Most of our department was already in the bar at Harper’s getting plastered. Believe me, they weren’t celebrating Vicki’s promotion. They weren’t holding a wake, either, although their hopes were dead. This was survival time. The men eyed each other warily, like dogs about to turn on one another. Every man there was drinking so he could do what he had to do—something scummy to keep his job. Next Monday was the start of evaluation week, and it would be payback time for Vicki. The now all-powerful executive would wreak revenge on everyone she thought had snubbed her or laughed at her. The boys remembered the times they’d done Vicki imitations, flirted with Minfreda, or taken the cameo blonde to lunch. Vicki was vindictive. The office deadwood could hear the echo of the ax. As the day crawled on, the boys realized they would have to do some serious puckering to save their jobs. They were a spineless lot.
