1

      ONE ORANGE. Five Triscuits. Three baby carrots. One ounce Jarlsberg cheese, cubed. Two Oreo cookies.

      Jane Dobson smiled at the perfection that was her lunch. The napkin, a new color for her, blue, had unfolded on her desk in a nice, neat square to reveal each item of food just as she’d packed it this morning. No crumbs. Not a one. That Hello Kitty lunch pail was really doing the job.

      Peeling the orange came next, which wasn’t easy because her nails were so short. She tried not to bite them, honestly. But it was hard to catch herself in the act. Mostly, she’d just notice her fingers as she typed, and the nails would be bitten to the quick.

      Oh, well. It’s not as if she was a hand model or anything. Besides, short nails made her really fast on the computer. She’d clocked herself at nearly one hundred words-per only last week. Four words more than a month ago.

      She ended up biting the orange peel, getting a squirt of that really sour stuff in her mouth. Grimacing, she turned her gaze to her special project, and the bad taste disappeared. Christmas cards were strewn across the right side of her desk. Some were very religious, with angels and wise men and stables. Some were whimsical, with animated reindeer, Santa in all sorts of situations, and several grinning mice. Then there were the more difficult kind. The ones with just words. Oh, sure, the calligraphy was always great, but how many Merry Christmases and Seasons Greetings could she put in her collage?

      She popped a cube of cheese into her mouth and chewed it very slowly. She always ate slowly, and it drove her family nuts, but too bad. She wasn’t ashamed of her eccentricities. They made her special.

      “Girl, you better not let him see you messing with those cards.”

      Jane looked up to see Kadisha King, a friend from the secretarial pool, standing right next to her desk. Kadisha held a manila folder against her chest as if it were top secret. Jane hadn’t even heard her approach. “It’s Christmas.”

      “He doesn’t care. Mr. Warren says no personal decorations at the desk, and that’s what he means.”

      “Surely Christmas is an exception.”

      Kadisha shook her head in that knowing way of hers. “Fine. Do your paper dolls. But do you know how many personal assistants Mr. Warren has had in the last five years?”

      Jane shook her head. She’d only been at Warren Industries for a year, and she wasn’t very good at gossip.

      “Eleven. You do the math.” Kadisha tapped the manila folder with one perfectly manicured nail. Then she went to Delia’s desk and put the folder in the in box.

      Delia Robinson was Mr. Warren’s executive assistant and she was on vacation until January 5, which meant that all the other secretaries had to work overtime. And that Jane got to see Mr. Charles Warren a whole lot more.