Greetings From La-La Land!
Lesson for the day? Do not—I repeat, do NOT—ever leave anything to chance.
Case in point: after still no word yesterday—I know…beyond depressing!—I got on the horn and put my network in motion. Well, guess what? Turns out the job is down to me and…wait for it now…that’s right, you got it--my arch nemesis, Natasha Duncan.
Don’t know who I’m talking about? Let me paint the picture: Natasha would knock her own granny over if it meant beating me to the sales rack at Nordstrom’s. She’d slip cyanide in my Cosmo if it meant more face time with my date. In short, she’s a lying, cheating, byotch.
Other than that, a stellar human being.
Trust me on this. I’ve done battle with her before and have the scars to prove it. But, not this time, ladies and gents. Not this time. All bets are off. I may have been too trusting in the past—the newbie on the scene believing she’d found a mentor—but no more Ms. Nice Chick.
Which means I’m hauling out the big guns. (Yes! I have big guns! How cool is that?) You see, after the last skirmish (involving a minor battle over a parking space which escalated into full-scale warfare complete with crumpled fenders and the arrival of about a dozen uniforms), I took it upon myself to bone up on Ms. Duncan. That’s right. I have a dossier so thick it requires plastic tabs and color-coded separation sheets. The thing reads like a who, what, why, where, when, and how of Natasha’s standard M.O. (modus operandi).
In other words, I’ve got enough dope on the chick to deep-six any dream she has of working for Damien.Stay tuned...