Feet First
THIS WAS TURNING into a three-doughnut morning.
Jenny Prillaman scarfed down her second hot Krispy Kreme doughnut, marveling at how something that tasted so light could have so many calories. Krispy Kreme doughnuts weren't on the approved list of foods for the South Beach diet, and she would have to exchange half her meals for the day on Weight Watchers.
Sighing, she surreptitiously licked one of her fingers. Tough. Her boss wasn't here and he really needed to be.
She barely brushed some glazed sugar from her chin before executive VP Marc Waterson burst through the door wearing an expression of controlled fury on his chiseled face. "Brooke Tarantino is coming in today. Where's Sal?"
Jenny cleared her throat and rubbed her sticky hands together beneath her desk. Oh, wow. She'd thought he would send his assistant down to do the inquisition.
Marc Waterson had always struck her as a force of nature carefully concealed in a well-tailored Brooks Brothers suit. She suspected in another time period he would have worn his hair long and carried a sword. He was a lethally clever overachiever type, and Jenny generally tried to avoid such ... read full excerpt from: Feet First ebook
