P.S. You're Intolerable (The Harder They Fall, #3)

by Julia Wolf

But that little red envelope glared at me from my desktop, telling me there was more to my boss than what was on his slick surface. Glaring back at it, I whispered, “Go fuck yourself. You’re just a card. What do you know? You don’t even have a brain.” Now that I’d told the inanimate object off—undoubtedly a new low for me—I sat down in my chair and turned on my computer, getting back to work.