Who You Know Read Online Free

a year. She wasn’t particularly good at her job; I knew I could do better. Back when she was a grunt like me, she often pawned her reports off on me to do and then she’d take the credit for my work. Yet she’d gotten three promotions by the time I’d finally gotten one.
    I had trouble paying attention to what Sharon said in the best of circumstances, but right now I was too painfully aware of the browser minimized in the corner of my screen to hear a word she said.
    â€œSo you’ll have those reports ready by the meeting tomorrow?” Sharon asked.
    â€œOf course!” Jen said.
    This was an audacious lie. There was no way we’d have those reports done.
    Expert Appliance had hired us to revamp their product line. To determine how to market the products most effectively, our department was doing the research to see what features consumers wanted in appliances like refrigerators, dishwashers, and washing machines. Our marketing department was producing marketing and sales collateral, and IT was designing Expert’s new Web site.
    This was the biggest project McKenna Marketing had ever done. We were staffing up to meet the demand, but even with the new hires, we couldn’t meet our deadlines, and we were falling hopelessly behind.
    â€œGreat,” Sharon said.
    As soon as Sharon was out of sight, Jen said, “God! I thought she would never leave. Let me just say now that women with cellulite-ridden elephant thighs have no right whatsoever wearing those kind of dresses, particularly ones covered in gigantic sunflowers.”
    I stifled a smile. Jen said out loud all the bitchy things I felt guilty for even thinking, which was precisely why I loved her. I opened my Internet browser and finally sent my message to Art.
    â€œSo how is Art?” she asked.
    â€œWonderful, as usual. His dogs are named Holden and Phoebe.”
    Jen looked confused.
    â€œFrom Catcher in the Rye , one of my all-time favorite books. I just like him more every day.”
    â€œOoh, he’s literary, too. And you’re such a big reader,” Jen said.
    That was true, though these days my tastes hardly ran toward the literary. I’d become more of a romance novel kind of girl.
    â€œI need to find a man, too. I can’t let Dave think I’m a spinster. But I don’t think I’m ready to try the personals.”
    Dave was Jen’s on again/off again boyfriend. They broke up about every other month. He’d move out and stay with a friend for a month or two; Jen would go out with several new guys, find them wanting, and welcome Dave back into her life, suddenly managing to forget all his faults.
    It would be a stretch for anyone to think of Jen as a spinster, to put it mildly. She had an amazing body and every item of her wardrobe was intended to emphasize this fact. Jen drove a twelve-year-old car, her five credit cards were practically transparent from overuse, and her apartment was microscopic, but her clothes were always stunning. She was the kind of woman whose T-shirts never wrinkled or frayed, the kind of woman who looked head-turningly good in a sweatshirt and jeans. She had brown eyes, and today she wore her striking red hair in a messy sort of ponytail bun that said clearly, “Look how I can just throw my hair up and still look gorgeous.”
    â€œI wish Tom would ask me out already,” Jen said.
    â€œJen, for the record, you’re asking for trouble if you date a coworker, but if you insist on dating Tom, why are you waiting for him to ask you out? Why don’t you just ask him yourself?”
    â€œIn some ideal feminist world, women could ask men out and things would work out, but that’s just not the way the world works.”
    â€œMaybe he’s not asking you out because he’s smart enough to know that it’s not a good idea to date a coworker.”
    Jen rolled her eyes.
    Tom worked in tech support, and Jen was constantly discovering