First Time For Everything: ON HOLD

Chapter Ten

She rolled her eyes and shrugged as she took a swig of her soda. "Puppy love," she remarked simply.

"Horny puppy love," I muttered under my breath while I fixed myself a plate.

"Not my fault boys can't resist my milkshake," she sassed, wiggling her hips. "Besides, I'm not the one who was just given a free pizza."

"Oh, whatever," I blushed.

"Aw! Is somebody embarrassed?" she cooed.

"Me? Embarrassed? Psh! I don't know the meaning of the word!" I answered as I sauntered to the living room.

"Oh really?" she asked following me.

"Yes, really." I tucked myself into the corner of my fluffy chaise and began to shovel pizza into my mouth in order to end any and all conversation about the pizza's gracious donor.

Catherine floated past me as she cautioned, "Careful now, you might get a stain on your sweater." I rolled my eyes and continued to scarf down my food. "Just remember," she began with a not-so-innocent smirk, "the only things that should be messy are the sheets."

I gagged. She laughed hysterically. "Y-you're s-sick!" I spluttered loudly once I regained control of myself.

"But you love me!" she said. Eh, she was right. If I didn't love her, she would have been kicked out faster than a drunk cobra at a baby bunny's birthday party. (I like bunnies. Sue me.)

"Pervert." I placed my half-empty plate on the coffee table between the chaise and sofa, now too unsettled to finish eating, before turning on the television. I was still channel surfing when the phone rang. I reached over to pick it up but Catherine miraculously beat me to it.

"Hello?" she chirped sweetly as I began to channel surf again. "This is Catherine, Veronica's best friend." I snorted softly at her claim, though I was happy that she considered us best friends. "Who is this?" she asked, clearly intrigued by the voice on the other end. "Clive? Clive Foxworthy?" I deadpanned at the name.

That vile little rodent! I screeched in my head. I reached up to snatch the phone away, but Catherine clearly had other plans. "Oh my! I've read just about all of your articles! I adore your column!" she gushed as she say down on the armrest of my sofa. I grunted in disgust and reached for the phone again, but she jerked it away yet again. "You're absolutely welcome!" Disgruntled, I got up from the chaise and stood in front of her, impatiently tapping my foot. "You got us the pizza?" I deadpanned again. You've got to be kidding me! I thought in disbelief.

Fed up, I snatched the phone away from Catherine and barked, "You insolent jerk!"

"Now, Veronica," Alexander began smoothly, "it's not very nice to insult the man that-"

"Don't you lecture me!" I snapped back. "How in the hell did you get my house phone number?"

"You do realize you're talking to a journalist, right?" he retorted smoothly albeit arrogantly.

"Oh yeah? Well how's this for a headline? 'Premier journalist found unconscious and castrated in Lower West dumpster.' That sound nice? Because if you ever call me again without my given consent that headline will be plastered on the front pages of every newspaper in this city!" I shouted before slamming the phone back on the receiver.

“Yeesh, remind me not piss you off,” Catherine commented offhandedly. I just stared at her, adhering to the age-old adage because nothing I had to say was nice. “Well, this is getting awkward…” she said after a solid silent minute passed between.

I breathed in deeply to calm myself. The last thing I needed was to snap at my best friend because some jackhole doesn’t possess a single-… Like I said, I needed to calm down and fast. I turned towards her and said evenly, “If you’re wondering what he ever did to piss me off, he lied to me to my face and then made it seem like a big joke.”

Catherine gaped at me for a split second before her own brand of rage consumed her. “Oh that arrogant piece of-“

“I know! And the worst part was I believed him!”

“That bastard! Well. Just so you know, as soon as I leave here, I’m going to burn all of his columns that I kept!” she announced proudly.

I cocked an eyebrow questioningly. “Okay, what?”

“What?’ she asked. “You don’t keep clippings of your favorite articles or columns?”

“No. My mom does,” I replied truthfully.

“Oh dear. I didn’t realize I was already forming old lady habits!” she shrieked in terror. “Quick! Check my boobs! Are they perky?” She shook her chest in front of my face rather violently.

I pushed her away but the image of her swishy chest was forever burned into my memory. “Put them away! Put them away!” I cried as I held up my hands to block my face from her chest of perkiness.

“No! Not until you tell that they’re perky!” With that she advanced on me again shaking her chest.

“Yes!” I shouted. “Your boobs are perkier than a cheerleader hyped up on a Red Bull, espresso, and Riddelin!”

She backed off and looked down at her chest, a smile on her lips as she asked, “Really? They’re that perky?”

“Oh my stars, yes. They’re that perky.” I peeked from between my fingers to see if she was far enough away from me that I could breathe comfortably. Slowly, I removed my hands from my face once I was happy enough with the distance between my face and her chest.

“Just a question,” she started after she finished prodding her chest.

“If it’s about your boobs, I recues myself from answering the question on the grounds of severe trauma,” I hastily supplied.

“No, no. It’s about Clive. Is he handsome?” she asked sheepishly as she headed over toward my door and opened it. (Yes, I have a door and an elevator. I’ll explain later.)

I sighed. “Beyond supermodel gorgeous.”

“Hellfire and save matches,” she muttered awestruck.

I turned back to my television and continued to channel surf as I contiued, “I know. It’s sad really that such a fine specimen could-“

“A fine specimen you say?” a velvety smooth voice asked seductively. I blanched. Slowly, ever so slowly, I turned around to face the door. I nearly died. Standing at my door was none other than Alexander and if sexiness could kill, I’d happily be pushing up daisies. He was decked out in a charcoal pinstriped suit with a crisp white shirt and a pale blue paisley tie knotted with a full Windsor. His hair was slicked back but tousled ever so slightly that it just begged to be touched. And his eyes. My stars and stripes, his verdant eyes were enchanting. They glinted with a hint of mischief and seemed to radiate with electric currents.

"Oh my..." Catherine muttered as she took in the tall, sexy glass of water that was Alexander.

Alexander smirked impishly while he looked Cat over. My skin crawled with disgust. "And who are you?" he practically purred. I wanted to gag but all I could do was witness the scene unfolding before me.

Cat giggled like a complete fan girl for a second before turning on her vixen skills. Purring in response she replied, "I'm Catherine O'Shea. And you are?" She batted her lashes furiously, so much so I thought her eye lids were going to fly off.

He glanced at me for a nanosecond, a look of pure wickedness etched on his face. "I'm Clive Foxworthy."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Heyyyyyyyyyyy. Long time no update, huh?? Sorry about that. I kinda hit a wall with this story. It's not that I lost my passion for writing it. It was that I had so many ideas for it that I just needed to sit down and pick what I wanted to do and how I wanted things to go. So I am glad to say that I've got the majority of the plot nailed down! YAY!!! *happy dances crazily*

Oh and I'm sure you're all wondering what's gonna go down between Alexander and Veronica and Catherine. All I will say is that some of you will hate me and some of you will love me and some may even do both! Hew hew hew hew!

Stick around my lovelies... -TayCee;)