Indiscriminate Attraction. Linda Hudson-Smith

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      Laylah set the manila folder on the right-hand corner of March’s desk. “All the information you’re after is inside here, sir,” she said, pointing at the file. She then turned and walked away, gritting her teeth out of sheer frustration.

      “Not so fast, young lady,” he said. “I need you to go over with me what’s in this folder. You seem to be in an awful hurry.”

      Laylah turned sharply on her heel and looked dead into March’s eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I have very important work to do. All you have to do is open the folder and read what’s inside. You can read, can’t you?”

      March’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits, hoping Laylah read the danger sign there. It would serve her well to check her tongue. “I can read, but I’d rather you read it to me.”

      Exasperated was an understatement for what Laylah felt. She had two choices: she could stay and read the contents of the file to him or she could go back to her desk and finish her feature story. Selecting the last option would more than likely get her fired.

      Taking the least controversial way out, Laylah opted to sit back down, praying for an abundance of patience. Slowly, almost methodically, she picked up the folder and opened it. She then read to March the date, time and location of Patricia Blakeley’s retirement dinner, the projected number of guests who had already RSVP’d, the regrets and the numbers of those who hadn’t responded one way or the other.

      The meal choices and prices per person were run down for March, as well as the company information on the DJ and his fees. Last but not least, Laylah gave March the list of gifts suggested for the retiree. “No final decision on a gift has been made.”

      “What’s the total projected budget for all this?” March queried Laylah.

      After turning the folder around so March could see the top sheet, she pointed at the last set of numbers. “Those are the bottom-line figures.”

      March whistled. “That’s a lot of money to spend on someone unworthy. Well, I guess it’s a small price to pay to finally be rid of her. Patricia is a constant thorn in my side. The woman has too much darn mouth. I hope I never hear her speak again.”

      Laylah understood all too well why March had made such ignorant statements. Patricia was one of the employees who had made several complaints against him. She made no secret regarding the way she felt about him, telling anyone who’d listen that March was an inadequate administrator, one that should’ve never been hired.

      Laylah agreed with Patricia wholeheartedly.

      “Now that you have everything you’ve requested, may I please return to work?”

      March looked down his wide nose at Laylah. “By all means. Thank you.”

      The polite way in which March had last spoken had Laylah wondering if she’d heard him correctly. Even when he tried to be nice he still annoyed her, just as his condescending look had done. “You’re welcome.” Hoping she could get out of March’s office without any further communication with him, Laylah rushed to the exit.

      March cleared his throat. “Hope you meet your deadline. Being late won’t look good for your record, especially on your next evaluation.”

      If I have my way, you’ll never do another evaluation at this newspaper.

      After Laylah returned to her desk, she sat down and began pounding away at the computer keys. Staying focused was a must if she was to meet her deadline. There had been enough disruptions already—and now she had to put her nose to the grindstone.

      Less than an hour later, Laylah skidded into the printing area, where she handed over her feature story to Sean Lackland, the senior copy editor.