Chapter 3

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!