Bad Boy by Olivia Goldsmith Page A

challenging boys we do like? Why are we addicted to difficult men?” Tracie asked.
    “They’re such a big challenge,” Sara said. “There’re loads of them at the Times. ”
    They were stepping in sync and their arms p. 98 swung. “Yeah. It isn’t easy to get a bad boy to love you, but you feel like if they did, it would really be an accomplishment,” Beth added.
    “I think they appeal to our maternal instinct,” Laura responded.
    “Get outta town!” Sara and Beth answered at the same time.
    Tracie wished she had her Post-its.
    “No. Listen,” Laura continued. “It’s like we get to practice on them. You know, they need attention like an infant.”
    “I think it’s because they’re easy,” Beth said.
    “Boy, are they not easy,” Sara added.
    “But they are in a way,” Beth asserted. “You never get really close to them, so you never have to test your own ability to love.”
    All of them stopped, silent. For a moment, none of them wanted to meet one another’s eyes. Even Tracie, the reporter, felt uncomfortable.
    They all dismounted the treadmills and proceeded to the bicycles.
     
    They were late getting back to the office from the gym. Beth was gathering her papers in a frenzy while also trying to brush her hair. Tracie entered her cubicle area. “Come on, you’ll be late. Your hair looks fine. And Marcus will ignore you anyway.”
    “I just hate these meetings.”
    “Everyone does. But today I’m going to beard the lion in his den. I’ve got a really great feature idea.”
    p. 99 Beth looked at her doubtfully as she exited her office and Tracie followed her down the hall. “You’re crazy. Why discuss it in front of everyone and let him humiliate you?”
    “Because I think I can get support from everyone. This is a really good idea. Funny. Cute.”
    “And we all know how Marcus loves funny and cute.”
    As the door to the conference room opened, Tracie could see that the meeting had been in progress for a while. She turned and shot Beth a look to tell her they were screwed. As she took her seat, she tried not to make eye contact with Marcus. He sat at the head of the table, an unlit cigarette jiggling in the corner of his mouth as he talked. “Nice of you to join us, ladies. Beth, did you get your piece on the new mayor finished?”
    “Not quite, but I can get it in tomorrow.”
    “It better be good.” He turned his attention to Tracie. “As for you, I want a feature on Memorial Day.” Tracie tried not to show her excitement. It was the only holiday she cared about. She’d been hoping for this, and she had even planned to do some interviews with World War II veterans. She tried, though, not to show any enthusiasm. Marcus kept going around the table. “As for you, Tim, I’d like the indoor picnic story by Friday. And Sara, you get the author interview. I think this week Susann Baker Edmonds is in town,” Marcus added, yawning.
    Sara huffed as Allison tried getting Marcus’s p. 100 attention by flinging back her perfect blond mane. “Uh, Marcus? I thought I could cover the Radiohead concert.”
    “Forget it. You just want to sleep with them,” Marcus said nonchalantly. “Well, if there aren’t any more ideas or pitches, class is dismissed.” He stood up.
    “Actually, I have an ‌ —”
    “Ah, the lovely Miss Higgins. Last Moment Higgins?” Marcus asked, and walked up behind Tracie.
    “I’m sorry,” Tracie said.
    “I’m Sorry Higgins. I. S. Higgins. Don’t Edit Me Higgins. Yes?” He put his hands on her shoulders.
    She hated it when he did that. Though she really didn’t like making eye contact with him, either. “I have this idea for a . . . well, for a makeover piece.”
    “What? Like those women’s magazines do? The beauteous Allison tried to thrust one of those at me, and even she couldn’t get me to bite . . .” He must have smiled at Allison, because she had a look on her face that was like a child being noticed by her daddy. “Although I was