Chapter 5

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. She was wearing tasteful glasses that made her look more serious. She was nothing like their computer idol. Seeing her behind the computer keyboard, he didn't even think for a moment about her long legs or a perfect figure.

He was just wondering what a woman might know about the automotive industry, especially about the newest wonder from the Jaguar stable. Will she understand anything at all? Probably not much. Well, that wasn’t his business.

“Please come back to my office in ten minutes. I will read your text first.” Thomas heard her say.

The text was sensational, as was the car he had written about. Content, he returned to his colleagues, who completely ignored the order of the chief editor and continued to play cards at the collegiate table.

They replaced the boring bridge with the poker, a stealthy watered beer stored under the table. Every now and then someone reached for a new bottle, ignoring the unmasked clinking of glasses. Typical, boring editorial afternoon.

Thomas, pleased with himself, because he was the only one who had fulfilled the boss's orders, began to compare his virtual and so far only love - Lara Croft and the new chief editor.

He criticized her outfit. From his perspective, it was not very comfortable for an erotic pole dance with those red high heels and her too long nails. He got so far ahead in his thoughts that he started making fun of her knowledge as well.

The gentlemen sitting around the collegiate table had a great time, regardless of the open door to Nicolas’ office.

Suddenly, the new chief editor appeared above Thomas. Without saying anything, she stared at his cards through her glasses. Everyone fell silent. They didn't even think for a moment about ending the game and even pretending that they were working honestly and finishing their texts.

“Mr. Evans, please correct the factual errors and put more heart into what you write!” She smiled and without taking her eyes off his cards, added: "You don't stand a chance with these cards!"

‘What? More heart?’ Thomas thought, devastated. He was so choked that he was unable to loudly comment on the unfair remark. After all, he had put all his heart into his work. What content errors? He really did not understand.

“Dear gentlemen? When will I read your articles?” She asked stoically.

They were silent. They showed no interest in the chief editor's words. They kept their eyes on the pool in the center of the table - a sumptuous pile of banknotes.

Alice was amused by the editorial team, or rather the drunken card company. She wanted to sit down to play with them and let everyone go only in their socks. It would have been the best lesson, but she knew it wasn't right for her. Maybe someday, but not on her first day of work.

In one moment, she would demolish the wall that had arisen between them after such a controversial greeting. She had an excuse to torture them deliberately, and she could not miss out on this chance.

Seeing no reaction from her subordinates, she decided to play a little harder with the reluctant, indisciplined card company, which was nothing like a team publishing a prestigious magazine, but a bunch of gamblers in a small casino.

She mustered her emotions, put on a proper poker face, and loudly began to speak in clear pronounced words.

“Dear gentlemen, I must inform you that you won’t leave the editorial office until I have read your texts!” Still serious, but this time with an ironic smile on her lips, she continued.

“Unless one of you wishes to be dismissed today!” That said, she turned on her heel, or rather on her high heel, and gracefully returned to Nicolas’ office.

“This is going to be a nice party! Huh, guys?” Michael burst out laughing, who so far treated the magazine as his property and felt not only irreplaceable, but also completely inviolable. As of now, off the top of his head, he only had the title that perfectly suited the topic of the next issue of the magazine and a punch line, which was bloody idiotic, because he had no idea for a better one yet.

Officially, there were still about forty minutes left of work hours. Had it not been for the circumstances and the presence of Nicolas, there would be no one in the editorial office. If they were, it would be during partying and after drinking at least a few bottles of strong alcohol.

Who wanted to move their brain grey cells, sit at the keyboard and write? Certainly not him. He just did not understand why no one wanted to argue.

“How are your articles coming along, gentlemen?” He asked ironically.

“And yours?” Carl grunted while getting up from the table, their ‘editorial hustle’, who was going to finish the game. He decided to go back to his room to finish his report.

“Where are your balls, man?” Michal exclaimed rudely. “Are you going to listen to that woman? Don't you have your mind?”

“I literally need a few minutes to make a few corrections and my article will be ready.” Adam spoke to prevent an unnecessary row, which would make the already fatal situation even worse. Unlike most of his colleagues, Adam, despite his young age, was distinguished by responsibility and extreme caution in all actions.

Also, like the rest of the editorial team, he did not tolerate Carl, with whom, unfortunately, he had to work in the same room and in the same department - reportage, but he knew his buddies.

Adam had no text. He intended to use his ‘stocks’, i.e. articles that could be used to fill an empty column, not directly related to the magazine's profile, but to his private passions like diving, sailing and snowboarding, but still suitable to the content.

“And you, Alex?” Michael asked his friend. “Why are you slacking off?”

“Are you talking to me?” Alex asked, preparing the news. “Silly question! What should be ready, is. As usual!”