What A Girl Wants by Liz Maverick Read Free Book Online

a raise anyway? Was someone going to get around to telling me that I’m ‘too snarky’ and maybe I should start working on refining my writing style?”
    Janice used her pinkie to fish a bit of lunch out of her frontteeth. She made a repulsive smacking sound and said, “I believe Fred Leary was.”
    Hayley placed her palm down on Janice’s desk and leaned forward. “Oh, I see, well, has anyone here on your side of the building noticed that Fred Leary is dead ? No? Well, by all means, let me be the first to inform you that Fred Leary kicked the bucket last week. He’s no comprende. Kaput. In other words, Fred Leary is physically unable to keep promises at this point, and he certainly hasn’t been by my desk this morning to talk about excessive snarkiness.”
    Janice’s skin turned a pasty white. In a low, threatening voice, she asked, “Was that an outburst?”
    Hayley stared at her, numbly watching Janice’s eyes bulge. Unnerved, she cleared her throat before answering, “It may have been an outburst.” She had a bad feeling about this.
    Janice leaned forward and slammed her palms flat on the desk. Hayley snatched her hand away and took a stumbling step backward.
    â€œToo snarky,” Janice hissed. Without a doubt, it was meant to be the final two words on the subject.
    All at once Hayley deflated. Audra would have cringed if she’d heard the way Hayley simply squeaked, “Uh, never mind,” then turned around and started to walk out of the cube.
    â€œIt’s Hayley Jane Smith, right?”
    How nice. Janice knew her name now.
    Hayley didn’t even look over her shoulder. Eyes on the exit, she just nodded and retreated to her own cube.
    Yep, she was definitely roiling now. That combination feeling of helplessness, anger, and insecurity all rolled into one. She needed a good cry, that was for sure. But definitely not here.
    She untied the sweater from her waist, slinging it over the armrest of her office chair. It immediately slithered to the floor.
    Hayley glared at the pile of blue wool and then flung herself into the rickety chair, purposely sliding off the seat cushion until her ass was hanging in thin air and her elbows were hooked around the armrests.
    With the one major exception surrounding the discovery of Fred’s body, Hayley thought she normally handled stress pretty well. She’d been taking yoga once a week for three months now, and was starting to believe that total Zen was just around the corner.
    Or at least, that was her justification for the ridiculous monthly fee she paid to have some guy who needed a shave and a pair of shorts with better coverage encourage her to place her legs in positions that she wasn’t sure they really needed to go into.
    But rather than invoking those special yoga swami breathing exercises, she kept replaying the Janice encounter over and over in her mind with variations on witty comebacks and snappy answers she wished she’d given.
    So instead of feeling calmed and centered, she just sat there fuming, sprawled half-off her office chair with her arms and legs akimbo, and stared up at the hip industrial lighting system above her desk.
    And after a little while the graphic designer’s mutt, Ponzi, wandered into her cube and stuck his head up her skirt.
    Hayley swallowed a bloodcurdling scream, maintaining enough presence of mind to recognize that this was not something she wanted anyone to witness.
    In sheer terror, she pushed off the floor with her feet. With her arms completely stuck in the armrests due to the gripping tension in her muscles, she rolled the chair backward, pedaling desperately, trying anything to dislodge the dog’s head from beneath her skirt.
    It was obviously confused, its paws tangled in the blue sweater,struggling to find the light of day, and at this point, thoroughly uninterested (thank God) in what might be up there in the skirt.
    After what seemed like