Musings of a Gossip Queen: A Chick-Lit Comedy Page 5

  He looks at me thoughtfully before scratching his scruffy face and nodding. “Well, good job, kid. You’re really outdoing yourself on your first week here. Have fun at the party and be sure to get something good. I've heard a lot of things in the rumor mill about that party,” he finally says.

  “Yes, sir. I told Madison I'd Snapchat what was going on since she claimed she needed video proof.”

  “That girl can be such a pain in the ass at times,” Gary mumbles.

  I snicker. I haven't even been here a week and I agree. “I have no problem doing it though. I'm sure it'll be fun and we’ll have video for the website if something happens.”

  “That's true,” he says, pushing off the table. “Well, good work, kid.” He suddenly stopped and turned back to me. “Any word back from the publicist about the interview?”

  “Yes. I forwarded their response to your email for you to either accept, reject, or counter the amount they’re asking for,” I reply.

  He nods. “Then I’ll go handle that right now. Keep up the good work, Spencer,” Gary calls over his shoulder as he gives me a thumbs up. When he steps away, Madicunt is in my line of sight, glaring at me before storming off.

  “What is that woman’s problem? I haven't even been here a week and she treats me like I killed her parents,” I say to Shayla.

  “I told you the other day,” she says, never taking her eyes off her computer. “You're a threat.”

  “I’m just doing my job! I mean is she dating Silas or something? It’s not like I talk to him a lot anyway,” I ask, actually wanting to know if they’re dating. I can be a true asshole and attempt to kiss him tonight and blame it on the alcohol if they are dating, but I’m not like her. Being spiteful is too much work.

  “No, they aren’t, but she's trying to get him to lean her way. She's been trying since he joined us four years ago.”

  I slump down in my chair and spin around a couple of times. “She should get over herself. No one likes a complete bitch.”

  “I wouldn't worry about her. I'd just worry about your hot date with Silas tonight. What are you going to wear?”

  Date? Nah. I wish though.

  “It's not a date,” I argue.

  “Then why are you blushing?” she asks and smirks.

  I wave her off and focus on my own computer screen. “I have no idea what you're talking about.

  1:45 p.m.

  Break room

  As I’m in the break room pouring a cup of coffee, Silas walks in. He walks over to where I’m standing and reaches for the cabinet above my head for a mug.

  Damn it to hell. He smells amazing.

  “What kind of cologne is that?” I ask, trying to make conversation.

  He pauses in his reaching and glances down at me before grabbing a mug and closing the cabinet.

  “Herban Cowboy,” he answers, pouring coffee in his mug and drinking it.

  I cringe. “You don't like anything in your coffee?”

  “Not when I'm at work. I prefer to use my own things at home. See ya later,” he says. I have to think quickly; he’s leaving!

  “Oh yeah, I needed to ask you something,” I say, closing the distance between us. He takes a sip from his mug without a word, his intense eyes on me. “My friend and I are taking a limo. I wanted to know if you wanted us to pick you up or—”

  “Nah. I have a way. Thanks for the offer though,” he says with a small smile and walks away. I sigh.

  He’ll be a much tougher nut to crack than I thought.

  3:26 p.m.

  At my desk

  To: Blake Spencer (bspenser@hottopicmag.com)

  From: Gary Coefield (gcoefield@hottopicmag.com)

  Subject: [FW] Interview with Hannah Burgess Proposal from Hot Topic Magazine

  Spencer,

  After careful consideration and looking at the budget. I’ll accept their offer of $55,000. Go ahead and set everything up and have them send their financial paperwork to our finance department. The email to the finance department is finance@hottopicmag.com and the fax is 917-613-4230.

  Thanks,

  Gary

  I grin to myself as I open a new email to confirm with Hannah’s publicist, feeling completely satisfied with myself as I press send. This job is going to be a piece of cake.

  “What’s with the Cheshire cat grin?” Shayla asks from her seat.

  “Gary accepted their offer. Looks like the interview is happening!” I say, unable to contain my excitement.

