Only Fools Rush In (And I Ain't No Fool)

It was complete. After weeks of pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into my writing, my article was finally finished. I slipped them into an envelope and mailed it to New York, where the Ruby headquarters were. Not even a minute later and the phone rang. I picked it up to hear Ming Su's cheerful voice on the other end telling me they loved my writing and wanted me to work for them, no resume needed.

In shock and excitement I pulled out my best silk dress from my wardrobe and took the plane tickets that materialized out of nowhere and headed straight for the Venus office. After Mr. Anderson got a good look at me he dropped to his knees and burst into tears, pulling a monogrammed handkerchief out of his pocket and blowing his nose in the most unflattering way. Pulling my hand away from his insistent kisses, I wished him farewell and hopped on a plane to New York. There the company welcomed me with roses and tea which I chugged heartily.

A woman stepped out of nowhere with a man on her arm. It was Ming Su, tall and elegant. Her heels clacked against the floor and demanded attention. The man held a giant check for way more than Mr. Anderson ever cared to pay me. They shook my hand and a photographer came by to take our photo with the comically large check. Confetti rained down from the ceiling along with colorful balloons and flower petals. Peter ran up to me and picked me up in a warm hug, my cat Sapphire rubbing herself against my legs, meowing.

Someone took my hand. I couldn't see who it was but they led me to a secluded garden inside the airport with blue herons and butterflies. They turned around and there stood Angus, holding a tiny box in his hands. After dropping to one knee, he opened the box. My heart pounded in my chest with anticipation. There was a ring alright, but it wasn't the kind I expected.

I woke with a start in my hotel bed, reaching out blindly for someone to hold on to. Angus had vanished along with everyone else. I was alone with a bedhead and a crick in my neck. Realizing it had all just been a dream, I grumbled to myself and ripped the telephone off the hook.

"Yes, Peter, what is it?"

I waited moodily for Peter to speak up as he was the only one of the group who knew the phone number. Instead I was met with silence and an eerie hint of breathing on the other end. Chills went down my spine and my exciting dream disappeared from thought.

"Peter....? Is that you...?"

In an instant I flew off the bed in a tangle of sheets as the loudest air horn blared in my ear. The telephone went crashing to the ground, nearly bringing the whole nightstand with it. I hit my head on the wall, the carpet underneath my bare legs scraping my skin. Very faintly I could hear the sound of laughter seeping out through the phone. Grabbing it angrily, I held it against my ear and heard Peter laughing his head off.

"APRIL FOOLS!" he yelled.

"Peter Feldman, you're dead!" I yelled back but he didn't seem to hear me and hung up. Slamming the phone back on the cradle I stood from the floor in a crazy amount of pain. Head throbbing, neck stinging, and heart cracking, I groaned remembering what day it was. None other than Peter's favorite holiday, April Fool's Day.

Otherwise known as my least favorite.

My foot tapped against the pavement, my arms crossed. Peter swaggered up to me with the goofiest smile on his goofy face, swinging a chain of keys around his finger. "You know you love me," he said.

"You're just lucky we're in public," I said, my hair sticking up in all directions and my clothes frumpy. The cherry red Ferrari parked haphazardly by the curb caught my attention. "What's that?"

"That," Peter said, puffing his chest out. "Is our ride to the studio." I scoffed in disbelief.

"You don't drive a Ferrari."