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blaming me next time for the good one getting away..." she sipped her coffee "I don't suppose you hear the horn honking loud outside, do you?"

"Jacques!" Danni dropped the mug frenetically "I called him to pick me up."

"And I am surprised he came considering your record of being so punctual." Shelly said with sarcasm receiving Danni's smile.

"Old, lonely hag." Danni jibed running out of the kitchen. Shelly gasped "I am so coming after you to make you eat back your words!" she dropped her coffee in pursuit of her, but she was already in Jacques' cab when she got out. She waved at them laughing "I'll get you!" she yelled at her.

Shelly went back into her house, on walking to the kitchen, she spotted her laptop on the center table of the hall. She moved to it, picked it up onto her lap, switched it on and launched Word.

Last night, as she tossed and turned in bed, a story came to her. She began chapter one thinking the new story was going to be her major come-back after five years of being out of the writing scene.

She'd bet people would rush for the story as though it was a magazine revealing a celeb topless.

 

* * * * *

"Today is my first day at work, you know?" Danielle asked rhetorically trying to make small talk with Jacques, who seemed to be in a foul mood today.Like the good friend she was (mainly because she didn't want to pay for his services), she was going to try cheering him up.

"Hmm..." he murmured in response keeping his eyes on the road.

"And you know I am now a Newchic, don't you?"

"Hmm..."

"I have three pages in the Love and Lust column, you know?"

"Hmm..."

"C'mon Jacques," Danielle had had enough "haven't you realized you've been hmm-ing..." she checked her watch "For the past two minutes. I know you are upset, but people have gone through worst things, yet still, they do not lose their ability to speak."

"I am not upset, okay," he banged the steering wheel continuously in rage "I am furious!"

O-kay, that was scary.

"What is it?" she asked with concern, arching her chestnut brows.

"Shelly." He replied brusquely.

"Shelly?"

"You know, all these years I've had a thing for her, we finally have a thing, she breaks up with me the next day after having the thing. Then years later, which happens to be today- this morning, she waves at me for the first time after all those years of drawing apart, absolutely no communication as though I was some... thing." He blustered.

"And that's reason to be angry?" Danielle chuckled with disbelief "She waved at you after two years of no communication and you are... what's the word you used?"

"Furious."

"Furious?!" Danni spoke angrily "You want real reason to be furious? I will give you one. How about dating this guy for two years, and three weeks to your wedding, he gives you the heave-ho?"

Jacques went extremely shocked "Hollywood Bad Boy broke up with you.""You know, I've warned you a million times not to call him that, but I do not care anymore, he is the Hollywood Bad Boy. The guy that walks into a commoner's life and shatters her heart apart."

"You win," Jacques admitted taking his eyes off the road for the first time "he's a jerk," he said comfortingly "he doesn't know what he is missing."

"I can give you his number so you tell that to him."

"But I am going to prove to you, I have more reason to be furious," he paused turning right onto East Cabrillo Boulevard "I've had a crush on her the first day I met her. That was years ago, before she got married. After her husband died, I waited eight years for her to finally recognize me. We go out on our first date, our second, sex after that, the next morning she calls me and tells me she can't continue with the relationship again, finalizing with the 'It's not me, it's you' speech. Did you hear me? She said, 'it's NOT ME, it's YOU.' How am I supposed to feel?"

"Awful." Danielle answered sadly in thought "But awful isn't close to furious. All those times we were dating, the whole year of e-dating and the other of physical contact, all he wanted was to have sex with me. I feel... used!"

"Used?" Jacques disagreed "She dumped me a day after we did the deed, if there's anyone supposed to feel used, I should be the one."

"Right." Danni agreed "It's a draw. But had he never loved me all those years? Was I confusing love with lust, 'cause now that's what I am thinking, He 'lusted' me. He never loved me."

"She used me for sex and dumped me, what other reason than lust? You were lucky enough that you had two years with him. Some of us didn't last two days."

"Two years of pretension, two years of hell!"

"Aaaaaargh!!!" Danni watched in bewilderment as Jacques screamed out of the window.

"What was that?" Danni inquired in puzzlement.

She had one weird French friend. He didn't have an accent, she didn't know his surname and he screamed out of cars! Too!The only proof she had was the rod he had always belabored about, which she'd never seen but believed.

No way she was playing, Seeing is Believing with such a topic.

"I feel good." He nodded with satisfaction "That was anger management therapy," he explained at her confusion "I read somewhere screaming takes it all away like Botox does signs of ageing."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, try it." Danielle shook her head, "No, I won't do that." She stated with a firm nod "I will leave that for the cabbies. Ladies, do not scream out of cabs like that-"

"Just do it already!"

"Aaaargh!" Danni imitated him "Aaaaaaargh!" but louder "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!!!!" and longer. She came back into the car when her throat began to hurt. She tried not to look out the window to avoid stares of people moving by in their cars.

After seconds, he asked "Now how do you feel?"Danni sighed 'Weird."

Jacques nodded "Now that's the only therapy that's going to leave you feeling weird. And weird is good."

"Uh, yeah... I guess."

