Jennifer Johnson Is Sick of Being Single Read Online Free

says.
    â€œA-men!” we all say back, except Christopher who says, “Gay men!”
    I look up and Brad is gone, lost in the crowd. Everyone starts shuffling toward the elevators and Christopher sprints off to some meeting.
    Mrs. Keller breezes up to me with a saccharine smile and says, “Is that my son’s jacket? He always gets some poor girl to take care of his things.”
    I nod but forget to let go of the coat. She has such a mean face.
    Her eyes sharpen as she tugs. “Can I please have it?”
    â€œWhat? Sorry!” I release my death-grip on Brad’s jacket.
    â€œNo problem!” she chirps and gives me a painful little grin as she whisks the red parka away. Something in me panics—I may never see it again.
    Upstairs I sit at my chair and stare at my blank computer screen. I can’t believe I didn’t know that was Ed Keller’s son. Why would a guy like that want me anyway? He’s handsome, rich, and well-connected. What am I? I’m a low-ranking copywriter in the marketing department of his dad’s department store and my skills include writing in-store signage like CHECK OUT OUR NEW LOOK ! And coming up with fairly compelling reasons to buy cardigans and sofas.
    I do have strong points. I, and I alone, am responsible for last year’s runaway best-selling boot sale: RE-BOOT ! Also, I suggested we change the KIDS department to be the K!DS department, which won me a xeroxed copy of the employee-of-the-month thank-you letter from our store president, Brad’s dad, and two Cinnabon coupons.
    Ted bounds into my cubicle. “Did I ever tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman in the world?” he asks. I ignore him and turn my computer on. Ted’s always saying slightly retarded things he thinks are funny. He professes his love for me on a daily basis, which is ridiculous. Ted in love with anyone is ridiculous. He’s the nicest, sweetest little guy you’ll ever meet and he treats me like a queen bee, but he’s short and has crew-cut red hair and basically looks like a maltreated redheaded wood elf.
    â€œWell, you are the most beautiful woman ever,” he says and sets a Starbucks on my desk. “Skim latte with nutmeg.”
    â€œThanks.” I take a careful sip.
    â€œGet any sleep last night?” he asks.
    I scroll over my loaded e-mail in-box. How can I already be behind when I just got to work? “Some,” I say, “eventually.”
    â€œGood. Lunesta?”
    â€œI took two Benadryl, drank a glass of red wine, and watched the Home Shopping Network until I passed out.”
    â€œThat would do it.”
    â€œI still didn’t get to sleep until about two in the morning. I saw an ad for an FLDS dress and I went online and bought one.”
    â€œAn FLD what?”
    â€œFundamentalist Mormon dress. You know those weird dresses Mormon women wear? High collars and poofy shoulders? They look like Little House on the Prairie dresses, but without buttons.”
    Ted makes a face. “Why would you want one of those?”
    â€œThey sell them to raise money for their compound or whatever.”
    â€œBut why do you want one?”
    â€œI don’t know, I thought maybe I would start talking to the Mormon girl who sold it to me and we would strike up an online friendship that would end up in a high-risk escape plan where I pick her and her sister-wives up on the Utah border or something. Also I can wear it next Halloween.”
    He stares at me and rests his chin on my vertical filing cabinet.
    â€œYou are so sexy,” he says. “I think I might die.”
    â€œDid you do Supersaver?”
    â€œYep,” he says. “Done.”
    â€œThank God. I hate Supersaver.”
    â€œI know.” He smiles. “I’m the best! Do you want to sing the Ted song?”
    â€œNo, I do not want to sing the Ted song.”
    â€œOh come on! It’s easy. I sing a line and then you just