  “That’s great! I swear, you’re killing it, girl. You’ve only been here, for what, four days?”

  I shrug with a grin. I don’t want to appear cocky, but what can I say? I’ve done some pretty handy work in my few days of being here compared to the mediocre stuff everyone else seems to put out.

  No offense to them and their craft or whatever.

  4:01 p.m.

  Bathroom

  I stand in front of the mirror and touch up my makeup. The last hour at work always seems to drag on forever. The bathroom door swings open and heels click on the tile until they stop at the sink next to me and reveal Madicunt’s reflection in the mirror. She ignores me, smearing lip gloss on her red lips. I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I focus on my makeup. She puts her lip gloss in her purse and turn to face me.

  “You should watch yourself, new girl,” she says.

  I glance at her momentarily and turn my eyes back to the mirror. “And why should I watch myself? Considering that I haven't done anything to anyone to cause me to have to watch myself, I don't understand why you're telling me this,” I say, applying more mascara.

  “You think no one can see through your act. You're not as innocent as you think you are. Just stay away from what's mine and stay in your place. Don't think you'll just walk in here and take over my group.”

  “I wasn't aware that anyone was yours and I'm simply doing my job,” I retort, stuffing my makeup back into my bag. “And I'd advise you to be careful with your threats. I never claimed to be innocent, but I can show you how very bad I am if I need to.” I glare at her smug, cunty face before turning on my heels and leaving her in the bathroom.

  My heart pounds in my chest. Did I really just say that?

  Holy shit.

  Hopefully I didn't just write a check my ass can’t cash.

  Chapter Four

  6:02 p.m.

  My bedroom

  I pace my floor, my mind reeling over my conversation with slut bucket. Maybe Shayla’s right. Cum stain always seems to get upset whenever I get attention. She’s super pissed that Gary made it his business to come tell me I did a good job on my article last night. Her tensed face and pursed lips when I told everyone I was invited to a big celebrity-studded party tonight is probably the icing on the cake of whatever imaginary vendetta she has against me. She should honestly get a life. I'd hate to call the dog catchers on her since she wants to act like a rabid animal for no reason.

  6:44 p.m.

  My closet

  Considering I’ve never gone to a party like this before, I don’t know what the hell I should even wear. None of my clothes seem expensive enough to allow me to look as if I belong there. I won’t dare to ask Taylor. I won’t be surprised if her closet looks as if she shops at Prostitutes ‘R Us. I pull a few of my best dresses out and lay them out on my bed. A black strapless sequin dress seems like it would be a good idea, but it is a bit too chilly to wear it. The red dress that stops at my knees with lace sleeves would've been perfect if the sleeves weren’t so itchy. Why the hell did I buy that thing anyway? Lastly, the strapless white and gold bodycon dress that stops at my knees is gorgeous too, and seems a little more fitting and classy than the other two. I think I'll go with the white and gold one.

  7:35 p.m.

  Out of the shower

  In bedroom

  WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?

  So much for the white and gold dress. There's no way I'm wearing something that tight to look like an exploding can of Pillsbury crescent ro
lls. Back to the cutting board.

  7:49 p.m.

  Still in my bedroom feeling like a Fat Fatty McFatfat

  Yeah, this red dress is still itchy. I should just throw it away; I'm not going to wear it anyhow. NEXT!

  8:08 p.m.

  Still in bedroom

  Cold or not, the black sequin dress will have to do. If I catch vaginal pneumonia or something, I’ll deal with that later. I can handle being sick, but I doubt I can live down Twitter hashtags or bad pictures. I can see it now. #PillsburyDoughBlake hashtags and “OMG why would she wear that dress? She looks horrible!” I shudder. Yeah, this dress will have to do.

  8:12 p.m.

  Chasing Milo

  “GIVE ME BACK MY SLIPPERS, YOU HORNY PERVERT!”

  8:14 p.m.

