Job: bad. Love life: dead. Cubicle neighbor: also dead.
Gee, Hayley Jane Smith had no idea that a decomposing body was so smelly. She thought it was the take-out food everyone eats at her San Francisco dot-com. But, no, poor old boring Fred has been dead for more than a day. Well, at least Hayley wasn’t the only one who didn’t notice. And just check out the sexy detective who’s come to investigate: Hayley can’t take her eyes off Grant Hutchinson, and she can’t believe he’d make a pass at her when there were maggots swarming over a corpse only inches away—but he does. Time to call up the usual gang of bitchy girlfriends and discuss it endlessly. Do Andrea, Suz, and Diane think Grant is interested in her? Does she have something really cute in black for Fred’s funeral? Should she sleep with Grant or just dry-hump the suave guy in Armani she met at a bar? Really big question: Will she ever be able to afford furniture that isn’t from Ikea? But then Hayley gets fired and can’t find another job. What to do? Sell beer with busty Suz? Explore her sexuality with dowdy Berkeley grad student Diane? Learn to kick ass from corporate dominatrix Andrea? Maybe they can all just sit around talking.
Mean-spirited characters and elaborately snotty prose don’t do much for this lifeless first outing. (Note to those who think chick-lit books are interchangeable: the stock cover photo of four towel-clad women is the same one used for The Goddesses of Kitchen Avenue, p. 1336).