Chapter 1
It was one of those mornings.
"Chloe! I don't think I could go all the way there. It's right across town!"
It came out a little louder than she meant. A few people in the coffee queue turned to stare at the tiny brunette who was surrounded by bags and a pet carrier. A cat inside that pet carrier was mewling piteously. Beca Mitchell squashed her phone in between her ear and shoulder, pulled her bag higher up her shoulder and stared back unapologetic.
Chloe was still squawking at the end of the line and Beca Mitchell rubbed her temples. She loved her best friend and room mate but right at this moment, she felt like strangling her. "I know. I know I promised but Snowball's vet appointment ran late," Beca said, in a slightly lower tone. "And this was before I got that Mick Jagger interview. Chloe, it's Mick Jagger!"
The queue shuffled forward and Beca edged the pet carrier forward slowly with her foot. Snowball was not amused.
"Ok! Ok! I'll work something out. You owe me, Red!" Beca whispered-yelled, admitting defeat. She crossly cut the call but she could not help smiling at the squeal of happiness at the end of the line. Beca tossed the phone into her enormous bag and walked up to the counter.
"The usual, Adam," she said to the barista. "No. Make it a large one with an extra shot. Something tells me I am going to need it."
"One of those mornings, huh?" Adam said, sympathetically.
Beca sighed and nodded, handing over the money for the frappe and adding a dollar note into the tip jar. She shuffled down to the waiting area, wondering how did the morning turned out so badly. She had everything planned to a T. Then vet had to run late, then she remembered she promised Chloe she would run an errand and of course, right at that moment, Mick's people called to say could she come earlier because Mr. Jagger was free and if she could not come now, it would be too bad since he would only be available sometime next year.
Now she was trying to juggle her appointments at opposite ends of town, laden with bags and having to sneak into work with a cat. Somehow when she was dreaming about her ideal job as a music journalist, this was not how she pictured it.
Beca glanced at her watch and cursed under her breath. She was running more than a little late now. Beca grabbed the frappe as son as it was placed in front of her and rushed towards the door. She was just about to push the door open when her phone rang shrilly. Beca shifted the pet carrier, her bags and coffee to one hand whilst the other rooted round her enormous bag for her phone.
It was her editor.
"Noah."
"Where are you, Beca?"
"Umm..just on my way. Cat emergency."
"Get your ass over to West 57th immediately. We've got to rush a story."
"But I got an interview with Mick Ja..."
"This is more important! Bieber's sporting a new platinum look and I want you there now."
"What? You are not serious?" Beca nearly yelled out as she pushed through the door and propelled out of the shop. "You want me to drop Mick over...oh what the...Oh fuck!"
That stupid man walked straight into her.
Straight into her and her enormous cup of frappucino.
Which was now flying all over her front.
Snowball was yowling ferociously and Beca dropped her bags, quickly checking the cat was ok. He's ok. The cat was ok. He was probably upset at being jostled by that incredibly stupid man. The coffee cup was rolling drunkenly on the floor and Beca was still cursing as she futilely wiped at the sopping stain on her tshirt.
Great. Just great. Just exactly what she needed right now.
"I am so sorry! You came barreling out; I couldn't avoid you. Here, let me get you more tissues."
Beca was too pissed to answer. The stranger was back in a flash, offering more tissues. She grabbed them and started dabbing on the huge stain. Snowball did not like being unceremoniously dumped onto the floor and was letting his feelings known. Between his yowling and this stickiness that was sopping to her skin, Beca felt murderous.
"Can I get your another coffee?"
Is that man still there? What? Why the hell is he still there? He's done enough damage already.
"That's a nice t-shirt, by the way," he continued.
Beca stopped mopping up the stain, conscious that she was rubbing against the large stain on her chest. Her Sex Pistols tshirt was ruined anyway and he was probably watching her rubbing her breast. That pervert.
"Dude, seriously?"
She glared at the man. He was smiling down at her and then Beca noticed that almost half of that ill-fated frappucino had also slopped down his front and ruined his white shirt and suit. She was about to say something when she heard a tinny voice calling out her name.
"Oh shit!" Beca exclaimed, scrambling round to find her phone. "Noah? Noah! I'm still here."