  Bathroom

  I blow dry my wet hair and turn on the curling iron. Not only do I have to impress celebrities, I want to impress Silas. I sigh. It’s so hard to get through to him. I haven’t met a lot of men who were short on their words, but it peaked my curiosity. He’s mysterious and always there, but you never know what he’s thinking about. All he seems to care about is his camera and the only person he says more than a few words too is Shrek.

  Wait a minute…

  Is she the reason he hardly says anything to me?

  Eh, that can't be true. If she’s the reason, he wouldn't have corrected her when she tried to stop him from coming tonight. He also doesn’t really talk to the others in the office either, so maybe he just isn’t a talker. I'll figure out a way to get through to him.

  Hopefully.

  Maybe.

  I'll consult with baby Jesus about it.

  8:56 p.m.

  Bathroom still curling my hair

  God, my arm is tired. Why can't I just shave my head and be bald? Having hair is so overrated. Ugh.

  9:22 p.m.

  Bathroom doing my makeup

  I’m halfway through my first cat eye when a solid knock on my front door startles me and makes me mess up my eyeliner. FUCK!

  My ruined eyeliner taunts me as I look at myself in the mirror. Of course. Maybe it’s fate that I go to a party looking like a whore who’s been working all night.

  9:23 p.m.

  Living room

  I open the front door to Taylor standing there in a leather body suit so tight that you can literally see every outline of her body. And I mean EVERYTHING. There’s no way she’s wearing a bra or panties. The thought of her sweating in that thing makes me cringe a bit. Now that she’s invited her camel toe to come along, I kind of feel like a third wheel.

  “Look at you, hot stuff,” she says, walking in without being invited. “The limo will be here in ten. They just called.”

  “Ten minutes?” I shriek. “I’m not done with my makeup!”

  “Well, chop chop!” she orders, shooing me away.

  Milo dashes out of my room and into the living room, barking like a complete lunatic. I can hear Taylor laughing and talking to him and he soon stops, his barking turning into unsure whimpering before he goes quiet.

  I quickly redo my cat eyes and finish the rest of my eye makeup before applying a nude lipstick and gloss.

  Voluminous curls? Check.

  Hot dress even though my vagina may form icicles? Unfortunately check.

  Killer heels I may fall in if I drink too much? Check.

  Perfect makeup? As good as it's going to get for now, so check.

  I go back to the living room to see Milo lying on his back on Taylor’s lap as she rubs his belly. I put my hand on my hip.

  “Milo, you're such a little whore. You just want loving from everyone, don't you?”

  He looks at me with shiny eyes, his tongue and tail wagging as Taylor continues.

  Her phone rings, filling the quiet space with an obnoxious voice of Kevin Weaver’s latest song. “Hello? This is she…okay, we’ll be right down,” she says and hangs up. “Limo’s here! It's party time, girl!”

  Milo jumps off her lap and prances back to my bedroom. I grab my purse, making sure my phone is in it and completely charged. I’ll need a full battery to document tonight.

  10:01 p.m.

  Limo

  “How exciting is this?” Taylor squeals, grabbing a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

  “Wait before you open that,” I say quickly and take a deep breath. “I know this is going to sound really stupid, but I need you to hear me out.”

  She leans away from me a bit with a cocked eyebrow. “It's not anything weird, is it?”

  “Not necessarily, but it kind of requires you to lie,” I say, wincing a bit to prepare for her reaction.

  “Oh, well ask away. What's up?” she says, her posture relaxing again.

  Well then. I didn’t necessarily expect that to be so easy.

  “So there's this girl at my job who's the biggest douchebag on the planet. I kind of told her and my co-workers that we were friends—”

  “We are,” she says with a sincere smile. Now I feel a bit like an asshole for not thinking that we are.

  “Well, do you mind being in my Snapchat stories tonight and acting like we’re really good friends? I just want to rub it in her face tomorrow,” I explain.

  Taylor taps her chin with one of the glasses before breaking out into wide grin.

