A MISGIVING

The ease with which Jacqueline Manceaux breezed through life

provided a perpetual source of annoyance for Denise. She shone like the

sun, even in her darkest hours, and to be fair, she had more than her fair

share of them. Denise strove not to take any sort of snide comfort in the

misfortune that often befell Jacquí, as she was affectionately called by the

hordes of her closest friends.

In contrast, Denise felt like an ogre in Jacquí's company. On those

rare days when she felt well above average on the attractiveness scale,

Jacquí would arrive at the office in a sleek and stylish new designer suit and

steal what little attention Denise hoped to garner. The leggy blonde

epitomized sexy and had enough smarts not to need good looks to succeed

in the business world. To add insult to injury, she had the nerve to be one of

the nicest people Denise had ever met. No one, not even Mother Teresa,