About Taste Test: Office Relations

by Kalita Kasar, Sean Michael, and Glyn Soitino
31 pages / 14250 words
ISBN-13: 978-1-60370-659-9
ISBN-10: 1-60370-659-3
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc

The guy you see every day at the office might just be the man of your dreams, right? Who knows until they try? In Office Politics, by Kalita Kasar, times are tough for Kent and Lewis. Their construction business is taking a hit, and Lewis doesn't know how much more he can take. Thank goodness his partner Kent knows just what to do to make everything, even office politics, better.

In Lockdown, by Glyn Soitiño, Ian is going to be working late, thanks to his insensitive boss. He thinks his luck has taken a turn for the worse when sexy Jake has to stay late, too. He finds out just how good bad luck can be when his high tech building goes into lockdown, and Jake is the only other person around. Finally, in Bonus, by Sean Michael, Jack thinks his new client, Mr. Leonid, is a picky bastard. He's also sexy, demanding, and very determined to get his money's worth from Jack. Will the two men find an arrangement that suits them both?

Sample

Bonus
by Sean Michael

Jack looked at the galleys again and rubbed the back of his neck. This client was a fucking bear. Like a snarly, rumbly, slavering bear.

He'd been designing this logo for four days, working on one change after another for the growly motherfucker that was the owner of JL Leonid Realty.

Make the second L bigger.

Make it more colorful.

Take out the blue.

Where's the blue?

Make it a script J.

No script.

Change this. Change that. Bigger, smaller, move this to the left.

He was going to kill someone, and the fucking project was due to the client tonight, so he was going to miss the game on the big screen, miss ordering Chinese. He was fucking taking tomorrow off.

His phone rang, the number to JL Loenid Realty coming up on the call display. Son of a bitch. Even the ring sounded grumpy and demanding.

"Jack Lyons." He wasn't going to be nice anymore. It was six o' fucking clock.

"It's Leonid." That was it. No 'hello,' no 'how are you?' and no fucking 'this is why I'm calling.'

"How can I help you?" Besides beating you to death with a shovel?

"It's after six. Where's my logo?"

"The project is due to you tonight, which gives me time and, after the number of changes you made, you can't expect that it'll be early."

Fuckhead.

"I've got an event to go to. You can drop the artwork at my place after ten. One Forty Maple Avenue."

The phone went dead.

"Fuck you."

God that felt good.

"Fuck you."

He slammed the phone down on the cradle, over and over, screaming in pure frustration.

"FUCKER! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCKFUCKFUCK!"

Oh, that felt better.