"What the hell, Becs?" Noah's voice came through.
"Nothing. Just dropped my drink," Beca answered, starting to gather her things. Noah was talking a mile a minute now and Beca was trying to keep up.
"OK. Ok. Give me twenty," Beca answered. The man was helping to hand over the pet carrier as she pulled her bags up. She nodded her thanks briefly already turning away, ear stuck to her phone. "Fine! I'll be there in ten!" Beca said crossly before walking away. The man stood rooted at the spot for a while watching the tiny brunette walked away laden with bags and a pet carrier. Only Snowball turned around for a second, pressing his face against wire and gave a meow in goodbye.
Harris & Harris Building
"Harris & Harris, please hold. Harris & Harris, please hold. Harris & Harris, please hold."
Amy, actress and part time bad receptionist, jabbed the hold button on the last call, adjusted her headset and returned back to one of the blinking buttons.
"CR, you there? So. I told him like, no. No sex unless you shave that man bush. We are talking Amazon rainforest here." Amy paused, listening intently to CR speaking on the other line. The phone deck was blinking crazily but she calmly ignored it all, choosing to draw a nail file from her tall beehive blonde hair and began to file her nails.
"I know. A girl's gotta have standards. Hang on CR..." Amy said, pressing an incoming call. "Harris & Harris, please hold." Without even taking a breath, Amy went back talking to CR. "Eh. The sex was ok. Can hardly find the goods with all that hair downstairs."
The door in front of the Reception desk slid opened and Amy looked up to see Beca Mitchell rushing in, disheveled and sweaty, huge ass coffee stain on her front, bags on one arm and a meowing cat in the other. She was frantically motioning at Amy.
"Hang on, it's the B-meister," Amy said to CR before grinning up at Beca. "Alright, chook, what's happening?"
"No time! Cover me! Noah's heading this way. Say you've seen me ages ago," Beca whisper-yelled before going over to the other side of the desk and crawling underneath. She was tiny enough to tuck herself into the space below. The pet carrier was a little large to pull in so Amy helped by jamming it to one the side. Snowball was not happy and both girls quickly shushed him.
Beca made it just in time.
Noah strode in, looking more harassed than usual. Amy pretended to be occupied writing a message on the notepad in front of her, nodding intently whilst listening to her headset. Noah waved his hands in front of her but Amy ignored him completely, speaking professionally into the headset. "Yes, I will make sure Julia gets the message. 100 bottles at 99. Anything else I could help you with? No? Thank you for calling Harris & Harris."
She finally looked up.
"Yes?"
"Amy, have you seen Beca?"
"Umm no."
Noah cursed a little. "Are you sure? I needed her here like two hours ago."
"Haven't seen her," Amy said, shaking her head spacily. She then yelped a little and winced; probably from a pinch to her leg. "Wait. Umm. She was here...tennnn..(another wince) ty...twenty minutes ago. Said something about going down to Archives."
"Jesus! What is she doing down there?" Noah swore. He started pacing, clearly agitated. "That girl will be the death of me."
A meow went up from under the desk.
"What is that?" Noah. said, stopping in his tracks.
Amy looked up blankly at him. "What is what?"
"That meowing sound? "
"What meowing sound?"
Another meow went up. Beca was looking stricken underneath the desk, praying Snowball would not blow her cover.
"Is there a cat somewhere? I heard a cat."
"Oh. That.," Amy said smoothly. "Ummmm...I'm practising my sounds."
At Noah's blank look, Amy nonchalantly continued. "Got an audition for Cats next week. She cleared her throat loudly and began spitting out a series of yowls and meows. She stopped for a moment and looked at Noah pointedly. "See? Gotta feel the cat, wear the cat, be the cat. Harness my inner pussy."
"Okayyyyyy," Noah said. Amy was screeching louder now and he backed away slowly. "If you see Beca, tell her to find me immediately." He quickly left and once the coast was clear, Amy drew back her chair and Beca folded herself out. Beca's face was red from not laughing.
"Inner pussy?" Beca said, almost choking from not laughing.
"Another one you owe me, short stack," Amy grumbled. "And oww, your pinches hurt."
"Thanks, Amy." Beca said, hugging the blonde girl before straightening up. "I gotta go down and get some new rags. My tshirt's ruined."
