Guyysss, it's me...yes, I've come back from the dead, loljk. I've had terrible writer's block, 2 bfs to tend to, a gf to be with n a job and tons of other stuff. Anyways, enjoy. Flashbacks in italics.


"McClair's on line 1 for you," Katie informs her sister, boss.

The redhead just nods and picks up the phone. What the fuck does he want now? Frederick McClair - current president of Big Time aka "the funsponge" - is a fucking idiot if you ask Emily. He inherited the company from his dad who died a few years back, spends all his time sleeping around and neglecting the business. If there was one smart move he made, it was hiring the talented redhead to become managing director and do all the work for him.

"Morning sir, how's Italy?" Emily greets her boss - who is probably in some random's bed right now - pleasantly, using the tone she's managed to perfect over the few months she's been working here; in other words, completely fake.

"Skip the chit chat today okay? I know you're after Jones' position," Emily can't help but rolls her eyes at this. Gee, so does the rest of this fucking company, "seal the 'S' deal and consider it yours." And with that, he hung up. The 's' deal was the codename he'd given to the movie deal Emily's been working relentlessly on for months. Apparently they aren't the only ones planning to make a film out of the international best-seller by someone who doesn't even write under their real name. But that's probably the last thing on her mind right now, she wants this promotion. Bad. Getting rid of McClair is the easy part, but making sure that she'd be the one to replace him after, that's the hard part. And now all it takes is one good meeting. Piece of cake.


"Ow, my head," Naomi cringes, her eyes still clamped shut, thanks to the hangover the night before. She'd gone out yet again to that club in an attempt to find a certain redhead, but no luck. She still has something very important to her, but that's not the only reason why she's been looking for the redhead. Truth was, Naomi just couldn't seem to get the girl out of her head, and she's starting to become obsessed.

##########

"Come dance with me," The girl practically shouted in her ear, already grabbing hold of her hand, leading her onto the crowded dance floor.

The music was obviously loud and upbeat, something that Naomi usually hated, but she didn't seem to care. The dark lighting made it hard for her to see her dance partner clearly, but who the fuck cared? She smelled intoxicating, possibly Chanel, but even if it is, it sure smells better on her than anyone else.

No more than 2 minutes later they found themselves grinding together, enraptured in each other rather than the music booming around them. The taller girl's arms held Emily close and tight, the redhead's circled around Naomi's neck. The electricity between them was fizzing and exploding uncontrollably, and soon enough, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

##########

"Here blondie," Cook laughs, placing a cup of steaming hot espresso on the bedside table, "I'm guessing no luck then?"

"What the fuck you on about Cook? Too early for being enigmatic yeah?" The blonde frowns slightly, slowly opening her eyes and letting them adjust to the morning light.

"I've known you since college babes, and you know full well what I'm talking about. Red hair, nice arse, probably nice tits as well?" Naomi shakes her head. "Emily?" He persists.

The blonde shrugs, changing the subject, "What time is it? I've got some meeting today about the book." She asks, taking a sip of coffee.

"It's 9 o'clock, and you still haven't paid me for stealing my life story."

"Fuck!" Naomi instantly springs from the bed and hurries to get dressed. The meeting place is half an hour from her apartment, and it's at 9:15. "Cook, I'm going to need the Ferrari back for today yeah," She says, grabbing the keys to the car she'd given him after it was given to her by the publisher and was out the door before he could even get a word in.


"Apparently miss Noir's going to be a little late I'm afraid," Jared Brown, the publishing executive informs her apologetically.

"No problem Mr. Brown," Emily says with a smile, even though her blood's boiling inside. She hates having to wait, it's as if her life was momentarily put on hold and there's nothing she could do about it.

Finally, finally the mysterious author arrives, fashionably 15 minutes late. About fucking time.

"Hello, I believe you're Alice Noir? I'm Emily Fitch, managing director," The blonde looks up, and Emily's taken aback by the clear blue color of her eyes, and for a tiny moment, she feels the slightest hint of Deja Vu. It passes by quickly though, so quickly that she's not sure if it was even there in the first place. Strange, unexplainable phenomenons aside, this girl is gorgeous. Everything from her peroxide blonde hair to her slender body to her legs that seem to go on for weeks. She was hot.

The other girl looks dazed for a few seconds, as if she were looking at an alien rather than someone she's going to do business with.

"Um, hi," The corner of her mouth slowly curve upwards into a brilliant smile, shaking Emily's hand.

"Great, shall we go in?" Jared breaks the silence, motioning towards the meeting room.

#########

The redhead's eyes were feverishly bright, a lustrous amber burning with raw desire and an undeniable wanting. Naomi's pulse hammered in a disjointed rhythm, the girl's gaze stealing her breath. The air, so charged with a thousand sparks, drew them closer and closer to each other until every inch of her burning, yearning skin was up against the redhead's. Two willing victims, driven by a hunger that seemingly cannot be satisfied. If this were anybody but them, their impassioned embrace would take them deeper, ever deeper, into a bed of twisted sheets, entangled limbs, and muted moans of arousal; exchanging touch for touch, fingers cascading over each other's bodies and they'd fall helplessly into the depths of the mystery of their newly found desire. But this was them, and they both weren't quite ready to give in to that just yet.

##########

"We really don't want to create friction between the actors and Paul here so-"

"Nothing wrong with a little friction," Naomi interjects, smirking slightly at Emily.

"Ok then, we're going to give Ed a call this afternoon," The redhead nods, writing down into her notebook.

"Is that everything?"

"Yes, miss Noir, filming will begin as soon as we have the cast assembled," Emily smiles, standing up.

Immediately after the meeting, the twin goes to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face, that writer just kept shooting looks and blatantly flirting with her all throughout the meeting. The bad thing about that is, she'd enjoyed it a lot more than she should have. Speak of the devil.

"Hi," Naomi grins to Emily's reflection, "I've been looking for you."

"Um...was there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

"Drop the act, nobody's here."

"Excuse me?"

"You really don't remember me?" The blonde asks incredulously.

"We've just met miss Noir." Emily says slowly.

The taller girl doesn't speak for a few moments, as if wondering what to say. "Of course, must be my mistake then."

###########

"Can I say something personal Naomi?" Emily asks, breaking the silence that's filled the car's atmosphere

"Of course."

"Your shirt smells like a dead guy," The redhead points to her vomit stained shirt.

"Don't worry about it, this isn't even mine, it's a friend's"

"Sorry but it has to go, this is my friend's car and-"

"You're asking me to take off my shirt?"

"Yes, and if you don't take it off, I will."

"Okay then, you're the boss, but seeing as how it's partly your fault, you'll dry clean this for me."

"Done."


idk bout this chapter, not really happy with it tbh...like, at all