Louise tried not to show her scowl as Herb from marketing leaned in. “Stroke of midnight, we’re supposed to kiss,” he said, grinning.
It was bad enough she had to spend her New Year’s Eve at a company party in the office she loathed surrounded by people she despised. New year, she thought, new me.
Watching the ball on TV, the corporate drones counted down. “Three…two…one...”
Herb leaned in for his kiss, but instead she pulled a grenade from her purse and kissed it with her teeth.
“Happy new year,” she spat as she tossed it to him, then ran.