"Ok. Say hi to Stacie."
"Can you keep an eye on Snowball?"
"Sure. We can practice our purr-cussion together," Amy said. Beca was not entirely sure what she meant but she knew better than to ask.
"We are still ok for after, Becs?"
"Sure. See you later, Ames."
Beca went clattering out of the door, weighed down with all her bags and caught the elevator going down just in time. Amy went back to her phone call with CR, ignoring the other blinking lights on the console.
"You still there? Yeah, Beca was hiding under the desk again. Mmmhmm. Yep. Nope. Yep. Left Snowball with me." Amy continued to file her nails. "I know. She needs a guy, not a cat. That last one, that fuckface, really messed her up. We need to find a nice guy. A proper one; not some hook up."
Amy stopped filing her nail, listening to CR and sighed. "All the guys I know like to get their freak on, CR. If you want someone who sucks your toes while reciting poetry, I know two."
The other elevator dinged loudly and a moment later, the glass doors slid open.
Amy was still talking on the phone. "I don't know where to find a nice, normal guy. Good guys just don't appear outta nowhere."
At that precise moment, Amy looked up.
"CR, code 408," Amy quickly murmured into the headset. "Umm...oh, about 200. Celsius, not Fahrenheit. Yeah, that hot. Okseeyoulaterbye!"
Amy cut the call as the newcomer approached the desk. She tilted her head to one side, staring.
"Yes?"
"I'm here to see Benjamin Applebaum?"
Hmm. Nice hair, nice eyes, nice smile. Shame about the suit.
"Ok." Amy dialled a number and when the call went through, she whispered, "Benj, honey. There's a yummy lookin' man at the desk asking for you. Are you not telling me things? Oh. 5'10. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Oh. I didn't ask."
Amy looked up at the amused brown eyes and said primly, "Whom shall I say is asking for him?"
"Swanson. Jesse Swanson."
Amy made a discreet note, followed by VLEP while talking softly to Benji, "It's Jesse Swanson. Where have you've been hiding him? He's not your thang? Opps sorry. Come and get him anyway. Before Marc gets here."
Amy cleared her throat and spoke up, "Mr. Applebaum will be up shortly." Her serious and professional demeanour was somewhat marred by a loud meow from under the desk. The man looked a little confused.
"Is that a cat?"
Amy didn't missed a beat. "That's need to know basis. I have to take a photo, please. For... errmm... security purposes."
The man chuckled a little before replying, "Ok. What do I have to do?"
"Just stand there. And look here." She pointed to a webcam. A quick click. "Thank you very much. Now if you take a seat..."
The man turned round to take a seat . Amy quirked an eyebrow.
There was another discreet click.
The Closet
"Here, try this one."
Stacie waved yet another small scrap of cloth at Beca who looked distinctively put out. She had stripped off her stained tshirt and now was in her bra and dark skinny jeans, trying to struggle into a hot pink top Stacie had given her earlier.
"I give up!" Beca huffed. "These things are made for girls without boobs."
She tossed the hot pink top back at Stacie who caught it deftly. Beca looked around the room, trying to find something decent to wear. It was like Aladdin's treasure trove. A fashionista would seriously think she has died and gone to heaven. The room was stuffed with samples, one offs, borrowed clothes for the shoots. Racks of clothes in every shape and colour. Chanel, YSL, Lagerfeld. Walls of Jimmy Choos, Blahniks and Louboutins with matching bags of all colours and sizes. And ruling the roost was one Stacie Conrad, uber fashion editor at RUNWAY, Harris & Harris' flagship fashion magazine.
"Of course, they'll fit," Stacie said, coming over and handing Beca another top. It could only be described as bondage gear. "You are the tiniest person I know." She helped Beca put it on, pulling, pushing and mercilessly squashing Beca into that top, making her yelped a few times, before standing back to survey her handiwork. "There. You look perfect."
Beca was scowling. "Stacie! I looked like I should audition for Fifty shades of Grey!" She consciously crossed her arms over her chest, which was threatening to spill out from the black strappy tight top.
