Office pranks, secret affairs, happy hours, and even blackmail! I’m having fun working on Office Flirts and wanted to share a quick snippet from the beginning of the first story. I’m hoping to have this out by the end of November at the latest. (While you wait for that, it’s a good time to pick up Holiday Flirts or read it again! It begins on Halloween and ends on Valentine’s Day, so tis the season.)
Funny Little Thing (short story #1 from Office Flirts!)
I was working on my 360th balloon when Chuck ran into the office. “Jenny, hurry—he’s coming!”
I nodded as I blew. My cheeks hurt so much from filling all those balloons, I probably couldn’t have answered, anyway. I tied the last one and shoved it in the office, then shut the door. The blinds were closed, so Joseph would have no clue I’d just pranked his new office until he stepped inside. If he could even squeeze in, that is. I chuckled to myself. A few weeks earlier, he’d covered my entire cubicle in tinfoil, so he had this coming.
The moment news got out that one of the art directors was leaving, Joseph had claimed her soon-to-be-empty office. It was out of sight from our boss Lillian’s suite which was a plus, but that also meant you never saw her coming. Joseph was willing to take that chance. He’d be moving his stuff in later that afternoon so that the new art director starting the next day couldn’t take it.
I scooted over to the reception desk to pretend I was talking to Joy. She wasn’t as big a prankster as we were, but she enjoyed our antics, sometimes playing a supporting role as needed—so long as there was no threat to her clothing or carefully curled hair.
“Don’t you look cute today?” Her upper lip curled, as she surveyed my yoga pants and t-shirt.
“I’ve been here since five this morning. I dressed for comfort, not style.”
“Isn’t that what you do every day?” Joy always dressed like she was on her way to a fashion show where they relied on audience members for backup in the event a model fainted from hunger and toppled off the runway. From Joy’s desk, she had a view of the modeling agency across the hall, and I think she was convinced they were going to spot her one day and plop her in a makeup ad. Otherwise, I had no idea why she wore so much of it. I used mascara and sometimes lipgloss if I could find it in my purse. That was a big if.
But she was correct. I did dress for comfort. When you’re shaped like an apple, there’s no use spending a fortune on stuff that won’t fit right anyway. Besides, I didn’t need fancy clothes—I had “such a pretty smile.” I’d heard that one dozens of times when people couldn’t think of anything else nice to say. Maybe that’s why I was joking around all the time—to show off my smile. No one ever said what a cute belly you have.
I did get compliments on my hair, though. I was probably the only girl in the world with curly hair who didn’t wish it were straight. I loved my long, dark curls. I could thank the women on my mother’s side of the family for that. But they’d been turning out thick-figured women for generations, so they were responsible for that feature, too.
Footsteps sounded in the hall and I bit my lip. Joy was still chatting about hairspray—or maybe it was conditioner, I don’t know—when the door swung open. Joseph walked in, with a handsome sandy-haired guy. Must be a client. My heart quickened. Clients usually didn’t have a sense of humor, I’d discovered, after once replacing Chuck’s hand sanitizer with lubricating jelly before an important meeting.