By Sue Margolis
From the writer who introduced you Spin Cycle and Neurotica comes a hilarious new novel approximately falling in love, hating your task, and getting what you will want out of life---without ever mussing your lipstick!When it involves males, good looks columnist Rebecca nice continuously seems at the scruffy finish of the mascara wand. yet all that alterations the morning she meets Max Stoddart, her new colleague on the day-by-day leading edge. together with his upscale swimsuit, Hugh supply hair, and obscenely horny beauty, he’s a unmarried woman’s dream come real. ultimately, her grandmother can cease browsing the web for eligible Jewish men. yet is Max the capture of the decade---or only a significant babe magnet? in the meantime, Rebecca’s previous highschool nemesis has resurfaced, a former blond bombshell referred to as Lipstick who's now engaged to Rebecca’s widowed dad. And it’s goodbye to articles on toe cleavage while a sizzling tip sweeps Rebecca to the guts of the Paris cosmetics global, the place a miracle anti-wrinkle cream is ready to be introduced. that's, until eventually she blows the whistle on a scandal that can set the wonder business---and the way forward for international peace---reeling. Will Rebecca win the recognition---not to say the Pulitzer---she yearns for...and get the fellow of her desires? remain tuned.
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Her eyes shot round the huge open-plan office. Nothing. For one dreadful moment it occurred to her that after only a fortnight on the Vanguard, she’d been sacked. But why? She’d done two beauty columns so far and there hadn’t been even a sniff of a complaint from Lucretia. In fact only yesterday she’d made a point of coming over to her and saying how much she’d enjoyed the one on nasal waxing. Finally she located her possessions piled up on the floor beside the fire escape. Next to the pile was a desk.
Rebecca shrugged. Then she picked up one of the small linen towels and dried her hands. Back at the party, she decided to go up to Fergie—whom she’d interviewed at a couple of charity dos and rather liked—to see if she could get a quote for her column. She greeted Rebecca warmly and swore blind she remembered meeting her. Rebecca couldn’t help feeling flattered. They’d been standing chatting about what Fergie described as the “dazzling decor” (vast potted trees sprayed white, their branches laced with tiny white fairy lights, ten-foot ice statues, a purple-draped ceiling twinkling with stars) and the food, which was equally “dazzling,” when Rebecca realized the woman was still watching her.
Yes, I know all about it,” she said. ” She told him about the switchboard mix-up and the women being put through to her by mistake. “Oh, God. ” “I’ve had a word with the switchboard,” she said, “but I’d really appreciate it if you could, too—just to make sure they know your extension. ” “I can imagine. ” “Not to worry,” she said, giving him another smile. Despite her protestations to Jess yesterday, she suddenly realized how unspeakably fanciable he looked. She was suddenly imagining him tonguing her in the fashion cupboard.