PART III: Fireworks with My Bad Boss

Kelsey

The clicker on my mouse was sticking with each tap of my finger. My teeth ground after each press, frustrated that I’d put off ordering a new mouse. 

Why don’t you just use the touchpad? My very opinionated, egotistical, and obnoxiously beautiful boss had pointed out earlier in the week after watching me slam it against my desk for the umpteenth time. Mr. Craft always had a comment for everything, and especially liked to tease me about my “dead” technology.

My phone rang, and I hastily answered, agitated for more reasons than just the clicker on my mouse being stubborn. “Kelsey Neely,” I answered, my voice higher than normal.

“Let’s get out of here,” my best friend sang on the other line. Her office was one floor above mine, her job being the receptionist for Gary Sneed, the co-owner of Craft and Sneed Marketing. We’d worked here for two and a half years, and while I was eager to climb the