I fixed the typos, printed it out, then skimmed over it while I walked to the copier.

This one didn't seem to have too many minefields in it, just the usual status reports. I might survive, after all. I made copies of the agenda and returned to my office. There was a new e-mail waiting for me, probably a revised agenda from Mimi. But when I clicked over to my e-mail program, it was just another "great opportunity" spam, this time adding the words "don't delete!" to the subject line. With a sense of perverse satisfaction, I deleted it. It was probably the only act of rebellion I'd get away with all day.

I knew better than to be late for one of Mimi's meetings, so I put the agendas inside my notepad, got my pen, coffee mug, and lunch, and headed for the kitchen. There, I put my lunch in the communal refrigerator and poured myself a cup of coffee before going to the conference room. I reminded myself that after surviving the meeting, the rest of the day should be easy.

I wasn't the only one who looked like I was attending my own execution. April, the advertising manager, was already in the conference room, and her face was an ashy shade of white. Leah, the public relations manager, looked serene, but I knew that was just because she was taking prescription tranquilizers. Janice, the events manager, had a nervous tic. The only person who didn't look stressed or medicated was Joel, the sales liaison, but that was only because he didn't report directly to Mimi. It was the last Monday of the month, so it was just a managers' meeting instead of the whole staff, or else the room would have been full of a lot more anxious bodies. I was, by far, the lowest person on the totem pole, but I was there in my capacity as Mimi's brain. Apparently, when you have an expensive MBA, you lose the ability to take notes for

yourself in meetings and remember what was discussed.

I handed agendas to everyone at the table. We didn't talk to one another while we waited. That was too risky. You never knew when Mimi would make her grand entrance and hear something out of context that would set her off. Nobody wanted to be responsible for bringing out Evil Mimi. Instead, we all studied our agendas, looking for potential trouble spots.

As usual, Mimi was ten minutes late for her own meeting. I knew enough about nonverbal communication to know she was sending us a not-so-subtle signal that her time was more valuable than ours. She opened both of the conference room's double doors, then paused like she was a talk-show guest waiting for the studio audience's applause to die down before she took her seat on Oprah's couch.

"Good morning, Mimi," I said, even though we'd exchanged morning greetings not all that long ago. But she would have stood there all day waiting for someone to acknowledge her presence, and as her assistant, one of my unwritten duties was to make her feel special. The others all mumbled greetings. She finally closed the doors behind her, then swept to her usual seat at the head of the table. I handed her a copy of the agenda, which she studied like she wasn't the one who'd written it, before she looked up and addressed the group.

"We'll keep this short because we all have a busy week with a lot to get done," she said brusquely. Her tone was different enough from her earlier chatty friendliness that I grew nervous. "First item on the agenda is departmental reports. April?"

April went a shade paler. Even her lips were white. "We have a meeting with the agency later this week to discuss their ideas for the next campaign and review their suggested media buy."

"Is that meeting on my calendar?"

"Yes, it is," I told her, trying to give April a break. "Remember, I checked with you about that last week?" As soon as I said it, I knew it was a huge mistake. Everyone else in the room tensed. They all knew how badly I'd goofed. Mimi couldn't handle being questioned or criticized, not even something as mild as pointing out something she'd forgotten.

I got even more nervous when she didn't immediately turn into Evil Mimi. Instead, she just nodded and said, "Okay. Be sure to send me a reminder. Leah?"

In her drugged calm tone, Leah said, "We should get last week's clips from the agency by close of business today. And we'll get the first draft of the new product release tomorrow."

Mimi nodded. "I want to see those as soon as you get them." I made a note of Leah's report and the action item as Mimi turned to Janice, who visibly flinched.

"Any news from events?" Mimi asked. Janice had been on her hit list for a long time, thus the nervous tic and the fact that Mimi never called her by name. None of us, not even Janice, was sure what Janice had done wrong.

"We're still getting estimates on locations for the product launch. There isn't much within our budget that's large enough but still nice."

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