Still A Virgin?! by Kobby Ben (classic novels to read txt) 📕

CHAPTER 1

"Thanks Jacques." Danielle said gratefully to her best friend's ex, getting out of his cab, after she'd asked him a million times, pleading earnestly with him to drive her when she'd woken up late for her scheduled appointment.

Jacques, forty and thin with a fat moustache and dark hair cascading locks down his forehead, cocked a brow at her, "Now, can I have my money?"

Danielle gave him a faux smile and rummaged through her bag pretentiously "Shoot!" she grunted, "I forgot to take my purse."

He glared at her realizing she was lying, "When can I have my money?"

"Right when I get this job," she beamed; happy he didn't persist for his money. Knowing him for a year and half, Jacques would create any scene to get his money back. Including hauling her up by her skirt.... if he was that strong.

"I am counting on you to get this job." He warned and scrutinized her outfit the first time since the ride. She wore a black satin blouse with ruffles on the neckline and a high-waisted matching skirt, "You'll need more cleavage if you want good news."

"Sorry Jacques," her voice etched with sarcasm, "it's a woman giving me the job."

"Oh," he nodded in realization, "I almost told you not to offer BJs, if anything, handle a hand job, 'cause you never know where his junk has been to."

She giggled lightly watching the cab screech away "Silly." She remarked turning to face the building she was heading to.

Grayman Avenue, Santa Barbara, Newchic. All her life as a free-lance writer, her biggest wish was for an employment in one of the best Women's magazines in the world. Newchic was every girl's dream and being part of the 'every', she'd planned her life to be prepared for the glitz and glamor that came with working for the magazine.

Now, all she needed was to know if she had the job with the trial article published in the previous issue. And that was only possible if she could muster courage to walk into the building without running back for a cab home.

It was normal to be nervous, but it wasn't normal for nervousness to keep her standing outside the building on a pavement for almost five minutes.

A passing guy with a Mohican cut with tattoos all over winked at her.

She grinned comfortingly, that was the encouragement she needed. She strutted towards the building with an elegant lithe, making sure she made perfect steps with her 3.5 inch Louboutin heels, swaying her head and making her chin-length red hair move with the light wind.

As she did her mojo-walk crossing the street to the building, she felt slightly uncomfortable underneath-Her Panties! She cursed silently, stopping right at the entrance of the building. They must have entered her bottom again.

'Sometimes, fashion was a pain in the ass,' she'd heard from a lot of people, now she was realizing it. And the most bugging thing was, she was literally experiencing it.

She dug her hands into the back of her skirt trying to get herself out of the awful wedgie situation.

She sighed in relief as she made slight movements to test for comfort.

"Oooh!" a group of guys taking the adjacent pavement hooted at her.

She turned sharply at them and looked away quickly, "Great Danni," she chided herself, "next time you want to embarrass yourself with good-looking guys make sure you select the right underwear."

Newchic's workspace occupied the fourth and fifth floors of Black Publishing Company building, which was a publishing house that was founder of numerous magazines including Newchic.

Danielle had to get to the third floor where her meeting was scheduled at the office of Cathleen Black, President of Black Publishing/EIC of Newchic. Having met her the first time last month, she could gather the woman hated unpunctuality and looking at her watch as she rode alone in the elevator, Danielle was far from punctual.

The elevator doors slid open, she sighed thankfully rushing out of it onto the floor.

"Sorry." She bumped into a few people before reaching the receptionist's desk.

"Danielle Longhorne?" the receptionist who had curly blonde hair and wore a tight suit asked with uncertainty.

"Yeah." Danni nodded frantically, "Please do not tell me the appointment's been cancelled, I am just five minutes late. And you know how living with the elderly is, all the feeding, the diaper change-not forgetting the throw ups--"the receptionist snapped her off her lies.

"No." she shook her head, her eyes bulging out with seriousness, "I do not know how it is living with the elderly, and don't worry about me-it's a good thing Cathleen didn't cancel the appointment, but keep the explanations for her."

"Is she furious?" Danielle asked scared, she'd not even had the job yet and she'd started with the bad impressions already.

"Why don't you go into her office and come back with the report? Trust me, you are not the only one dying to know."

Danielle creased her brows at the rudeness to which she'd answered her, "Nice suit." She complimented out of annoyance before she turned to walk towards Cathleen's office.

Danielle pushed through the door tagged 'Cathleen Black-President'. She stepped into a chic office with five cabinet drawers, a large glass desk-on it a vase of roses. A small black leathered sofa stood beside the desk with a coffee table and a couple of magazines. On the walls were posters of Newchic covers which Cathleen had explained earlier, were the best-selling issues of the magazine.

She looked back at the glass desk noticing the dark woman with rich brown chocolate skin and brown hair pouring down the straight shoulders. She was dressed up professionally in a white pant-suit and black heels that revealed immaculately painted fuchsia toe-nails. At the moment, she was busily scanning files whilst tapping a pencil against her desk.

Danielle didn't know whether to interrupt her or wait till she looked up to notice her. She was already late so she guessed she should take the brave step of making her aware of her presence, "Ms. Black?" she called, nervous.

