Pawn of Fate
Orion Steele
Mary Bee, my best friend and the marketing department's golden girl, was leaning against my cubicle, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Christ, Mary! Warn a girl next time," I said, clutching my chest dramatically.
Mary rolled her eyes, her perfectly manicured nails tapping an impatient rhythm on the cubicle wall. "Drama queen. Listen, we're going out tonight. No excuses."
I groaned. "Mary, I can't. I've got to finish this report on—"
"On the new wind turbine design that no one's going to read because it'll get buried under a mountain of corporate BS?" Mary cut in, raising an eyebrow.
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