Michael didn’t expect such a reaction. He knew perfectly well what Alex wanted to tell him and what he would inevitably hear. To avoid a controversial discussion on the sensitive topic of women, or rather his attitude towards them, he spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
He hoped that this time Alex would let go and skip a lecture about his outrageous, even scandalous, rowdy lifestyle that he didn’t accept.
“So what's going on?” He asked sincerely, hoping to finally find out the reason for his friend's strange behavior.
"If the chief editor reads my curriculum vitae, I'll end up in Alaska or the South Pole, so you'd better shut up." Alex said softly.
“It won't be that bad! Don't worry! At most, she will send you to the Paris-Dakar race in a Trabant!
Alex was in no mood to laugh. On his face, Michael could see a real sadness. He wondered what else he wrote in his resume? For sure, nothing he didn’t know. So what is the problem?
His friend graduated with honors in journalism, was fluent in three languages, and after graduation he received a scholarship at a prestigious university in the United States. So what could he be afraid of?
He is a brilliant, talented journalist, who was often pursued by competition magazines in order to poach him. Does he want to leave? Impossible.
Despite the large age difference, they understood each other perfectly. They spent their free time together. Alex was a frequent visitor to his house. He had unlimited access to his private empire and was free to use the rich library collections accumulated by him and his ancestors.
Michael felt that the ground was burning under his feet. This was just what he lacked for his friend to leave the competition. It was he who should change his job as he did not become the chief editor.
The previous evening, he was talking to his friends in a pub. He had publicly said that he was leaving the magazine because he saw no possibility of further cooperation with Williams and the new chief editor. He also tried to find out what was going on with the competition, where it would pay off to move.
An old friend from college gave him an offer to move to a public relations agency, but he refused almost immediately, realizing that he would be plowing there for a lot more money, and that the working day would be at least two or three hours longer. Not a profitable change.
Besides, he was constantly thinking how and where to move his ‘bar’ before the chief editor found out about it. He wanted to ask Alex for help, but found it impossible to talk to him today.
***
The next day, Alice was the first person to come to the magazines’ office again; then Nicolas, Alex with Thomas and all the women working for the magazine, who immediately took up their duties.
Alex and Thomas were sitting focused, waiting for the further development of events, because judging by the face of the chief editor, it was going to be another day full of emotions.
At exactly fifteen past nine, Alice got up from the almost empty collegiate table, went to the front door and to the surprise of those present, closed it, and then went back to her office. After a while, she returned with her laptop, sat down and began to work in complete silence.
Alex and Thomas didn’t want to accompany her. Anyway, there was no point in sitting further and waiting for their friends. Taking advantage of Jack's absence, who was also late, they went to the newsroom.
At about eleven-thirty, journalists began to gather outside the front door. The sounds of their loud discussions came from the corridor. The fact that they found the door closed was a shock to them. They thought there was no one there yet.
It happened many times that only Nicolas, his assistant Kate and someone from the advertising department sat in the editorial office until lunch time. There would be nothing extraordinary about it, if not for the fact that in the parking lot there was the chief editor’s jaguar, this time without a chauffeur, and also a car belonging to their boss Williams, and Thomas and Alex.
Attempts to reach both: the official lines of the editorial office and colleagues, were unsuccessful. All lines were busy and their colleagues' phones were off. It was then that they realised that something was wrong!
They waited patiently and discussed the previous day’s meeting in the Tavern, where they were partying until the premises was closed.
Eventually, Adam had the idea to go downstairs - the elevator, unfortunately, wasn't working again - to take the emergency keys from the concierge desk. Instead of the keys, the porter pointed him to an A4 sheet of paper hanging on the black ads board.
‘Dear ladies and gentlemen, if you would like to keep working, please be on time!’ It was signed: “Chief editor: A. McNielsen’.
Adam was speechless. He took off the note and took it upstairs to show it to his friends.
“She's a mean witch! Vengeful bastard! In the night club, she should dance by the pole, not manage the editorial office!” Michael summed up the content of the information.
“Gentlemen, there is nothing to worry about! After all, she won’t dismiss all of us.” Jack delivered his opinion.
“Why not?” Adam said, terrified of the situation. He managed to notice on the morning of the previous day that the chief editor had a tough character and won’t let them all get on her head.
"We don't know anything about her.” He continued. “Williams doesn’t care about us for about three months, he doesn't talk to anyone, except advertisers and friends visiting him on business. In fact...” He thought for a moment, analyzing the facts. “We don't know what's going on. Maybe the owners want to close the magazine, maybe we're just going bankrupt?”
“You might be right, man!” Simon nodded loudly to him. “We don't know anything since Nicolas stopped talking to us. As far as I know, the financial condition of the magazine, and the publishing house in general, is pretty good, we get our salaries on time so don't worry.”
"Unless... the new chief editor has already completed another team.” Adam expressed his assumptions.
