Dear Readers, That's the end of the story. There will be a sequel, one day. Thank you All for reading.
Mousse de champignons aux truffes, roasted turkey, gratin Spanish artichokes and for dessert, a chocolate cake and homemade vanilla cream. ‘Delicious menu!’ He thought.She should be thrilled. Like him, she could discuss with undisguised enthusiasm and a real passion about the richness of Mediterranean flavors and the smell of freshly chopped basil, green parsley, coriander or tarragon...‘I must have gone overboard with the truffles!’ He thought as he looked at the mushroom mousse garnished with thin slices of the truffles; in fact there were even more truffles hidden in the thick mousse. He loved the taste of it; she too, and he knew it perfectly well.He hurried into the living room, which was filled with the airy scent of sandalwood incense and lavender. Once again, he arranged the colourful anemones, her favourite flowers, in a vase. Looking at them, he decided that he had taken the very easy way.He should have in
Michael was sure that he would soon be in charge of the editorial office. He got used to making all the important decisions for the magazine. He worked in it from the beginning of its existence and he knew about every stage of creating individual columns from the inside out.The bitter irony of fate!The most important fact was that he was a respected journalist, but she wasn’t one. He was ‘the best of the best’. And he lost to a woman.In addition, he died in a fight with a woman from nowhere. Nobody in the industry had ever heard of her, nobody knew where she had worked before. That was a typical information black hole.He had to admit in spirit that she had enormous knowledge and experience. Where and when she got them, neither he nor any of his friends knew, except for Nicolas, who swallowed the bitter pill and reluctantly entered into discussions about her. He only mysteriously said that she was ‘the best of the best in the bu
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,
“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