Story Start, Jan.31, Mal's

As the sequin flowers glistened, it brought a tear to her eye and she thought to herself, "This is the world's cutest top." The jeans were perfect along with the shoes to die for. She wished more than anything that she had bought that purse the other day from Prada, bu no. Daddy wouldn't let her.
"Josie, come on we have to go. Now."
"Okay, okay I'm ready," she walked grandly out of her bedroom, larger than most people's homes, and struck an important pose so her mother could more easily look a the outfit she had expertly put together. "Am I not beautiful?"
He mother squealed, literally squealed. "Oh darling! You look magnificent!"
"I know," she beamed.
"I have taught you well, you'll be such a good trophy wife someday." the tears in her eyes proved that the title of 'trophy wife' was truly the title that she wanted her daughter to strive towards.
"Oh, you really think so?"
"Absolutely!" they air-hugged so as not to ruin one another's hair. "Come on now, we have to go meet your father at his office. It sounded important. Oh, I do hope he's getting a raise. I saw the most lovely little bag at Stacy's the other day. To die for!"
"OMG, I did too!"
The woman gasped, "Was it purple?"
"Yes! With little little gem stones along the bottom."
"That's the one I want too!"
"I see a matching outfit day coming up!" They both squealed excitedly. The shofer was waiting outside and close the door behind him. It was fashion talk, a sure sign of a dreadful drive. Charlent City was the largest in the county and one of the largest in the world, heavily populated and run by big shots who make a mockery of those down below. Since it was near the end of the lunch hour the streets were packed and the drive grew tiresome, both for passengers and driver.
"Mommy, I'm bored. Why is this taking so long."
"I don't drive, ask him," her impatience growing.
"There seems to be a large amount of traffic, ma'am. It's slowing us down we should be there before long."
"Good, because if I don't get out of this hell hole soon I'll-"
The woman's phone rang.
"Who is it Mommy?"
"Your father. Hello dear! Can I fire this driver?"
A man sighed through the speaker phone, "No, Marcy, you may not. He's a good man, why would you fire him?"
"This is taking forever, Daddy." Her shiny top and pout made her look dreadfully tacky. Like a disappointed Barbie.
"I know Josie, but nonetheless. How far out are you?"
Marcella held the phone towards the driver. "Perhaps another five minutes sir, no much more though," he answered.
"Good, good. Thank you. Now Marcy-"
"Yes love," she said cooing over the phone, imagining the purses in store for her.
He grummbled something and another voice snickered, "As soon as you get here come straight to my office, no lollygagging and socializing. This is very imporant and I want to get it over with."
"Of course dear," she heard the drained voice of her husband and images of shoes melted away. Bummer.
"Thank you." They hung up and Marcy angrily put the phone back in her purse.
"It doesn't sound like a raise, Mother," Josie whined.
"No it does not."
The two women left the car with low spirits and bored printed on their faces. The driver chuckled, it was a good look for them.

"It's Marcy and Josie, sir. Shall I let them in," the office woman said.
"Yes, yes, right away."
THe door opened and closed quickly leaving the two women dumbfounded by the door. "Definitely not a normal day in the office, Daddy?"
"You have no idea," he said rubbing the bridge of his nose.
He was tall, handsome and rich. Marcy had scored well. He was hardly home and never forgot a birday or aniversary, plenty of time just for herself and her daughter. "What's wrong dear," she asked with an airy voice.
"I think we need to talk," he sounded sick and ever looked discolored.
"What about," she asked suddenly nervous. Her husband wasn't the sort to make mistakes, when obviously he had. This could be bad, very very bad.
"Yeah and who's that," Josie said pointing her fing like a two year old though she was nearly 17.
"Name's Lonnie." She dressed dark and had a voice like frozen chocolate, it sent shivvers up the spine of many a weak person.
"Who is this, Alen."
He looked from the two blondes by the door to the brunett sitting across from him. "Just tell them," the so called Lonnie said. "It's not going to be easy any way you try."
He still looked sick. "This is my ohter daughter, Macry."
Marcy cocked an eyebrow at him, "You've been having an ffair?"
"Yes," he said quietly.
All was quiet.


"Well why are you so upset then," Macry asked loudly. "It's not a big deal."
They all stared at her. "What," he asked.
"You thought I would care? Pfft. I bang other men all the time, dear. It's part of beign rich."
He reeled back, then frowned at her. "This doesn't bother you?"
"No", she answered sitting in one of the big arm chairs. "so long as I don't have to deal with the products, go for it."
"I have a sister," Josie pipped quietly.
"Yes, I suppose you do."
She squealed. "Oh we are going to have so much fun!" She was jumping up and down.
Alen sat back heavily. "Neither of you care? At all?"
"No," Marcy said.
"I'm excited," Josie said.
"Wow." He was exhausted, relieved, and confused all at once.



There is more to this post but it was long. If you want the rest let me know in your comment, however. I might post what I have. Maybe. Maybe not.