"It's all about the confidence, sweetie," Stacie said placatingly. She stood behind Beca, pulled her hair out of her messy bun and ruffled the locks lightly. "You are rocking the look. Put those arms away." There was several pings on her Mac desktop and Stacie went round the table to check her emails. "So what happened?" Stacie asked casually, as she opened her emails.
"Some idiot walked straight into me. That's all,"Beca said, still looking at her reflection in the mirror and trying to hide more of her cleavage. It was useless. She sighed in defeat. "Idiot ruined my favourite shirt."
"I wish you'll stop wearing those crappy band tshirts and let me dress you properly," Stacie said, her forehead wrinkling slightly. "Girl, you look so hot in a Miu Miu - "
"Nope. Nu-uh," Beca said immediately cutting her off. "I had a whole year of that, remember? Dressed up to the nines while being Cassandra Harris' PA slash bitch. For one whole fucking year. Urgh. And those heels! I think my feet's definitely fractured with all those stupid heels I had to wear. Nope. Not going to happen."
Stacie shrugged, "It was worth it, wasn't? One year being the Harris' bitch and now you are working at Decibel."
"Yeah," Beca conceded, applying a little more eyeliner. She swiped MAC Damn Glamourous red lipstick across her lips. "C Harris is not THAT bad to work with. It was Aubrey that drove me mad. God, she was only 1st assistant but she acted like she was the Editor-in-chief. Ugh. And all that time I had to help mop up her nervous vomit."
Stacie tried not to laugh. She had spent a year listening to Beca Mitchell's increasingly hairy description of that skanky bitch Posen. Stacie had been there and knew what Beca was on about but both of them survived the ordeal and were now where they really wanted to be in that publishing house.
"Decibel's not that bad to work at, right?" Stacie said, referring to the music magazine Beca was at.
"Yeah."
"But?" Stacie ventured, hearing the less than enthusiastic tone in Beca's voice.
Beca was quiet for a moment before answering, "I dunno. Noah's great and all. I'm getting the bylines but hell, Stacie, I had to fight off fangirls this morning, armed with a cat while trying to get a comment from Justin Bieber."
Stacie laughed at the mental image. "Oh babe, you've got to pay your dues."
"I know. I know," Beca groused. She turned to face Stacie, "Umm... not sure whether I should anything. I don't want to jinx it..."
"What?" Stacie said expectantly, pausing from looking at her emails. She took in the look on Beca's face and her mouth dropped open. "Oh my god! You are going out with someone! Are you, Becs? Oh my god! Who is it? How hot is he? I need to tell the girls."
Stacie pulled out her phone and began to furiously type a text.
"Put that thing away, oh my god, Stacie!" Beca bellowed. "I'm not going out with anyone. This hunter is a fuck free zone at the moment."
Stacie stopped typing and stared at Beca disappointedly. "That is the saddest thing anyone can say to me."
Beca tried not to chuckle at the look on Stacie's face. "It's not a man, ok? I'm done with relationships at this point."
"Oh Becs, it's been.. what.. a year? After that fuckface?"
"I don't want to talk about him." Beca said, turning back to the mirror, studying her reflection. Boots. She needed boots with this outfit. Stacie seemed to read her mind and waved her to a pair of black studded strap Manolo Blahnik boots on the shelf. Beca sat down, taking off her Converse and pulled the boots on while Stacie was still clicking through her emails.
"So.. what is it that you wanted to tell me?"
"Hmm?"
"Just now."
"Oh," Beca said, standing up and testing the boots. "Umm.. I've pitched some stories to Rolling Stone. And they seem to like it."
Stacie stopped what she was doing.
"What? Oh my god, Becs! That is fab!" Stacie was jumping up and down in her seat in excitement. She knew that Beca wanted to go across to Rolling Stone since like forever. Beca was trying hard to look nonchalant.
"Don't get too excited. They like the pitch. I still need to deliver," Beca said.
"But Rolling Stone, Becs!" Stacie said, grinning. "We are so celebrating tonight!"
"No. Don't. Nothing's happening yet. Don't get too excited about it." Beca was now gathering her things. "I've gotta go, Stace."
"OK. Those boots look great on you. I am so jealous you are a size 5. I really want those boots," Stacie said, surveying Beca's outfit. "You need a jacket with that though. Try the Valentino on the left."
