Insatiable Read Online Free PDF

teeth in a terrible, wolfish grin that made her beauty twist to ugliness.
    “Yes, really,” I said. I started tapping my foot.
    “Hmm...” Trish said. She sat on the corner of my desk. Then she started examining her fingernails. They were long and manicured and the same ruby red as her lips. And I had the sneaking suspicion that they were also fake.
    “If you’re finished, I have to get to work. You know, that stuff you’re supposed to do in exchange for your salary, that stuff?”
    Trish smiled, still examining her nails. She started picking at one, cleaning it with another. I clenched my teeth.
    “Trish,” I said, my jaw tight.
    “What? Oh, yes. Your... work,” she said, snorting when she looked down at my briefcase.
    She seemed to forget that without my “work” all those months ago she would probably have been out of a job.
    Trish stood, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together to grind up whatever she’d found under her nail and then dropping it to the floor. She started walking away, her hips swaying.
    I started breathing again, started letting my jaw relax. Then she stopped and spun around, her hair whipping around her face.
    “Oh, I almost forgot!” she said.
    “Forgot what?” I said. It felt like there was a heavy stone in my stomach. It got heavier when I saw the wolfish grin return to Trish’s face.
    “Oh, you weren’t here when she came down.”
    “Who, Trish? Who came down?” I said, standing.
    She shrugged. “Ms. Spencer’s secretary.”
    “What? Why?” I said, the rock in my stomach turning to an icy block. What did Trish do this time?
    Seeing my obvious discomfort tickled Trish pink. “Oh, she wanted me to tell you to go see Ms. Spencer as soon as you came in. Apparently she really needs to talk to you.”
    My eyes wide, I glanced down at the clock on my computer’s desktop. It had been 20 minutes since I came into work. I was supposed to get that message straight away. Supposed to have been up there in Ms. Spencer’s office fifteen minutes ago at least.
    I stared fire at Trish. She lapped it up. “You better hurry. Don’t you remember how much Ms. Spencer hates tardiness?”
    “Why, Trish?” I asked, feeling like it was pointless to ask but feeling the need to do so anyway.
    She shrugged, looking back at me over her shoulder. “I guess it just slipped my mind.”
    “...Slipped?” I repeated. I stood up too fast, banging my thighs against the top of the desk’s kneehole. I sucked in a sharp breath.
    I wanted to scream at Trish, but I didn’t have the time. I ran for the stairs. Ms. Spencer’s office was two floors up. I started up the stairs, taking them two at a time. A pair of men in suits pressed themselves to the wall as I went by. “Sorry!” I called back to them.
    I’m going to kill her , I kept thinking, my heart forcing my boiling blood through my veins.
    By the time I made it up all the stairs, I could feel my blouse sticking to the small of my back. My pulse pounded past my ears, and the back of my throat felt hot.
    This was less from the actual physical exertion of the climbing and more the physical reaction of my body to Trish’s antics and my own worry about what Ms. Spencer might say.
    I knew I couldn’t actually kill Trish. Not legally, of course. But even using the term “kill” broadly, I couldn't take her down. She was protected. Mostly by the men she’d used to get to where she was now. They’d put down any complaints of mine to some sort of hand-waving female rivalry or something.
    I know because it had happened before. That thing about her taking credit for my work? Yeah, that.
    I yanked the door open and found myself on the C&M executive-level floor. Ms. Spencer’s office was on the other side.
    I walked as quickly as I could, trying to avoid strange looks from the people I passed by. For once, I was grateful for the overpowering air conditioning.
    I reached the wood-paneled door to Ms. Spencer’s office. It was closed. I paused, taking a