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Chapter 1

There's nothing like winter in New York. The whole city morphs itself into something more beautiful, radiant, it turns into a wonderland decorated by a glowing, white cover. Even the snow shines in New York, capturing its absolute beauty. During the winter, it's always dark here, especially with all these trees surrounding us, so they never turn the street lamps off. Among the trees, whose thin, bald branches are covered in snow, they look like giant fireflies. I move through Central Park, heading straight towards my favorite bagel cart, where the dough is extra mushy and extra, extra greasy. Locals call it one-step-closer-to-the-heart-attack cart, but I figure there are worse things that can cause a heart attack than breakfast with few calories more than a breakfast should have.

I've replaced heels with boots, for which I'm grateful for, since I've never been a big fan of heels. No ones feet should bend like that - it's unnatural. But they're considered a proper footwear of every professional woman, so it's not like I have much choice, until weather does its magic and I'm back in my warm, fuzzy Jimmy Choo boots.

There's already a line of people in front of the bagel cart, so I take a sip of my too-hot-to-drink coffee to warm myself up, and I burn the tip of my tongue. Totally worth it, though. I'm a coffee addict, always have been, and for a girl who comes from one Starbucks town, moving in to a city where they offer you coffee on every corner is a dream come true.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't be honest at all," my editor says with a squeaky voice over the phone, "All I'm saying is that you should be less honest."

One of winter setbacks - gloves. My damn phone keeps slipping out of my hand.

I cock my eyebrow when her words hit my brain in their full extent. "Meaning?" I ask, but at the same time trying to tell the guy I'll have one bagel. He seems to get it. Maybe he's already remembered me, I'm here every morning for the past two years, but then again, so are many other people.

I can hear her sigh, tired of having this conversation with me time after time after time. "You're not a columnist, Elena," she points out, and I add quietly - yet. If she heard me, she doesn't comment on it. "No one cares about your opinion. No one cares what you think about it. All they care about are facts. That's what they expect when they open the magazine."

I take the bagel and give the guy two bucks, mouthing a low thank you to him, with a smile on my face. He nods. He's probably used to people on their phones, unable to communicate with him normally.

I have some trouble with juggling my phone, coffee cup and a bagel in my hands, so I keep my phone pressed between my shoulder and my ear until I find a more comfortable solution.

"So, what you're saying is that I should do my job like some mindless robot?"

"Exactly!" a wave of surprise erupts from her, pleased that we're finally on the same page. I roll my eyes. I should really work on my sarcasm some more. "When are you going to be at the office?"

"Umm, ten minutes, tops." I hope. If I don't get a strong urge to run into a moving bus on my way over there.

"Excellent! I have to go now, but I'll send you your text back with everything that needs correcting. I expect you to do it by tonight?" that sentence sounds like a question, but she's not really asking.

"Of course." What other choice do I have? It's not like I can tell my boss I won't do it, not unless I want to keep my job.

She says goodbye to me, but hangs up before I get a chance to reply. I exhale, slipping my phone in my bag, munching on my bagel, which is not as half as delicious now that I have all this anger and annoyance hanging over my head. Great, she didn't only ruin my mood, she ruined food for me as well. When does it stop?