Cathleen looked up and on seeing her, she took off her contact lenses to reveal her piercing gray eyes.

Danni felt her skin peel off as her hot gaze scanned her outfit.

"First things first, Granny."

Danni's features went dead at how she'd been referred to.

"Anything wrong?" Cathleen asked, noticing her expression.

"You called me... Granny." Danielle almost killed herself for voicing that out.

"Isn't that what you told me the other time?" she asked, confused "'I am Danielle Longhorne, Grannie for short.'" She made a mimic of her voice.

"That's not what I had said," she tried making it sound less rude than it already was "I said," she enunciated, "'I am Danielle Longhorne, you can call me Danni for short."

"Oh," she said in comprehension, gesturing her to take the seat adjacent to her.

Danielle walked quickly to the desk, pulling out the swivel chair and sitting.

"Well," she spoke tucking her hair behind her ear, "First things first, Granny," she said with all intention, making Danni aware of the fact that she was still the boss and could call her anything she wanted, "I adore the blouse," she pointed her acutely-sharpened pencil at the black satin top "who designed it? I mean, it might be black but it sure isn't from Ralph Lauren's Black label."

"It's one of those dresses you buy at the flea markets with its label ripped off by the other bitches who struggled with you to get it." She answered honestly, winning a chuckle from the woman. Honesty had always been the best policy, even in securing a job at a high-end magazine.

"Okay, let's get to the point here..."

Danielle's heart skipped a beat as she waited for the news. She prayed she was getting the job, and that sincerely was the last time she would be saying any prayers if she didn't get it.

"The point is," she brushed a stray strand on her arm "you can't come into a place that could be the HQ of the fashion industry dressed in something from the flea markets."

"I know." Danielle admitted mortified, "But in these hard economic times, it's not easy affording a wardrobe with each outfit at thousands of dollars."

Cathleen sighed in exasperation, "Let's get to the point here, the tweed skirt so isn't working for me."

Danni kept a smile on, 'cause she knew if she took it off, she was going to RIP HER HEAD OFF! Enough with the clothes already! She came here for the job not a whole lecture of what outfit works and what doesn't. Plus, she was hurting her feelings, minutes before walking into her office, she'd thought she was the most fashionable woman on the planet-not the most fashionable thing, everyone knew Lady Gaga was the most fashionable thing on the planet.

"And haven't you heard of accessorizing!" Cathleen yelled at her "Okay, so you are wearing earrings, but we all know if they aren't Swarovskis, you are not accessorizing!"

Danielle switched her gaze to her surroundings in order to block the thoughts of things that had a lot to do with punches and throttling.

"And crissakes, what scent do you have on?" she scrunched her nose in displeasure "Please tell me it's something from a celeb, 'cause the scent doesn't matter if it's got J-Lo on it."

Danielle looked back at her incredulously. Maybe she thought she was no match for her in the wrestling department that was why she was pushing her buttons that hard. Really, Danielle knew she couldn't stand up  to a fight with the woman, any attempt and she was going to be crushed like hotdogs in a roll. If she really wanted to hear whether she had the job... or not, she must think of something to get the woman straight to the point.

"You know it would have taken just a cinch at the waist to nail the outfit," she surmised "I didn't want to say this but..." she shook her head pitifully "your choice of clothing is as bad as your article."

Tears slid down Danni's cheek instantly, she buried her face in her hands sobbing uncontrollably.

"Oh my..." Cathleen stared at her horrifyingly, just when she thought she had thick skin to endure in the business "Tell me you are not crying."

"I am!" Danni yelled at her "you just called my article bad."

"Okay, I didn't mean what I said about your article." Cathleen blurted out wondering if she just joined the baby-sitters club.

Danielle almost grinned. She couldn't believe she'd fallen for her 'cry-baby' trick. Thank heavens she hadn't ditched the prank back when her mother had found out it was a ploy to always get what she wanted. Now she was going straight to make the woman go straight to the point, "You are lying." She continued with her pretension reaching out for Cathleen's bag for a handkerchief.

"Here." She handed her the Kleenex on her desk when she guessed what she was scrambling to her bag for, feeling awful for causing her to cry.

Danielle dubbed the Kleenex at her tears, speaking, "You are not telling me the truth, and do you know how much that hurts? I have strived for years trying to make it to Newchic and I come here and all you tell me is lies!"

"You had the job!" Cathleen blurted out to Danni's surprise.

"That's another of your lies, isn't it?" she asked, tears ceasing all of a sudden.

At Cathleen's assuring smile, Danni leaped out of her chair screaming "Aargh!"

Cathleen stuck a finger in both ears to stop the noise.

She slammed back in the chair frenetically, getting short of breath, "Tell me more."

Cathleen grinned, happy she'd made her happy, "I loved your article-Love is an understatement," she thought for a word "I...LOVED it!" she screamed out when no possible word came in mind. Before Danielle leaped for a scream, she gripped her arm to prevent her "wait till I am done." She instructed coldly "I