These Boots Were Made For Stomping - Plot & Excerpts
The voice came from above, and Lydia Carmichael tilted her head up, her gaze following a path of comic book pages she’d taped to the interior wall of her teensy cubicle until she found herself looking into a pair of smugly superior dusky brown eyes. “If you’d quit wasting all your time reading that trash, you’d get your work done fast enough to get out of here at a normal hour,” Darla Dingbat sniped. Okay, so her name wasn’t actually Dingbat, but if there were justice in the world, it would be. Lydia opened her mouth to tell Darla to: a) mind her own business, and b) get a freaking clue. It just so happened that Lydia had finished every scrap of work in her cubicle plus reviewed her neighbor Jason’s expense report over three hours ago. She was still in the office for the sole, limited and highly irritating reason that her boss, the infinitely obnoxious Martin Stout, insisted he wanted to talk to her about a cost-benefit analysis she’d turned in before lunch.
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