The Hating Game Read Online Free Page A

are you? How’s your day going?” I sign for the package on his handheld device with a sweaty hand. Him and his big mouth.
    â€œYour parents bought you a Smurf for graduation?” Joshua lounges in his chair and watches me with cynical interest. I hope my body didn’t warm the leather.
    â€œYeah, yeah, I’m sure you got a car or something.” I’m mortified.
    â€œI’m fine, sweetheart,” Andy tells me, taking the little gizmo back from me and hitting several buttons and putting it in his pocket. Now that the business component of our interaction is completed, he pulls his mouth into a beguiling grin.
    â€œAll the better for seeing you. I tell you, Josh my friend, if I sat opposite this gorgeous little creature I wouldn’t get any work done.”
    Andy hooks his thumbs into his pockets and smiles at me. I don’t want to hurt his feelings so I roll my eyes good-humoredly.
    â€œIt’s a struggle,” Joshua says sarcastically. “Be glad you get to leave.”
    â€œHe must have a heart of stone.”
    â€œHe sure does. If I can knock him out and get him into a crate, can you have him delivered somewhere remote?” I lean on my desk and look at my tiny parcel.
    â€œInternational shipping rates have increased,” Andy warns. Joshua shakes his head, bored with the conversation, and begins to log on.
    â€œI’ve got some savings. I think Joshua would love an adventure vacation in Zimbabwe.”
    â€œYou’ve got an evil streak, haven’t you!” Andy’s pocket makes a beep and he begins to rummage and walk to the elevator.
    â€œWell, Lovely Luce, it’s been a pleasure as always. I will see you soon, no doubt, after your next online auction.”
    â€œBye.” When he disappears into the elevator, I turn back to my desk, my face automatically faded to neutral.
    â€œAbsolutely pathetic.”
    I make a Jeopardy! buzzer sound. “Who is Joshua Templeman?”
    â€œLucinda flirting with couriers. Pathetic.”
    Joshua is hammering away on his keyboard. He certainly is animpressive touch typist. I stroll past his desk and am gratified by his frustrated backspacing.
    â€œI’m nice to him.”
    â€œYou? Nice?”
    I’m surprised by how hurt I feel. “I’m lovely. Ask anyone.”
    â€œOkay. Josh, is she lovely?” he asks himself aloud. “Hmm, let me think.”
    He picks up his tin of mints, opens the lid, checks them, closes it, and looks at me. I open my mouth and lift my tongue like a mental patient at the medication window.
    â€œShe’s got a few lovely things about her, I suppose.”
    I raise a finger and enunciate the words crisply: “Human resources.”
    He sits up straighter but the corner of his mouth moves. I wish I could use my thumbs to pull his mouth into a huge deranged grin. As the police drag me out in handcuffs I’ll be screeching, Smile, goddamn you.
    We need to get even, because it’s not fair. He’s gotten one of my smiles, and seen me smile at countless other people. I have never seen him smile, nor have I seen his face look anything but blank, bored, surly, suspicious, watchful, resentful. Occasionally he has another look on his face, after we’ve been arguing. His Serial Killer expression.
    I walk down the center line of the tile again and feel his head swivel.
    â€œNot that I care what you think, but I’m well liked here. Everyone’s excited about my book club, which you’ve made pretty clear you think is lame, but it will be team building, and pretty relevant, given where we work.”
    â€œYou’re a captain of industry.”
    â€œI take the library donations out. I plan the Christmas party. I let the interns follow me around.” I’m ticking them off on my fingers.
    â€œYou’re not doing much to convince me you don’t care what I think.” He leans back farther into his chair, long fingers