Beca went to the nearest rack and plucked the black biker leather jacket off the hanger.
"Are you really serious, Becs?" Stacie piped up while Beca tried on the jacket. "Your hunter has been fuck free for a year?"
"Stacieeee!" Beca whined, not wanting to get into THAT discussion. Her friends were way too invested in her love life.
"You should move on from that fuckface, babe. He was not worth it." Stacie said, aware she was touching a raw nerve.
"I've moved on," Beca mumbled.
"Yeah, sure," Stacie said, unconvinced. "There's plenty of good looking men out there, Becs and baby, you'll have no problem attracting those bees to the honeypot."
"All men are dicks." Beca mumbled again. "100% dicks."
"Well, that's the best bit about them," Stacie grinned. A loud ping came through. "Oh, something from Amy." Stacie clicked on the email. "Oh my. Becs, you've GOT to see this."
"I don't really want to see Amy's pictures," Beca said. "The last one she send of double dick dude broke me." Beca shuddered at the mental image. She could never, ever unsee it. She was sure she would need some sort of expensive therapy after seeing that.
"No. No. Some new talent at Reception," Stacie said, concentrating hard at the pics Amy sent through. "Nice ass, too. She marked it VLEP, Becs. You're gonna like that."
Beca scoffed. "Whose meeting?"
"Benji."
"There you go. Probably Benji's thang."
"No. Amy said her gaydar didn't bleep. And Benji said no."
"Eh. Could mean anything." Beca said dismissively. She picked up her bags. "Gotta go."
She picked up her ruined tshirt, ready to stuff it into her bag.
"Leave that," Stacie said, going over and taking the tshirt out of her hand. She held it out by shoulders, looking at it speculatively. "Actually this looks kinda interesting with the stain." Stacie went to the nearest mannequin and tugged the shirt over. "Kind of post industrial, raw punk meets high fashion?"
Beca shook her head at her friend, not understanding a word she said. "Okayyy... leave that with you." Stacie just waved her away as she started to add more pieces of clothing and accessories to the mannequin, now completely absorbed in her work.
Harris & Harris Building, Reception
Jesse Swanson sat down, cooling his heels at Reception. It had been a surreal sort of morning. He had planned to come in early to Harris & Harris and perhaps take her out to breakfast but that coffee accident happened. He had to stop at Barney's and bought another shirt. The old one was a total write off.
His phone beeped.
You here yet?
Jesse smiled and quickly replied back - Yep
Be on your best behaviour.
Jesse chuckled - Don't I always? Sorry I can't take you out for breakfast.
No problem. Busy morning.
See you later?
The reply came a while later. Maybe.
"Who's that dish?"Marc St. James whispered to Amy, checking out the man sitting down at Reception. The lanky personal assistant draped himself on the Reception desk and brushed his already perfectly coiffed hair aside. "He looks delicious."
"Hands off, Marc," Amy said, poking him in the rib. "He's Benji."
"Ugh. Benji? That's boring," Marc pouted. "Are you sure we can't bring him up to MODE? Amanda will eat him alive. Or me. I don't mind sharing."
"Back off, St. James." Amy warned. "Applebaum might look all soft and gooey but you don't want to mess with that boy. He's a magician. He can make you disappear."
Marc was still ogling at the talent on that seat and sighed, "I suppose I better get my ass up to Wilhemina. She's on a warpath about next month's cover. Honestly, that Daniel Mea..."
"Don't mention that name in front of me!"
Marc looked down in surprise at the hard look on Amy's face. She looked like she could break him into two. "Oh right. Beca. That angry alt girl. Sorry." He quickly apologised and stood up. "I'm going to go. There's a new PA starting with Dan... with.. erm.. umm... new PA starting. By the name of Betty Suarez. See you later, Ames."
Marc St. James walked passed that delicious morsel on the seat and gave him his best flirtatious smile. Jesse smiled back, frowning a little before going back to texting on his phone.
"Jesse Swanson?"
Jesse looked up to see an earnest looking man with curly hair, smiling down at him. He stood up quickly.
"Yes. You must be Benjamin Applebaum," he said, offering out his hand.
"Just Benji please." Benji replied, shaking Jesse's hand. He looked over his shoulder. "Thanks Ames! I'll take Room 2. Now, would you follow me please?"