  “Hell yeah, let’s show that bitch!” she exclaims. “Start snapping then. We need to get me opening the bubbly in the story!”

  I pull out my phone, open Snapchat and prepare to record. “Let’s do it!”

  10:14 p.m.

  Glitz Lounge

  We all but stumble out of the limo when we arrive, not able to do anything but giggle like fools. The line is extremely long, anxious bodies fidgeting around to stay warm as they wait to be allowed in. Taylor takes me by the arm and leads me to the front.

  “We don't have to wait in this line. I have a special invite,” she says, pulling out a glittery gold envelope.

  I stand firm in my spot. “Hold on a sec, I'm looking for someone,” I say, scanning the line but didn't see Silas anywhere. Did he change his mind about coming?

  “Blake?” I hear behind me. I spin around and come face to face with those sexy, intense eyes, his usual messy hair slicked and styled in a Mohawk. He’s dressed in a buttoned up shirt, dark slacks, and dress shoes, simple but still sophisticated. I almost become lost in his presence when I notice his camera hanging around his neck.

  Oh right.

  He's here for the stupid work assignment. Ugh.

  He looks me up and down. “You look nice.”

  The goose bumps that rise on my skin have nothing to do with the chilly air around us. His gaze heats and cools my skin at the same time and his compliment sends heat straight to my cheeks.

  “Thank you,” I say. “This is Taylor, my friend I was telling you about.” I turn to Taylor. “This is Silas. He's a photographer that works with me. Can he come in with us?”

  “Any friend of Blake’s is a friend of mine. Sure thing, come on,” she says, looping her arm with mine. I grab Silas’ hand and pull him along; surprised when he doesn't pull away when we’re let in with a flash of an invite and a nod. Will he let me hold it all night?

  10:27 p.m.

  Inside Glitz Lounge

  This. Place. Is. Amazeballs!

  Holy fucking shit.

  Fancy chandeliers hang from the ceiling, which I think was a bit stupid considering that colorful laser lights zapped around the room to the beat of the pumping music. The air is electric and exciting. It’s surreal to know that there are celebrities in this building. Fucking celebrities!

  “Get your phone out and make sure you’re getting all of this!” Taylor yells over the music. I pull it back out and begin to record the both of us dancing, never noticing that Silas has left my side to snap pictures. Even if nothing gossip worthy happens, I’m still going to enjoy this night. Maybe I’ll even find a rich boyfriend in here if Silas wants to be difficult.

  10:40 p.m.

/>   In the VIP area

  “Let’s put some of my other model friends in your Snapchat stories,” Taylor says as she leads me into the VIP area. I nod, guzzling my glass of champagne and taking another flute from a passing tray.

  A group of thin, gorgeous girls sit on a plush couch taking pictures with each other until they notice us approaching.

  “Tay Tay! You made it!” the green-eyed blonde in a tight red sequin dress squeals, jumping to her feet and giving Taylor those weird cheek kisses that people do to greet the other. Bleck.

  She looks beyond Taylor and sees me standing there. Taylor says something in her ear and I watch as her expression goes from confused to surprised and then to mischievous. She walks over to me and leans in close.

  “We’ll make your Snapchat story so good that bitch will wish she had your life,” she says and smiles. Hell, I wish I had my life if every night consists of going to cool parties like this and being around fun people.

  I return her smile. “Thank you!” I say over the music and follow Taylor to take a seat on the couch. I can see Silas from my seat. He doesn’t seem to be looking at me, instead constantly taking pictures of things and then studying them intensely.

  “That’s Julianna,” Taylor says, pointing at the blonde in the red dress. “Kelsey.” She points at a brown-skinned beauty wearing a white lace romper. “Nicole,” pointing to a brown-haired girl wearing a strapless green dress. “And Ashley.” She points at a girl with jet black hair and tanned skin wearing a pant suit, but isn’t wearing anything under the suit jacket. She’s also wearing really dark sunglasses, which doesn’t make a bit of sense because it’s already dark as hell in here.