Page 2 of My Undead Heart

“We can’t do that. Not withProjectX looming over us.” As much as I want to be there for the taping, I can’t sacrifice this game.

“Fine. We’ll be honest.” Jared rolls his eyes. “And probably have to work fourteen-hour days to make up for it.”

“Worth it, Jared. Totally worth it.” I plop back into my seat and spin my chair in a circle before stopping the motion with my feet. Hand back on my mouse, I glance over to my friend.

He blows an exaggerated breath from his pouted lips. “Fine. I better get this over with while he still has coffee in his system.” He makes a show of stomping past the opening of my cubical on the way to our boss, taking extra slow steps in hopes I’ll call him back and offer to take his place. I follow his every movement and barely refrain from rolling my eyes at his theatrics. As he passes the opening to my cubical he steps back, drops his shoulders, and frowns. “I don’t wanna ...”

“Put on the big girl panties, Jared.”

He eyes our boss’s office door. “But I go commando.”

I’m tired of his whining, and I need to get back to work if we’re really gonna skip out on Friday. “Jared, just pull it off like a Band-Aid!”

He straightens his spine but he can’t resist one final complaint. “Easy for you to say. This is gonna hurt me more than it does you.” He struts away.

“Don’t forget to use lube!” I shout after him, drawing a few chuckles from our co-workers.

He holds his middle finger high in the air without a look back.

“Jared being a little bitch again?” Nick from accounting pops his head over my wall of computer screens.Nick the dick. My daily reminder that all men are jerks, and co-workers aren’t for dating. Or casual hookups. Or drunken escapades after community building days.

I form a thin line with my lips and concentrate my gaze fully on my work before I answer. “Don’t you have a spreadsheet to format? Accounts to balance?”

“Just trying to be friendly.” He huffs, and I don’t need to glance up to know he’s still there. Hanging around. Like a leach. Or a fly that won’t buzz off even though you sealed shut the jelly jar. Months ago.

I let my gaze snap up to glare a beat. “How ’bout you don’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, they don’t pay me to be cordial.” With that, I’m overcome with inspiration for a new scum of the earth villain for level sixteen, and I let my fingers fly over the keyboard. Giant head, tiny dick, and puss leaking from his eyeballs. I shall call him Nick. I can barely contain my smile as a chuckle tries to escape my mouth.

Oh, the ways I entertain myself.

Nick finally bugs off. Back to his desk, his feet dragging with dejection, and I hear him mutter, “You’d be fired if they did.” Was I rude? Sure. But only because this dumb ass can’t take a hint. Or rather, he lives in a world in which it’s acceptable to hook up with a co-worker, tell everyone about it, and then bring his girlfriend of two years that no one even knew about into the office the next week. Yeah, he’s a dick of the worst variety. And I’m the idiot who fell for his quirky smile, dry wit, and fucking killer retro pinball machine collection.

Never again.

I’m good with my cold heart for one.