Benji walked deeper into the office, along a corridor with Jesse following behind. He stopped in front of a door and went into the room. The door was closed and then they both stood facing each other, grinning.
"Oh god, Jesse! So good to see you, bro!" Benji said. "It must have been years."
They went into a fist bump and man hug. Jesse was chuckling as he got out of the hug.
"Hey roomie. So Benji then? Not Mr. Applebaum here?"
"Don't be stupid, man. Of course, it's Benji," the other man said, sitting down on the nearest chair. Jesse sat opposite him, still grinning. Benji looked at the file he had with him. "Bro, what are you getting into? I've never seen Mr. Harris Senior so excited."
Jesse smiled depreciatingly. "I know what I'm doing."
Benji was still reading off the file but he nodded. "Yeah. You always seem to have everything together. Right from college." He made a few notes with the fountain pen he took from his inner pocket. "Right. Full works for you, bro, starting from the bottom at the Post Room. You are going to have fun..."
Office of Decibel magazine
"Becaaaa! Get in here."
Beca nearly jumped at the sound of her editor hollering her name down the corridor. Ok. She can do this. Beca straightened up and strode down the corridor, her new boots clicking a staccato on the wooden floor.
"You wanna see me, chief?" she said mildly. Noah Adams was sitting behind his desk, the Book spread out before him. He glanced up and motioned her to come over.
"Where have you been?" Noah said crossly. "You should have been here two hours ago."
"You did send me to cover that Bieber," Beca said equally crossed.
"And where's the piece?" Noah demanded. "That needs to go online pronto. It's all over online. These fangirls are voracious, Becs. We need to be up there, on the front."
"Cool it, will ya?" Beca said. "It's all done. Check your mail."
Noah looked at her doubtfully before swinging his gaze to the numbers on his screen. What he saw made him smile. He smiled even wider at the retweets and size of the hotspots for the click-throughs.
"Good work, Mitchell," Noah said, rubbing his hands in glee. "I knew I could depend on you."
Beca rolled her eyes. "Can I go now? I need to work on that Jagger piece?"
"Yeah. Ok. Get that piece on my desk by c.o.p tomorrow," Noah said, going back to the Book in front of him. Beca got up and walked towards the door. "Oh, Beca?"
She stopped and turned to face Noah. He was still examining one particular page and did not look up. "I wanted to tell you two hours ago.." he began casually. ".. you've been promoted to Music Editor. Congratulations."
Beca just as casually nodded and walked out of the room. She slowly walk to her desk and pocketed her phone, before saying to her nearest colleague, "Hey, Jim. I'm going down for a coffee."
Jim looked up and nodded. Beca quickly walked out with a brief smile. Jim thought he could hear Beca screaming out in glee as soon as she walked out of the door. He shook his head – that could not be true.
Somewhere in the H&H building
"Oh my god, how do you concentrate working here?"
Jesse could not help but ogled at a few models languidly posing at a photo shoot. Another sashayed past him in nothing but her underwear. Jesse gulped a little, looking away. Benji was already hurrying past and Jesse tried to keep up.
"That's the third floor. Most of MODE and RUNWAY are up on the top two floors. Other magazine titles on fourth, fifth and sixth. Staff cafe on first. Your pass is good for everywhere. You'll get your head round the place in no time," Benji droned on as he pressed for the elevator. The elevator arrived and they went inside. Benji pressed a button. "Now Mr. Harris ask to see you soonest after we have lunch. But before that, we have to get you to The Closet."
Jesse raised an eyebrow and Benji had to laugh. "Dude, I'm out of the closet for ages. This is a different thing."
The elevator pinged open and Jesse was again hurrying after Benji. Damn, that boy moved fast. He did not remember Benji being this quick back in college. He turned a corner and walked up to a door. Benji swiped his access card and keyed in his passcode and the door slid open.
"Whoa. This is definitely a closet," Jesse remarked, looking round at the clothes and accessories available in that room.
"Damn, Stacie's not here. She must have popped up for lunch," Benji said, after looking quickly round "Well, I'm sure she won't mind if we borrow a few things. OK, what size are you?"
"What?" Jesse said, confused.
