mei had made me incredibly uncomfortable about it, I’d learned not to question a woman when she said she needed a toilet. So I diverted our course.

At some point, Marissa had stopped hyperventilating and was now breathing normally.

No one liked to be manipulated, but on a scale from one to ten, I hated it all the way to a twenty. It was difficult enough for me to figure out how to act in social situations, and when people threw curveballs at me, I felt shame, got embarrassed, and ended up angry.

Marissa knew this. Then why did I feel like she’d planned to end up with me alone in this hallway?

“Go around that corner.” She pointed.

I did as she said, wondering if there was a handicap restroom that I hadn’t noticed before.

The more distance we put between us and the ballroom, the quieter it got, and by the time I turned the indicated corner, I could barely hear the firetruck sirens that must be approaching.

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