The beauty wasn’t very talkative. She was also not shy. The boys admired the otherworldly phenomenon, continuing to play bridge. They decided that she was definitely not a journalist, because ‘she is definitely too pretty to have efficient grey cells’.
Someone had pitched in that she would be the new assistant of the chief editor, but they were having serious problems figuring out her responsibilities. In their only male controversial vocabulary, interspersed with spicy comparisons, they said that she would bring him coffee if, of course, she managed to cover the route from the editorial kitchen to his office in ‘meter’ high heels.
With the eyes of the soul, they saw her scope of duties, including the most important one: creating an effective background during business meetings in order to effectively distract from the main topics of conversations and business discussions.
Michael, fascinated by the stranger's extraordinary beauty, offered her to bring her something to drink, quite gallantly as it seemed to him. ‘Zero! Empty box!’ The beautiful and phenomenal woman who was still absorbed in reading, didn’t even react.
Only now he noticed that an unexpected visitor was devouring an English-language men's magazine. He felt deeply offended by her ignorance. Torn by mixed emotions, especially anger for unrequited interest, he asked:
“Sorry to ask, but will you be a guest on one of our centrefold?”
Missed point for the second time. Not a single word was uttered. Not only that, he also saw no reaction from her, not even the slightest gesture or contraction of her mouth.
At that moment, he simply did not exist to her. He was like a void. The stranger was still reading the chauvinistic men’s magazine and looking at pictures of half-naked women. It was too much. He could not stand the public insult.
“A small rehearsal before the premiere on our centrefold?” He asked bluntly, drawing on the syllables of the last word.
Silence again. A missed point for the third time. He decided to bring out the heaviest cannon.
“What spruce for adult boys did you miss?”
The boys liked his question. Boorish laughter filled the main room of the editorial meetings. However, the stranger still kept a cool head.
“Sorry?” She asked stoically. “Did you ask me something?”
She looked menacingly from the magazine she was still holding in front of her.
A wave of total irritation, but also helplessness flooded him. ‘She is so pretty! Actually, no. She isn’t pretty.’ He thought. ‘She is wonderful!’
Wonderful, yes she is wonderful, but... a total empty ‘cinder block’.
In his head, he searched for a raft or a lifeline of some sorts, something like a phone call to a friend regarding what to talk to her about. How to start a full-fledged dialogue? He smiled at the thought, because how could you make such good conversation with a… ‘cinder block’?
He had to admit that she was someone who could certainly be labeled as a ‘Nicolas chick’ who has never hidden his weakness for young, beautiful women. Except that the chief editor was rather fond of those who were intelligent, brilliant, and devoid of brain disease, known as ‘single-loneliness’.
Is he meeting her on the side? It would only be an event. He had known Nicolas for years and he could suspect him of absolutely anything, but not of treason. Who is she? What is she looking for here?
In addition, she was wearing clothes worth a dozen or so thousand... And suddenly came an enlightenment. He remembered the time when, during the last meeting, Nicolas told him about starting student internships at the editorial office.
‘So, she is a student.’
Only that this beauty didn’t look like a student at all. He looked her up again, mowing from head to toe, and again. She was definitely too good looking to have anything in her mind. Maybe she is a student, but from one of those rich houses.
“Lara Croft doesn't stand a chance!” Thomas blurted out, staring at the stranger like a hungry vampire in a shoulder and neck store. Until now, he was delighted only with technical and electronic novelties, the top-class equipment.
“What is wrong with him?” Alex assessed the condition of his colleague. “He can’t take his eyes off her! Damn it! Now he'll start writing about women.”
“Is that bad?” Michael asked.
Instead of answering, Alex looked silly. Even though he was surrounded by beautiful women everyday, he didn’t seem to notice the stranger.
“I didn't say that. Maybe that would increase sales!” He gasped, knowing that with this statement he was kicking his friend Michael, but to his amazement, the poor sale of the magazine didn’t interest him at the moment.
“With those long legs, shapely ass and pretty face, this doll is only good for pole dancing in a nightclub!” Michael whispered to Thomas sitting next to him, so that the stranger would also hear this opinion. If the comment did not make the slightest impression on her, his theory of it being ‘just a beautiful but completely empty body’ would be confirmed.
Immediately, the boys caught the thought, and this time, only under their noses, they began to speculate as to why and for what this chick was waiting for. Busy with conversations about erotic pole dancing, porn magazines, spreads, nightclubs and playing bridge, they didn't even notice when their chief editor entered the editorial office. He must have listened to their passionate discussion and crude chuckles for a long time, before his patience finally ran out.
“Gentlemen, do I have to wait for a long time for the honorable editorial team to notice my presence?!” He shouted, clearly irritated. “Shut up and listen!” He roared this time.
They fell silent, surprised by his presence, and even more by his vocal abilities which they didn’t know existed before. Evidently surprised, they waited for further development.
“I am pleased to introduce Alice McNielsen, the new chief editor!” Announced Nicholas with an emphasis on ‘chief editor’.
They didn't know if it was just a stupid joke or a waking nightmare.
“What? Whom?” Asked a surprised Michael. ‘Without warning anyone, Nicolas… It must be a joke! Damn stupid joke! Not funny at all! Maybe it's April Fool's Day?’ He wondered.
“Thomas, what day is today?” He asked, this time discreetly, while sitting next to his friend.
“What do you mean?” The surprised one said. “You do not know?”
Michael shrugged. However, there was no answer, so he repeated the question.
“Date! Today!” He shouted directly into the ear of his friend.
“March 17th!”
‘Falling out! So what's going on here?’ Michael was really confused.
