
Quick Look
Office Grump
By Nicole Snow
My "interview" with bosshole supreme was anything but normal. He picked the worst day ever to chase me off my favorite park bench. I retaliated with a spray of cinnamon latte all over his Italian shoes. Then—for some unholy reason—Magnus Heron offered me a job. Even his name sounds like a piece of work. Guess what? He is. But when you're single, broke, and barely surviving in Chicago, you hop on the gift horse offering a six-figure salary and ride.
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