 

Danielle smiled nervously at everyone in the elevator riding with her, mostly women and a few men. She hated riding in stuffed elevators. All the heavy perfume and the sweaty armpits never gelled for her. But in this, she felt out of place.All the women looked like they waited for Vogue to dictate their wardrobe every month, and all the men looked Ralph Lauren-ish in their jackets and Polo tees and jeans.As the elevator moved to her destination, she thought of how Newchic would look like, classy and chic or raw but spacious. Either way, she was looking forward to her first day at work-in NEWCHIC... yay! She deaserved a cheer for that.

She finger-combed the edges of her chin-length chest-nut hair, waiting in anticipation with the others "It's my first day on the job." She tried to initiate small-talk with a woman who looked super-busy, wearing an ash blazer over a white tank with a pencil skirt and holding a huge file stashed with lots of A4-sized papers.

Before she could receive a reply, the elevator doors slid open and the woman with all the others stormed out quickly, leaving her bewildered at their haste. 

 Her first step in Newchic had her gaping in surprise. She couldn't believe her eyes watching in awe the state-of-the-art working environment.

( Elie Ghoulding-Lights)

The hall that led to the main entrance was something like the cafeteria. Painted woody brown with folding chairs set around tables, and a huge buffet table which at the moment had nothing on it. A few people got together for a chat in groups, their outfits stunning and the atmosphere laced with laughter and chinking of glasses like some high society party.

She couldn't help but listen in on some of the conversations walking towards the French doors of the main entrance. Pushing through the glass paneled doors with Newchic spelt out in lime in a stylish uppercase typeface, she met the receptionist's desk which was round, huge and purple. This hall compared to the cafeteria was quiet, except for the professionally rehearsed voices of chic receptionists taking calls.Danielle was amazed at the array of colours the decorator had employed. The four walls had lime, orange, turquoise and yellow-one on each. She glanced at the walls, seeing digital screens of Newchic 2o11 covers displaying the headlines of the issues they bore.

She grinned at the Adele cover which marked her debut in Newchic. Blushing on reading one of the cover stories:

FIVE SCENTS HE'S NOT INTO YOU ANYMORE.

That had been the theme line of her article, SNIFFING HIS UNDERWEAR, which had five scents women could smell on their guy's underwear to tell if he was cheating. Weird but true.

She did her mojo-walk on the excitement seeing her article had given her. Heading for the receptionist desk, savoring in the rush of adrenalin that laced her blood.

"Hello, how may I help you?" the receptionist she approached, a dark-skinned woman with a Natalie Portman cut, wearing an animal print blouse and some short blue chiffon tier skirt, asked with a wide smile.

"Danielle Longhorne." Danielle offered her name. Before she could speak-

"Ohmigod!" the lady gasped, turning to her four co-workers "She's the Danielle."

"The Danielle?" the others rushed to where she stood frantically.

The Danielle? Was she missing something here, or she wasn't the same girl whose celeb fiancé ditched her because she was a virgin?"We loved Sniffing His Underwear!" the girls crooned like a bunch of teens drooling over a photo of their favorite Hollywood Hunk.

Apparently, she was their Justin Beiber (that is, for all those who considered the popstar, a hunk).

"I so thought my guy was cheating," a light blonde spoke "I always smelt Coco Chanel on his underwear, but I thought it was one of his primping secrets, like the other day, I caught him applying my Clinique Clarifying lotion. It turned out, he was having a double affair." She nodded firmly in conclusion at Danielle's feigned surprised expression.

"And funny thing is," a dark brunette who had rather a lot of make-up applied over her olive skin spoke "they are still together."...

 

"Hey," the blonde scowled at her "you cannot share my relationship secrets to a stranger-no offense." she turned sharply to Danielle to clarify "Think me a whole lot of shit, but he's been my boyfriend since College and guys with teeny-weenies like his, do not walk on streets."

Danielle giggled with the others. She knew these blonde types. The Stupidly Blondes.

"Isabel Burton's waiting at the Writer's Lounge." The dark-skinned girl, who had introduced herself as Rhonda, informed.

"Writer's Lounge? Isabel Burton?" Danielle asked in confusion.

Kyle, Stupidly Blonde said, shaking her head "First days." She said with a tone of sympathy "It took me a whole month to get accustomed to the Newchic terms."

"Only difference is, she is a fast learner, and you are... the blonde." The brunette said offensively to Kyle.

"Someone hold my hands, 'cause I am about to rub the excess blush off her face." Kyle threatened.

"Writer's Lounge is just a hall away," Rhonda directed, pointing a round doorway with glass paneled doors.

"Thanks." Danielle smiled gratefully at all five, heading for the entrance.

Walking through the wide circumference of the door-way, she spotted ahead a busy hall. It was gigantic than the others with cubicles of lime, orange, turquoise and yellow arranged in rows. The walls were white and a huge plasma screen, Danielle thought was for announcement, faced everyone. The hall was divided into columns representing each corner of the magazine. Danielle read the tags to the columns heading for the Love and Lust corner, moving through the cubicles and an atmosphere of hubbub with people moving from cubicle to cubicle like a form of social call, the noise of typing keyboards all around.

"Hello." She smiled, greeting on reaching the L&L corner, a girl who had a nerdy look going on for her, deeply occupied in her job.

The girl looked up with a scowl for the distraction "Couldn't you find anyone else

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