“You talk nonsense, man!” Michael answered him. “We're damn good, why would they let go of us?"For insubordination, for anything!" Any reason could be good, wondered Adam. “Do you know how many unemployed journalists there are on the labor market?”Only silence answered him.“Would you like to look for a new job?” Adam turned to Michael with this question. But he didn't wait for an answer:“I don’t! I am quite well here. I have barely bought the apartment, I am going to dive the coral reefs on vacation, and I am paying off the loan. I have enough for me to pay the installments and for a decent life. I don't need anything more to be happy.” He paused for a moment to look at his friend. He could see the confusion painted on their faces.“Only a few of us can get a better job. Don't cheat yourself, gentlemen. I don't want to rot here until retirement, but I have no reason to comp
“And what's the use of this?” Jack asked, appalled.“You will get the money intended for painters!” She replied.“Okay, there were supposed to be three of them, and there are eight of us and three of our female friends.” Jack continued, irritated with the tone of her voice and the smile on the boss's face. Who cares about that money? What she is talking about?’“I'm not gonna fire you!” The chief editor announced with a stern expression on her face this time. “Enough?”They didn't know how to react to it. Their assumptions that the witch was planning to kick out the entire team turned out to be correct. She was just looking for an excuse. Maybe they should take their feet by the waist and run where the pepper grows? They considered themselves as ‘racial intellectuals’, preferred to work with their brains’ grey cells than to exercise their muscles.In the end,
“Damn! We're straight, man!” Jack drawled through clenched teeth.“Do we need to watch your shapely butt, man?” Simon asked, laughing. He was the complete opposite of his younger friend: about thirty centimeters shorter, stocky build, but he didn't care at all.A long time ago, he had accepted the fact that he has no chance of becoming a model. However, that didn’t diminish his sense of great humor. Even in the most dramatic moments of the editorial office's life, he was able to summon a bit of optimism, reach for a piece of paper, a pencil and draw a caricature of one of his colleagues.“Get out, Simon! I'm in no mood for jokes!” Alex said, offended. He didn’t tolerate discussions about his appearance. He considered taking care of his body and soul as a completely natural thing and conversations about it were unnecessary.“Alex, please!” Adam was begging, terrified. “In a moment we will ha
“We'll count next time!” Alex threatened Jack. “I'm going to eat!” He added calmly. "I won't sit here with this hypocrite."“And you? Are you holy?” Jack began to laugh. “Look, here we have a picture of a flawless narcissist!”“I have a clear conscience, unlike you... Show off to your friends, corrupt traitor, what photos you gave to Leo Walker.” Alex said calmly."You don't have the right to give a shit about who I'm meeting and what I'm doing!" He almost shouted, upset.“With who? Leo Walker? Jack, what’s going on?” Thomas asked, concerned about what he heard. “Alex, could you explain what you are talking about?”“What pictures?&
The next day, just before nine o’clock, the chief editor came to the office. She was surprised to see the editorial team sitting at the collegiate table on a Friday morning.Alex and Adam came right behind her.“Good morning, gentlemen!” She greeted them.“Not good morning, but bad morning…” Michael began to complain about sleeplessness. In addition, regardless of the presence of the editor, he stretched as if he was still in bed in his bedroom, not at work.“Shut up, Michael!” Thomas sitting next to him, also sleepy, tried to bring him to order. "Dude, you barely got up, you're already complaining. You were supposed to change! Shave! Brush up!”"Shh..." Michael put a finger to his lips. “I have a headache! Don't yell behind my ears!”“Gentlemen, I have a surprise!” The chief editor announced. "There's a package on my desk in my office. Can one of you bring it in,
At twenty to ten, in complete silence, they began to leave the editorial office. They were waiting at the main exit of the building. It soon turned out that not only the chief editor and all the females were going to the event, but also Nicolas Williams, who had just parked his car in front of the building.The bosses cunningly waited for the male half of the team to leave, then followed right behind them so that one wouldn’t have the opportunity to get missing and disappear somewhere around the corner unnoticed.Journalists really wanted to get lost, but assumed that the consequences could be severe.When they entered the sports hall belonging to the Academy of Physical Education, they lost the rest of their good humor for the day.“Damn it! What are we doing here? There are journalists of all local mass media, and maybe even national ones.” Simon commented. “And there are even those damn spectators!”The huge sports
Soon, the journalists of the ‘Man’ began to clap. Their witch in a turquoise suit looked great, standing next to the competitors warming up their muscles before the start. But instead of warming up, Alice stood almost motionless, looking at the opposite edge of the pool.The boys, looking at her, had no doubts that she spent her free time not like them, in the Tavern, but working hard on her physical condition. However, they were aware that having a beautifully built body does not mean that it can swim well.They began to argue that the competition was controversial, not very fair, as there were two women and four men taking part in it, and the distance was as long as two lengths of the pool.For a moment they forgot about the hatred, anger, the fragile male honor and the painting she forced them to do. They really hoped that their chief editor not only looked great, but she could swim, and that'd be good enough.“And racing on electric
Alex didn’t object when someone called over a doctor who was watching over the players. The diagnosis managed to bring everyone down. The medic decided to take the injured to the hospital for observation and X-ray. Adam standing next to him, the culprit of all the fuss, looked no better than the injured Alex. He didn't want to knock out his friend, he just wanted to distract him. Now, he felt remorse and had a moral hangover. Faced with the requests and pleas of his colleagues, Alex ended up sitting on the stand with an ice pack on his head. It was the only thing he could do for his colleagues. Stay on the sidelines until the end of the tournament. Observe and support them in spirit. The last discipline of the competition turned out to be extremely dramatic. It was attended by the entire ‘Man’ team except for the injured Alex and Alice, who sat worriedly next to him. The injured person didn’t feel well, but kept a cool head and didn’t move from his se