Simone Liddell had finished getting all the background material she needed for her latest story. Now, she hoped that she could score an interview with the winner of the race, Stefano Capaldi. That would be a feather in her cap -- well, it would be, but what woman wore caps anymore?
Everything was going well with her career. The magazine was giving her bigger stories, a chance to succeed and do the important work. No more stories about curling, lacrosse or sports that had a following, but it was small. The race today had 20 thousand spectators and Capaldi's car had beaten the favorite, the car driven by Andy Travis which was sponsored by Castrol. Capaldi had been on his way to becoming the poster boy for Grand Prix racing, the new golden boy and now he had succeeded. She knew that some well-chosen words from him would make her story sing and might even earn her a nice bonus. All she had to do is catch his eye.
As it turned out, that wasn't too hard. Simone was a stunning, Swedish-born woman. She stood almost 5'10" tall, elegant, long-legged, tanned with blonde hair that was almost eerily silver and eyes that were violet, just like Elizabeth Taylor's. She dressed well, although professionally and many people told her she should have been a model. She could have modeled, there had been offers as early as when she was 14, but Simone loved the idea of being a reported and had ever since she had watched "His Girl Friday" with her father at age 10. Simone Liddell loved old movies, especially films with Cary Grant and he had passed that appreciation on to his daughter.
"Cary Grant was cool Daddy, but Hildy Johnson wasn't intimidated by him one bit," Simone said. "She was tough and feisty, that's how I want to be. I want to be a reporter, just like her."
Simon laughed and wrote it off as the nonsensical fantasies of a little girl, like when they say they want to be a ballerina, a nurse or a high-fashion model. He shouldn't have, knowing his daughter the way that he did. Of course, from that day forward, the determined child worked towards her goal. Her marks in English shot straight up and she worked hard in every subject, she read all the time. In high school, Simone joined the school paper and in her second year until her graduation, she was editing it. The paper won 2 awards 2 years in a row and although a few people quit because they said she was tough rough on them, no one would have questioned her journalistic skills.
Simone worked hard all of her life, had a part-time job in high school and in university so that her parents wouldn't have to pay her way and she astounded her professors with the clarity with which she wrote. Her words seemed to leap off the page. Several of her instructors took notice of her, although at times, it was hard to tell if it was because of her work or the beauty she held.
Simone dated and when she met Bobby, an all-star athlete, she thought that she had found it all. There was no sport that he couldn't play and Simone was smitten. Tall, broad-shouldered and with an easy-going smile, he brought his new girlfriend into his world. Simone took to sports the way she took to everything; she dived right in and soon knew more about some sports than Bobby did. She believed that she would eventually marry Bobby, they had talked about it. Lately though, their relationship had grown tepid. She was sure that it was because she earned far more as a sportswriter than he did coaching high school football. Simone didn't care who earned what, but she wasn't too sure Bobby felt the same way. So, for the time being, they were "on a break".
Simone had a way of using her beauty; she used it to get one foot in the door. However, once her stilettoed toes were in the door, she steadfastly insisted on letting her work do all the talking for her. That's how it had been for Jack Riley, her magazine's editor. He had seen the unusual blonde beauty and decided to grant her 5 minutes of his time. Those 5 minutes turned into over an hour as he poured over some of the most inventive, articulate, well-researched articles he had ever read. Jack had read work by veteran writers that didn't flow with the poetic, beautiful prose style Simone's did. He bet that even some of their female audience would warm to her style. It was the perfect meld of prose and hard-hitting facts.
Never blowing a deadline, always finding an angle, superb journalism, those were the qualities that had earned Simone this shot. Now she had to find a way to make it all work and attract Stefano Capaldi's attention. As it turned out, she didn't have to work too hard. He saw her, as she was hard to miss in the throng of mostly-male reporters and with her unique look, stood out completely. With a welcoming smile already on his handsome, face, he made his way over to her.
"You are quite possibly the prettiest sight I've seen all day," He smiled at her, face still glistening with perspiration from the race. "Someone as lovely as you cannot possibly be a sports reporter."
Simone resisted the urge to giggle, he was flirting with her and he had the most gorgeous dark eyes. She kept having to remind herself she was here to do a job because if she didn't, she might well have flirted right back.
"Yes, I most assuredly am a reporter and I was wondering if I could get a few words for my article?" Simone asked, letting her eyes do some of the talking for her.
"I think for someone as lovely as you, I could make some kind of arrangement," Stefano smiled, sequestering her from the rest of the reporters. Just as she was about to ask him some pertinent questions, a stunning, dark-haired woman walked towards the pair of them. She looked familiar to Simone, although her identity was unclear at first.
"Has my fiancé been flirting with you?" The woman asked. "If so, allow me to apologize on his behalf." Simone insisted all was okay and that she hadn't been offended, so the woman added, "Don't worry about him; he's a terrible flirt, although in your case, I can't say I blame him -- you are exquisite!"
"Sofia is right, you are lovely," Stefano smiled. He had dazzling white teeth and she knew from her research they were all his own, he had yet to be in a serious accident. "I promise though, I don't bite. If you come back to my locker area and let me clean up, I will answer as many questions as you like."
Once Stefano had said the woman's name, Simone recognized her -- she was Sofia Gamba, the Brazilian model, this year's "it" girl and possibly the next
La Vie En Rose
cover model. Their engagement must have been a recent thing, as her research had turned up nothing about it.
"You shouldn't believe him about the biting," Sofia whispered as she linked her arm through Simone's. "It's not true, although they're only nibbles and they don't really hurt." She chuckled.
Simone found herself immediately warming to Sofia. She could easily imagine Stefano and Sofia together, she flashed on them naked and in bed. Dark, mysterious, sensual, lean, fit bodies writhing and twisting in passion, she ...
Sofia looked at Simone as if she knew exactly what the young reporter was thinking. A soft smile played across her sensual, full lips. "The moment I met him, I knew I had better grab him and take him off the market," Sofia whispered to her.
"I imagine he had much the same thought about you," Simone smiled, taking a few quick notes.
"He did," Sofia giggled. "Of course, the fact that the skirt I was wearing wasn't much bigger than a postage stamp didn't hurt."
