Read Cocktail Hour for Free Online

completely subtle and P.C. about it, even though she only barely caught him staring before he sheepishly looked away, it was still disgusting.
    Back in her cubicle, Chelsea hit send on the final Outlook Calendar meeting invitation that went out to each of the six teams Kevin managed. The meetings would keep employees there, depending on their team's meeting time, until eight-thirty that night. She heard Kevin approaching her cubicle, talking on his cell, and she leaned forward and stared at the computer screen, tensed for the next request, but he kept walking and went into his office and shut the door. She blew out a ragged sigh and fell back in her chair, forgetting her promise to herself to sit up straight and stop slouching. It looked terrible, being hunched over like Quasimodo. Plus, it made her look fat rather than voluptuous.
    She had to figure out if she needed to stay for the meetings, or if she could get away with slipping out and still be able to meet her friends. Lucie was lucky she didn’t work at TMB anymore and have to put up with all the crap that was dished out daily by the management of the company, lucky to be launching a new business of her very own. Chelsea was happy for her friend, but she keenly missed her at moments like this. She could talk to Lucie tonight at Ibiza, assuming she got away, but she needed advice now and there was only one other straight-shooting no-BS woman in the office she could count on: Sharon. A market analyst who’d been with TMB for over ten years, Sharon had job security courtesy of being outstanding at what she did and having a boss with clout who valued her.
    Chelsea jumped up and walked down the hall with her fingers crossed, hoping Sharon, too, hadn’t been called into meetings. Happily, she found Sharon in her interior office typing madly away on her computer and muttering to herself while clenching a pencil between her teeth, her words muffled by the chewed-up yellow graphite-filled stick the analyst adored gnawing on.
    “Hey,” Chelsea said, stopping just outside Sharon’s door.
    Sharon looked up, blinking, and then pulled the pencil out of her mouth. “Hey. What’s up?” She glanced at her computer screen and the time displayed in the corner of it. “It’s past five. You always bolt around now. What are you still doing here? Helping fix someone's computer again?” Sharon asked, referring to Chelsea's knack for computers and programming, a geeky and unattractive skill set that Chelsea did her best to downplay.
    “No, the big meeting? Didn’t you go?”
    Sharon rolled her eyes. “No. What a waste of time. Alan told me not to bother. If there’s trouble - which there probably will be - he’ll handle it.”
    Chelsea sagged against the door frame. “I love Alan. You’re so lucky.”
    “Ah, don’t let Kevin get to you. He’s all hot air.”
    “Easy for you to say. You know how I wanted you to come out with us tonight? To Ibiza? Well, now even I can’t go. Kevin just scheduled meetings until eight-thirty.”
    “What? He’s such a jerk. How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, by Kevin Fitch.”
    “What am I going to do?” Chelsea wailed, resisting the urge to wring her hands. She loved being dramatic, but she’d been told to stop multiple times by Sharon and didn’t want to piss off her friend right when she needed her most.
    “You’re going to go. Just go. You don’t have to take notes or anything, right?”
    “No, but he’ll get mad.”
    “What? That’s idiotic.”
    “No, really.”
    Sharon leaned back in her chair, putting the tip of her pencil in her mouth thoughtfully and nibbling on it.
    “That’s so dangerous,” Chelsea couldn’t help saying.
    “No, it's not. That's from the old days, when they had lead in them. And, besides, my pencil helps me think. Let’s see. You have to leave. How could you be helping me off-site?” Sharon said, leaning all the way back in her chair. Then she shot forward, flipping the pencil out of her