Bitch Witch Read Free Page A

weekend? How’re you doing?” Avery Gross, appropriately named, hovered over the fabric wall, invading Sarah’s personal space with his bleached smile and Edward Cullen hair. A mid-level manager, Avery had been promoted over Sarah last week. Since then he had managed to mention it daily, with small doses of, your time will come! It was always said politely, if self-satisfied, because he really wanted to fuck her.
    “I’m just ducky! Yourself?”
    The phrase had become Sarah’s standard reply, but Avery didn’t really need any prompting to launch into his weekend commentary.
    Sarah was okay with that. It saved her from lying. She couldn’t say her weekend had flown by; it had crawled. Other than casting, blowing up someone’s engine and being woven into a love spell, most of it had been spent lying on the couch watching old Meg Ryan movies on mute and rereading novels. Watching or reading anything new might take her mind in dangerous directions, especially during PMS weekend. So Sarah had laid low until cramps and the need for sugar and carbs drove her to make that disastrous Sunday night dash for sustenance.
    Do not think about the damn cowboy! Especially not with Avery and his bulging pants now at eye-level. Standing inside her cubicle now, Avery blathered on about Cape Cod, both hands in his pockets. The better to rock back on his heels from time to time and practically shove his dick in her face.
    Sarah nodded, trying not to look at the bulge. Although, if she didn’t work with him, and if she hadn’t instituted a zero sex with other employees policy, she’d be all over that. Purely for educational purposes. Maybe size does matter.
    Someone down the hall called to Avery that the team meeting was about to start. He looked at his Apple watch. “Gotta fly. Management status meet up every single Monday morning at seven!” He exaggerated the last few words as though weary of it, as though it wasn’t only his second meeting.
    “Let me know if anyone wants coffee,” Sarah said, ignoring a hip thrust.
    Avery lowered his voice. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
    “I don’t mind.”
    “Some people,” he darted his eyes around the empty office area before continuing, “might get the wrong idea.”
    “Wrong idea?”
    “Well, you don’t want them to think you’re brown nosing. I mean I know you’re not, don’t get me wrong. But you know how people are. Maybe you should take it down a notch. We noticed you’re a good employee. We appreciate you, and you’ll break the glass ceiling on your own one of these days. There’s no need to suck up. You’re a shoe-in. You’ve got the girl-card.” He winked.
    Brown noser? Girl card?
    We realize you’re a good employee?
    Suck up?
    Annoyance flared in the pit of Sarah’s stomach. They’d offered Avery’s job to Sarah first. She’d turned them down. Mindless, meaningless tasks were why she’d taken this job. She didn’t want to break any glass ceiling or climb a corporate ladder. All she wanted was to keep her hands busy, her mind preoccupied with the mundane, and not cast any effing spells. If she could do all that, maybe she wouldn’t be swallowed up by dark matter at a young age.
    “You’re not really going to eat that?” Avery indicated the éclair on her desk and patted his perfectly flat stomach. “Just say no! Isn’t that what they say?”
    Teeth clenched together in a perfect smile, Sarah said, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. They say that.”
    Avery leaned over her, the crotch to face ratio briefly neared to a mere ten centimeters. He crouched down beside her, nabbed the plate and tried a pathetic Scooby Doo impression with the donut as his puppet, “Rut-roh, Sar-rah, I’m rot real reakfast!”
    Good gravy, maybe he doesn’t want to fuck me. Maybe he wants me to maim him.
    “Seriously though, you don’t want to eat junk. You’d be surprised how fast a Daphne can become a Velma.” Winking again, he plopped the