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asked.
    I gave her a look, trying to telepathically communicate to her that just because her vagina was cobwebbed and decayed like a long-forgotten ancient artifact, she didn’t need to foil my plans. Honestly. She could really be pretty if she tried, and then she wouldn’t have to go to such extremes to find a guy. She never wore makeup for one thing, and she never did anything with her hair. She was totally skinny but hid her figure in these loose cotton pantsuits or flower-child long skirts and flowing blouses. She did have nice features—a gorgeous long neck and cheekbones to die for, to start with. And her eyes were a stunning shade of blue. If she would only wear some makeup to play them up! And right now I could count not one but two scraggily eyebrow hairs. I wanted to leap across the desk and pluck them out myself.
    â€œI’m adding some visuals to the Expert reports.”
    â€œMaybe you just need some more memory. Do you know how much memory your machine has?” Tom said.
    I shook my head.
    â€œI’ll just take a look.” He leaned over me and typed in some things on my keyboard. I sat, immobilized, my heart racing with him so close. “Wow, that’s a lot lower than I would have thought. I wonder if your memory may have been dislodged. Has anyone moved the case recently? I’ll just check out the motherboard. Excuse me.” Tom crawled under my desk.
    I rolled my chair out a little, but only a little, to give him room, but not too much. Like all the guys in the IT department, Tom always wore jeans. But nobody made jeans look as good as Tom. The denim was drawn tight over his muscular thighs, and I had the ideal vantage point from which to enjoy them fully.
    He’d started working at McKenna Marketing five months ago. Of course I’d thought he was hot the moment I’d laid eyes on him, but I hadn’t truly lusted after him until I had a chance to talk to him at a company picnic in August. That’s when I found out that, before he’d gotten this boring office job, he’d worked as a firefighter, a white-water rafting guide, a blackjack dealer at a casino in Blackhawk, and a carpenter. And he was only twenty-eight! When he got sick of making crappy wages, he started going to night classes to get his associate’s degree in computer science.
    Plus, he and his girlfriend had broken up two months ago. Just enough time for him to be so over her.
    We were perfect for each other.
    â€œAvery,” I asked, “are you going to Rios tomorrow night after work?”
    â€œI haven’t decided yet.”
    â€œYou have to come so you can buy me a drink to celebrate my breakup from Dave.”
    Avery shook her head and smiled. She kept right on working as she said, “We’ll see.”
    â€œHow about you, Tom, are you going to come out with us tomorrow night? You can bring your girlfriend,” I said.
    Tom came out from under the desk. “I don’t have a girlfriend, thank god. I broke up with her a while ago. She was a sweet girl, but man, what a psycho.”
    â€œOh really, that’s a shame. You two made such a cute couple.”
    He shrugged.
    â€œSo what about tomorrow night?”
    â€œI have some plans with some buddies of mine.”
    â€œOh,” I said. “Where are you going? You guys should stop by Rios if you can, it’ll be fun.”
    â€œWe’ll see. I’m going to see about getting you some more memory. I’ll be back.”
    â€œThanks so much,” I said.
    â€œNo problem.”
    I sighed. It was far more interesting to watch Tom’s blue-jean-clad ass than it was to type up a report on features people wanted in an oven. Alas.

RETTE
    The Interview
    B ound in my nylons, navy blue suit, and high-heeled shoes, I tried to coax my car into transporting me to my job interview.
    My sorry-looking ’87 Subaru always had to pull this shit when I had some place important to be. The engine