Pretty in Ink Read Online Free

Pretty in Ink
Book: Pretty in Ink Read Online Free
Author: Lindsey Palmer
Pages:
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morons.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “I’m sorry, too.” Louisa inhales deeply and looks up at me. “I’m really sorry.” She smoothes out her skirt, sighs, and then emerges from her office into the maze of cubicles.
    “Louisa, what’s wrong?” I hear Mark ask. “Are you OK?”
    “Jasper broke his foot,” she responds, hurrying out of the office. Jenny has to chase after her with her purse.
     
    Louisa doesn’t return that afternoon. Our managing editor, Abby, calls a staff meeting. We shuttle into the conference room, and everyone seems restless. I overhear Zoe and Jane chattering about Hers ’ poor newsstand numbers and flagging subscriptions; Mark and Debbie are murmuring guesses at Louisa’s latest crazy scheme to save the magazine; Drew is telling the intern that some people are concerned Hers isn’t making the transition fast enough to tablet technology. I stay on the sidelines and give my stomach a silent pep talk to stop its lurching.
    I see the looks of shock as, instead of Louisa, Mrs. Winters, Schmidt & Delancey’s editorial director, enters and takes her place at the front of the room. Mrs. Winters is known for her thick gray bun and her formidable poker face, though privately I suspect a wig is responsible for the former and Botox for the latter. A halo of hush surrounds her at all times. Mrs. Winters delivers the official party line: “Ms. Harding is stepping down from her position as editor in chief of Hers magazine in order to pursue other interests.
    “Are there any questions?” she quips.
    No one dares speak up. I hear Zoe mumble, “Is that what we’re calling unemployment these days? ‘Other interests’?”
    “OK, then, that’s all for today,” says Mrs. Winters. “We’ll give word as soon as there’s any further news.” Filing out of the conference room, we all flash our fake “No hard feelings” smiles at Mrs. Winters. I catch Drew, our photo editor, staring at me with a look of uncensored pity. Then Abby pats me on the back in a “Keep your head up” kind of way. Accustomed to being envied and admired and looked up to, I feel totally out of my element—and scared. That’s when I understand. Louisa wasn’t saying she was sorry about her own situation; rather, she was apologizing to me. Because I will soon be out of a job, too.

2
    Jane Staub-Smith, Associate Editor
    A s any decent (and anxious) reporter would, I begin preparing for my Mimi meeting as soon as we get the e-mail. It’s from Laura, the new assistant: “Hi all! I’m scheduling each person fifteen-minute time slots with Mimi so she can get to know you and your roles at the magazine.” In other words, so we can defend our jobs with everything we’ve got. My appointment is on Friday, two days from now, which leaves plenty of time for due diligence.
    A morning’s scroll through LexisNexis reveals that Mimi hails from Kansas farm country (which may as well be Uzbekistan, as far as I’m concerned); she attended the state school, then bartended in St. Louis for two years before shipping out to New York and working her way up at the big tabloids, meanwhile marrying and divorcing two men, first a nurse and then a doctor. Most recently the executive editor of the lowbrow celeb rag Starstruck, she’s earned herself a reputation for being smart (despite the mediocre pedigree), ruthless, and impulsive. I uncover a decade-old photo of Mimi with her arm slung around our very own recipe creator, Debbie.
    I make my way to Hers ’ test kitchen, and then hover outside until Debbie invites me in, as is protocol. “So you know the new boss from before, huh?” I ask.
    “Diligent digging,” Debbie says. “What, did you hire a PI to get the scoop before your meeting?”
    “Guilty as charged, minus the PI. I’m nervous! So is it true?”
    “Yeah, Mimi and I worked together at VIP, although I don’t like to advertise the fact. That was the brief blip I spent hounding celebrities’ every move. I reported on what
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