"Need to change that suit. Coffee stains down your trousers, Jesse."
Jesse looked down. He thought his dark suit had hidden the stains well. When he looked up, Benji was already thrusting a dark blue suit at him, with matching shirt and tie. Armani. Nice. Jesse was changing into the new suit when Benji's phone rang.
"Benji here." He listened intently to the phone before rubbing his temples. "Jesus, ok. I'll be up soon. Just make sure they are separated. Blood is impossible to clean off silk carpets."
He ended the call and looked up at Jesse. "Bro, I've got to go head off a crisis. Are you OK to go for lunch on your own? I'll meet you back at Reception in an hour."
"Yeah, sure."
Benji left him still trying to put on his tie. The Closet was massive and Jesse looked round trying to work his head round the amount of stuff in that room. His attention was caught by a tshirt on a mannequin. A Sex Pistols tshirt with what looked like a coffee stain on a mannequin, now pinned and tucked and sleeves artfully ripped, with what looked like a leather short skirt with chains.
Jesse frowned a little.
That was a bizarre coincidence.
Ok.
He quickly sent a text . Lunch?
No. W is being a bitch.
Jesse smiled. You're a bigger one. Get in there.
Thank you.
He slid the phone back into his pocket. The suit fitted like a dream. Jesse went up the elevator and got off on what he thought was the ground floor, except it opened out to a corridor. He got out, a little puzzled and walked down the corridor. Did him and Benji walk down this way?
He was trying to remember the way back to Reception. Maybe that blonde Aussie receptionist could help. He was already hopelessly lost. Jesse backtracked a little.
Ok. That way was to the photo studios on the third. Surely this way was to Reception?
He turned round sharply.
And walked straight into another cup of coffee.
He yelped. That coffee was hot.
But his yelp was drowned by the voracious swearing coming from the other person. Jesse stood stock still, too surprised to feel the liquid seeping into his new shirt. A tiny brunette was in front of him, swearing to high heaven, desperately trying to wipe down her black leather jacket with her hands.
It was the same brunette.
The same tiny, cute brunette he walked into this morning.
She was cursing like a sailor and Jesse had to chuckle at how angry she was. He shouldn't but it was just too cute seeing such a small person so angry. Then she raised her baby blues to glare at him and Jesse quickly shut his mouth.
"What the fuck? You!"
It was spat out with such vehemence that Jesse immediately thought of protecting his balls. And his throat. Just in case.
"Urm.. yeah. Sorry?"
She threw him a look of such loathing that Jesse stepped back. He patted his pockets, futilely trying to find a napkin or handkerchief to help. She was already taking off her jacket, shaking it violently to get rid of the coffee.
"Stacie is going to KILL me," the little brunette was swearing now. "Do you understand what you have done? This is a Valentino, for fuck's sake. You don't pour coffee on a Valentino!"
Jesse did not hear a word.
Because he was too busy staring.
At that top. That rack. That pale skin.
"Oh my god! You are an idiot," the lady seemed to be saying. Jesse was too fixated on her plump red lips to hear properly. She wasn't wearing that shade lipstick when he bumped into her this morning. Nor that tight top. And her hair was different. And she had a cat?
But it was the same girl. He was sure of that. No one swore that much.
She was huffing loudly now, still angry. Jesse didn't mind. She can be angry all she want. Just as long as he could stand there, staring at her.
"Just get out of my way."
She brushed past him angrily and Jesse stepped aside to let her through. He was still staring. She walked away, brown hair swinging, perfect ass in tight jeans, her high heeled boots clicking. Jesse sighed seeing that flower tattoo on her shoulder, barely covered by the straps on her top.
"Wow."
AN : I know. I know. What am I doing starting a new story? I am a bad person. OK, I'm sure it's obvs but this one is set in a publishing house, Harris & Harris. H&H (for short) owns several magazines - MODE, Runway, Decibel and other titles. Most of the Bellas and Trebles work there in one capacity or another. It's not really a mash-up of Ugly Betty and The Devil Wears Prada; although some of the characters in the other stories will pop round to say a few lines.
Aaaannnd there is a reason why this story is rated M :)
Anyone wanted to hazard a guess what Code 408 and VLEP stand for?