Description
Find more from this author on:
Here is a short sample from the book:
One of my coworkers, a woman by the name of Alicia, happened to glance at my face. This woman was the one I least liked on the entire floor. She let out a snort and nodded at me. “What’s that on your face?”
I frowned. “It’s donut powder,” I replied.
“It really suits you.” Her two friends let out a snort.
This witty conversation was thankfully interrupted by an announcement from one of our more enthusiastic coworkers. She was crying the alarm at the top of her lungs as she rushed from the elevator. “He’s coming! He’s coming.” For all the fuss she was making over it you would have thought the British were coming.
I peaked my head over the short walls of my cubicle and watched the chain reaction in, well, action. The women who were confident in their appearance mugged our coworker for details while those who weren’t ready rushed off to the bathroom. The few men on the floor looked on like I did, with horror and fascination. We weren’t sure whether to laugh or hide. The women preened and crowed like a bunch of hens until Finner stepped out of her office.
Finner’s voice was firm, calm, and loud. “Everyone please calm down,” she shouted above the din of the hens. They all stopped squawking and turned to her. “That’s better. Now why don’t we all just get back to our desks and wait patiently for Mr. Dunner to arrive? You’ll have plenty of time later to speak with him, as he’s requested a private interview with everyone on the floor tomorrow.” That reignited their gold fever, as the first thing on their minds was to get the new boss alone. Finner caught the gist of their glee and stamped it out with a few words. “Remember, ladies, that there is no outside relationships allowed between a manager and an employee.” That dampened out all but the most ardent of prospectors; Alicia was one of them. They were willing to risk their careers for the chance to be trophy wives, or better yet mistresses. Then they could keep their jobs and move up the ladder with their boy-toy.
The display was disgusting enough to get me to sit down and stick my tongue out at my computer monitor. The poor thing only stared blankly back at me. The hustle and bustle on the floor simmered down to a low hum so I was able to get back to work. The clickety-clack of the keyboards and murmuring voices were interrupted when the elevator doors opened a few minutes later. There was a collective groan of disappointment. It was only the mail. The delivery guy was given dirty looks and retreated back into the elevator.
Reviews
There are no reviews yet.