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lip over a contrary block of code with inadequate documentation that she had inherited from another programmer.
    “Let’s get dinner tonight and discuss it.”
    There was no mistaking Oscar’s intent. He didn’t want to discuss a potential promotion. He just wanted to get into Jenn’s pants. But what else was new?
    “Okay,” she said before she could think to stop herself. “How’s eight?”
    ~~~
    She stared at herself for a long time in the mirror before her date that night. Jenn looked good. Taking kickboxing classes had brought out muscle tone she didn’t realize she could possess. She pulled her slacks over her muscular thighs and ruffled her hands through her hair, and Jenn hated how good she looked.
    No, that wasn’t true. She liked looking good… but she hated the audience it was for.
    “Jenn MacLennan, what are you doing?” she murmured to her reflection.
    Oscar insisted on picking her up in his Rolls-Royce, and Jenn imagined she was supposed to be impressed by it. He talked about himself the entire drive to the restaurant, which turned out to be the kind of place that sold food so expensive there were no prices on the menu.
    Jenn stared at a spot somewhere over Oscar’s left shoulder most of the dinner, fork idle in her fingers. His mouth was moving, and sound was coming out, but she didn’t really care to tune into what he said.
    He finally managed to catch her attention by falling silent, and she realized she was supposed to respond to him.
    “Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
    Irritation flashed across Oscar’s face. “I asked if you had given thought to taking over Peter’s position. I could introduce you to the team as their newest acolyte at next month’s retreat. You have a lot of potential to quickly reach upper management and beyond, if you make friends with the… right people.”
    His smile made it clear who he thought was the right person to befriend.
    Instead of vomiting what little she had eaten on his lap, Jenn asked, “What retreat?”
    “The annual team-building retreat in Hawaii.”
    Right. That retreat. Despite being a senior manager, Peter had never been invited to go along. He preferred a cubicle with his team than a corner office, so he was never “cool” enough to go on extravagant management trips. Jenn and Peter had privately laughed at the wasteful budget expenditures more than once.
    Not that Hawaii sounded bad. Jenn briefly entertained the thought—warm surf, golden sand, getting to show off her new body in a bikini.
    But she couldn’t imagine enjoying that setting without Ryan.
    “Look, Oscar, I’m flattered that you’re interested in giving me a promotion, but shouldn’t there be an official interview? There are other programmers with more supervisory experience that might be better for the position.”
    “But none as pretty as you are.” And then he winked.
    Jenn set down her fork. Her already meager appetite had vanished.
    What was she doing out with Oscar? Really?

    She didn’t want the position, and she definitely wasn’t interested in her boss romantically—not that he seemed to have a romantic molecule in him. “If I see an internal opening listed, I might apply for it,” she finally said.
    Oscar didn’t seem to notice her unease. He picked up the monologue about himself where he had left off, leaving her free to concentrate on pushing her squab around the square plate.
    Jenn skipped dessert and managed not to gag when he made a big show of having dinner put on his account. It took all her will power not to run back to his car. She wanted Bowser, a good book, and a pint of brain bleach to forget she ever had the crappy judgment to go out with Oscar.
    He opened the door for her, and she slipped into the passenger seat. Jenn gave an exaggerated yawn.
    “Boy am I tired,” she said pointedly.
    “Tired? But the night is so young,” he said in a way that was probably supposed to come across as suave.
    Jenn thought he had