“Alex! Friend! Pinch me!” He turned to his friend sitting on the other side. The latter reacted quickly and kicked him well in the ankle.
Michael groaned, his face contorted with a terrible scowl of pain. What he heard was not a nightmare after all… It was reality!
“Today Alice will be in my office. Have a nice day, ladies and gentlemen!” Nicolas informed everyone mockingly and escorted Alice towards his office.Michael's eyes darkened. He could feel the blood rushing to his head and turning red with anger as he clenched his fists. He abruptly got up from his chair and walked fast towards Nicolas office. Then he felt a kick again on the same ankle and he crouched down in pain. He surreptitiously began massaging his ankle, before properly tying his shoelaces.At this moment, it dawned on him that he was acting quite hasty in his actions. He didn’t really have anything, a leverage of sorts, to present himself with in front of Nicolas. If he had entered his office and tried to fight for the promotion, which he had already decided was his, he might have turned out to be on the losing end.How is that? After all, it was he who was to become the deputy in chief! He had even adapted to his new office. Taking int
Finally, Thomas Evans, writing about technological and automotive news, charmed by the extraordinary beauty of the new chief editor, got the courage to go to Nicolas’ office and discuss his just finished text about the latest model of the jaguar entering the market.Thomas, upon entering the office, flashed his snow white teeth at the rest of them.The editorial ‘technologist’ was aware of his high ‘market value’ as they used to say in the male society. A large list of material goods, quite a good position in the social elite and a sensational appearance despite the approaching forties made Thomas feel like a chosen one.He was one hundred percent sure that he would be the one who would be given a public appearance at some top venue in the company of an attractive new chief editor. Anyway, the bets have already been placed on it.He entered Nicolas’ office in a great mood. Alice was beaming behind the editor's computer.
The answer surprised an already confused Michael. He knew that his friend was of the type ‘Obligatory until it matters’. He thought, however, that while he was sitting for hours in his newsroom, he must have been surfing on cyberspace, playing stupid games on the Internet and constantly chatting with friends, and that he worked at the last moment, just before the issue of the new number of the magazine was closed.More than once, Michael had seen him chatting with friends; playing online or browsing various websites, watching movies, listening to music… It was only now that he realized that he had never seen him working.“I have just finished!” Proudly announced Simon, their photo editor and journalist in one person, also editorial mocker and court jester. "This is... I mean... I finished this morning!" He added after a moment, seeing the fury on Michael's face.The others started muttering under their breaths that if they sat down
‘Stupid, mean witch!’ Michael repeated in his mind, absolutely enraged. ‘Arrogant, saucy witch! How can I know the topics of my next three columns when I don't even have good stuff for the next one. How the hell do I know what's going to happen tomorrow? How can you even know the subject of your column before it is written?’ He wondered.‘Where did they teach her the principles of journalism? Probably nowhere! She ran over the nape of some well set guy, landed in his bed, and accidentally became chief editor, and now pretends to be highly educated in the field. Witch!’ He was sure she just pretended to be very knowledgeable.‘She has no idea about their hard work, about writing good texts, and she dare to put up yet! And she called herself wise! ‘Will we see if Nicolas will let her write the leading article?’Outraged by the chief editor's tone, he left slamming the door, which upset Alice even more.A
They waited with bated breath for the further development of events. The chauffeur walked slowly around the car, before he courteously opened the back door. Then their new boss appeared before him.They couldn't believe their eyes. An uncomfortable silence descended in the crowded room. None of them was able to comment on this. They thought that it was just their hallucination, the result of an overdose of percentages and a hangover from the last day’s party.How can the new boss afford a jaguar and a chauffeur? What was up? So many questions were stuck in their heads.They suspected that it was Nicolas' trick, who was unable to grasp the mess that had prevailed in the editorial office since the chief assistant had left the competition. They knew that he wanted to teach them a lesson but who was Alice? In addition, this luxury Jaguar haunted them.The next day, Alice was the first to come to the editorial office. It would not be surprising, if not f
“Thank you, gentlemen, for honouring me with your presence! We're starting!” She paused for a moment to give them time to think and analyze the meaning of the words she had spoken.There was no sign of reflection on the tired, sleepy faces. Thomas was yawning incessantly, every now and then covering his mouth with his hand.Michael, with almost navy blue horseshoes under his eyes and mournfully tousled hair, stretched all his muscles, disregarding everyone, especially the limits of decency, as if he had just woken up.Jack was sitting in a rumpled shirt, propping his head with his hands as if it weighed a ton. He tried his best to stay awake, but he kept closing his eyes every now and then, then shaking his head, straightening himself up and trying to keep his posture attentive again.Simon’s eyes were so red and swollen almost halfway down his cheeks that he looked like a panda or as if he had a boxing match the previous night with a he
Around one in the afternoon, the atmosphere turned hot again. Thomas returned to the editorial office with a flushed face and cloudy eyes. As if in a hypnotic trance, he took off his jacket, tossed it casually on the back of his chair, sat down at the computer and began typing.He didn’t take his eyes off the monitor. He looked like a mad scientist making a discovery of life that would revolutionize the views of all mankind.His friends tried to ask him about his impressions of the ride, but to no avail. He didn't answer. He didn’t even react to the taunts. The outside world did not exist for him. He was in another dimension, in a creative trance.After an hour, unusually beaming and still flushed, he got up from his desk and went to Nicolas' office. He only managed to close the door behind him, and Michael immediately appeared in front of them. Ignoring anyone, he tried to eavesdrop, but from what he heard, he understood very little.Concepts
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.