"Shanna Swendson - Enchanted, Inc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swendson Shanna)

business network on my behalf. I'd looked at this job as a temporary fix to tide me
over until I found something better, but I was still here a year later. I suspected I'd
have to gnaw my own arm off to get out of this trap.

My computer finally finished booting up, and I checked my e-mail. The top
message, received just minutes ago, said, "Excellent Opportunity for Kathleen
Chandler." Excellent opportunities were few and far between, and they seldom came
in e-mail. I suspected that, in spite of the seemingly personalized subject line (which
probably came from my e-mail address, anyway), it had something to do with
enlarging a body part I didn't have. I deleted the message and scrolled down to find
the message I always had waiting for me on Monday mornings: Mimi's staff meeting
agenda.

I fixed the typos, printed it out, then skimmed over it while I walked to the copier.
This one didn't seem to have too many minefields in it, just the usual status reports. I
might survive, after all. I made copies of the agenda and returned to my office. There
was a new e-mail waiting for me, probably a revised agenda from Mimi. But when I
clicked over to my e-mail program, it was just another "great opportunity" spam, this
time adding the words "don't delete!" to the subject line. With a sense of perverse
satisfaction, I deleted it. It was probably the only act of rebellion I'd get away with all
day.

I knew better than to be late for one of Mimi's meetings, so I put the agendas inside
my notepad, got my pen, coffee mug, and lunch, and headed for the kitchen. There,
I put my lunch in the communal refrigerator and poured myself a cup of coffee
before going to the conference room. I reminded myself that after surviving the
meeting, the rest of the day should be easy.

I wasn't the only one who looked like I was attending my own execution. April, the
advertising manager, was already in the conference room, and her face was an ashy
shade of white. Leah, the public relations manager, looked serene, but I knew that
was just because she was taking prescription tranquilizers. Janice, the events
manager, had a nervous tic. The only person who didn't look stressed or medicated
was Joel, the sales liaison, but that was only because he didn't report directly to
Mimi. It was the last Monday of the month, so it was just a managers' meeting
instead of the whole staff, or else the room would have been full of a lot more
anxious bodies. I was, by far, the lowest person on the totem pole, but I was there in
my capacity as Mimi's brain. Apparently, when you have an expensive MBA, you
lose the ability to take notes for
yourself in meetings and remember what was discussed.

I handed agendas to everyone at the table. We didn't talk to one another while we
waited. That was too risky. You never knew when Mimi would make her grand
entrance and hear something out of context that would set her off. Nobody wanted
to be responsible for bringing out Evil Mimi. Instead, we all studied our agendas,
looking for potential trouble spots.

As usual, Mimi was ten minutes late for her own meeting. I knew enough about
nonverbal communication to know she was sending us a not-so-subtle signal that her
time was more valuable than ours. She opened both of the conference room's