Chapter 1:
Cramped between bed and brick, atop dirty clothes and only god knows, stood a short, young and shapely brunette woman. Her name was Jennifer, and she was in quite a bit of hurry, dashing this way and that -- taking not her time, nor sipping slowly at her steam-topped tea. No, instead she was applying her makeup with one hand, all the while trying to stuff those items she might need for the day into her purse. She had to be prepared -- had to be ready, for it was a big day. A day Jennifer had been planning for, and working towards, for the last 379 days, as far as she was able to count it. Her journey began as few do, with the reading of an interview posted on a popular men's blog, one with a reputation for less than subtle content.
The subject was not just one man, but two: Aston and Bennett Bowman. They held the distinction, and blessing of being a pair of incredibly handsome twin brothers, who just so happened to also be the co-CEO's of Bowman international, a quickly growing, and world renowned technology firm. Their company began, as most computer startups do, in Silicon Valley. They had grown, through the application of sustainable ambition and millennial savvy, to heights most companies never reach, and did so faster than any firm had ever done before. The key however, to the interview, was that their company's rise was in their minds just beginning, and in fact, was about to embark on the building of a new headquarters in downtown New York. That plan, as the article read, was not undertaken because it was a business necessity, or because it was what the bottomline dictated, but instead, because it was a challenge. A new mountain to climb. A new sea to master. And though talk of brilliant business maneuvers and roars of unchecked bravado laced almost every question, and answer, Jennifer fixated on just the smallest of tidbits, set adrift somewhere near the end of the article.
Interviewer: "And ... uh ... you two are good looking guys. You've got the world at your fingertips, and happen to be single. What can the ladies of New York expect? What are your tastes. Who will be your prey, when you arrive in the city that never sleeps?"
Austin: "Well I have to say, as different as Bennett and I are, we have basically the exact same taste in women."
Bennett: "You could say it has gotten us both into more than a few fights."
Austin: "A couple."
Bennett: "Black eyes... No, i'm kidding. Actually maybe I'm not, didn't you...?"
Austin: "Let's just answer his question, B. We like short, thick, brunettes."
Interviewer: "How thick? Big breasts? Big butts?"
Bennett: "Thick thighs, big butt, huge breasts, and a tight tummy. Ariel Winter is a good example. Her and I broke up, but she was perfect."
Austin: "Yeah, she was."
Bennett: "See, that's where the black eyes came in."
Like manna from heaven, the description came down to Jennifer, who had for years and years held the most obsessive of crushes on Austin. He had, or more accurately, they had, described HER. They wanted HER. She was their dream girl. It was enough to have made her squeak and squeal, and in fact she did both upon reading those glorious words set to screen.
As her glee settled into sanity, and hope turned to hunger, the young woman decided that she had to meet them, or more specifically HIM -- had to put herself in Austin's life, and earn his heart and hand. Not because he was rich, but because she felt, honestly, that she loved him. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and Jennifer had spent hours, weeks to be truthful, googling pictures of her muse, and then Bing-ing the same, just in case there was a difference in what came back. She would watch YouTube videos, and attend business lectures he gave, at the latter hoping for a chance encounter or a Cinderella reenactment, though neither ever came.
All of that seemed like nonsense now, as a plan, a real plan took shape in her mind. One that she enacted without delay, hitting the gym religiously, not to lose weight, but to forge her body into something Austin could not resist. "Ariel Winter who?" She would make him say. And whilst she worked out, she worked up, doing her best to improve her resume, so that we're she to apply to the new building being built, she'd have a better chance of being hired.
Finally, the day had arrived, and Jennifer, now dressed to kill, and built to beguile, walked out her door and into the crisp New York air, ready to bag herself the man of her dreams.
Her optimism, however, quickly faded, as the elevator door opened at the 85th floor, and revealed just how steep her competition would be. Women -- seas of women, each dressed to impress, and bearing enough cleavage to draw even the Pope's eye, sat, stood, and strolled, waiting for their turn to meet with Austin and Bennett. Despite her rapidly declining confidence, Jennifer checked in, found he last available seat, and began waiting. Minutes, hours, days it felt like passed, and still she had not been called. Then suddenly, when she had almost given up hope, the brothers, each wearing the most expensive of suits, and most earned of smirks, walked out of their offices and surveyed the remaining crowd. They both seemed to catch on something that interested them, one on either side of the room. They whispered and pointed towards Jennifer's seat, then across the floor to another girl, who Jenn could not see. Jenn felt it was her time -- time for her to finally get her chance! She was certain they were about to call her name, and even stood to make the required traversal as quick as possible! But, just as a smile took to her beautiful plump lips: disaster.
Austin: "We have found our personal assistants, ladies. Thank you all so much for coming, but there won't be anymore interviews."
Bennett: "Yeah, we really appreciate all of your interest. Feel free to apply for the other jobs that we will be announcing in the near future. We need a good team here, and really have to fill all these floors with people, so ... don't get discouraged."
The words, though calm and kind, struck a cold nausea into Jennifer's stomach -- a feeling which twisted and turned as one girl after another passed by her. They left, one by one -- in groups -- each commenting on how upset they were that they didn't get a chance to interview. They were like ghosts to the brunette, who remained seated, lost on the verge of tears. Finally she mustered the strength to stand, but made it only to the on-floor bathroom, where she decided to hide herself in a stall and cry. Her sobbing continued, and hardened, robbing her of breath and balance, forcing her to sit, to avoid falling. How could she not have even gotten a chance? This was supposed to be! She thought to herself. But even as they swirled and swelled, the bitter questions she couldn't answer and agony she couldn't quell were interrupted, when Jenn heard the sound of another person crying in the stall next to her -- another woman.
