Death Layer (The Depraved Club) Read Online Free

listening to
what they have to say, their concerns. Their insights and experience would give
me a good idea of the needs and next steps to take.”
    “A team player, always good. And what about you, Ms. Clark?
” Mr. King turns his full attention on me with an energy and focus that make me
feel naked. 
    I meet his gaze, ignoring my flushed cheeks. I could say
something pithy about business. I know about the acquisition difficulties they
are having with ElectricCub software, and have some opinions.
    But those piercing blue eyes don’t seem like they can be
outsmarted in their home territory. I shift tactics.
    “I’d paint all the walls,” I say, looking around the room
pointedly. “More color, more energy.”
    He blinks at me. “Are you insinuating my tastes are bland
Ms. Clark?”
    My eyes narrow. I sense he’s toying with me, the way Rachel
does. “I thought I was the CEO now, Mr. King. Change isn’t personal, it’s the future.
I think maybe butter yellow for the offices and French Provincial blue for the
hallways.”
    I put on my best business smile. Now I can see the ghost of
a smirk around his lips and know I read him right, but the other girls are
staring at me like I have two heads.
    “Touché, Miss Clark,” he glances down at the folder in front
of him and writes something down. “Using my own company’s slogan against me.
All right ladies, next question: it’s your last meal on death row, what are you
having? Back to you, Ms. Walker.”
    Wow, that’s kind of grim for corporate America. But then,
I’d read that Mr. King is famous for unconventional interview questions and
startling negotiation tactics.
    Ms. Walker frowns, obviously thrown. “My last meal?”
    This clearly wasn’t on the list of questions she’s practiced
answering. She glances pleadingly at carrot-top but he’s checking his watch,
and then she locks eyes with me briefly. I can see a glimmer of panic and I try
to smile encouragingly.
    “Can I just ask for clarification as to how this question
relates to assessing my skill level and compatibility for Skollz Corp?” asks
Walker.
    Mr. King is a perfect gentleman, but it seems to me his eyes
go a shade cooler as he scribbles something down. “I’m just hoping to get to
know you a little better, Ms. Walker. Since my assistant and I will be spending
a great deal of time together, it’s nice to discover a relatable human beneath
the professional.”
    “Oh,” she says, still frowning. “I see.” She pauses for a
long second. “My favorite meal is Thanksgiving, so I’d have a Thanksgiving
dinner. Tur-turkey.”
    “A classic,” Mr. King says, smiling. Ms. Walker sighs,
relieved. “How about you, Ms. Peterson?”
    Peterson preens, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “My
last meal, oooh,” she laughs. “That’s such a hard choice, I just love food.”
    I glance at her stick arms and can’t help but raise my
eyebrows. Liar . I feel Mr. King glance my way and force my features back
to neutral.
    “Well I’ve been a vegan for about nine years now,” Peterson
prattles, “And it’s really changed my life and my relationship to food, so, it
would have to be something vegan. Fear-free food. People don’t realize how many
great vegan options there are, especially in New York City. I love them all,
it’s hard to pick! If I had to have just one thing, I guess it would have to be
a big vegan enchilada with guacamole and rice. And maybe some dolce de leche.”
    “Wouldn’t dolce de leche be off limits?” Mr. King says,
smiling. “You like breaking rules?” He’s toying with her, too. I feel less
special.
    She laughs a little too hard. “Sometimes, but I wouldn’t
have to break any rules with vegan dolce de leche!” She wags a finger at him,
playfully biting her lip.
    Ew.
    “Ah, made out of tofu or something?” Mr. King flashes a
smile. He’s so pretty. I look away from his perfect teeth to Peterson’s
uncomfortably flirtatious grin. “Okay. Interesting. And Miss