“Ah!” she sighs. “Lifestyles of the rich and famous.”
I snort. “I had to save for five months, and I found them in a second-hand shop! Anyway you’ve got an amazing job. How is it going, by the way?”
She smiles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears. “I love it, really I do. I mean, it’s only been a week, sure, but so far it’s going super. The boss though—oh my God, you should see him, Kat. He’s gorgeous.”
“Oh, do share. I need some mind candy for my spank bank.”
She gives me a horrified look. “What’s a girl like you, who looks like you, doing with a spank bank?”
“I don’t have time to get a boyfriend.”
“But you could get laid . . .” She points out.
I shake my head from side to side, backing up. Candy enjoys match-making. No, I mean she really enjoys it. She thinks she has a knack for creating these perfect relationships. She doesn’t. The last guy she set me up with farted during dinner. Farted. Then he laughed like he didn’t just fart in an expensive Italian restaurant. It was a truly beautiful moment. No really, there’s nothing wrong with a giant fart in a restaurant.
“No set-ups!”
She pouts prettily. “Okay, maybe not, but we could get you a fine piece of ass to take home and shag.”
Shag. Who uses that word?
“I’m not shagging anyone,” I protest.
Though it’s not a bad idea. Jack and Teddy, my vibrators, have well and truly deserved a break. And God, have I missed male company. It’s been two years since I’ve been on a date, and at least twelve months since I’ve been fucked. I’d kill to be fucked, just against a dirty wall, maybe over a car hood, something to take the edge off all these sexual fantasies building inside me.
I certainly have nothing at work to fantasize about. My boss is obese, smelly and a complete asshole. Why can’t I have a super sexy boss who looks