You Ought to Smile More

Caprice Alessandra Mateo. My full birth given name. My mom named me Caprice, meaning impulsive, because I made her go into labor almost half a month early. Then she named me Alessandra, meaning defender or protector, because she said that one day I would have to protect the one dearest to me. So together I create an impulsive protector… But you know how those crazy Italian women can get in their old age.

My mom and dad died almost 3 years ago in an explosion that went off in the bank they were in. I was 20 then and now I’m 23. I’m the founder and boss of the popular magazine called Vintage. I started the idea back in high school and when I was 19, I ran it by another magazine editor and he really liked it.

I teamed up with Todd Willis, the editor, and together we created Vintage from scratch. It contains a wide variety of the latest fashions both cheap and expensive. None of that celebrity crap. It helps teen girls and boys find their own look and feel comfortable with their own clothing.

My phone started buzzing in my pocket and I pulled it out and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Caprice, Baby, where are you?” Todd asked in his thick English accent.

“I’m stuck in traffic, but I’ll be there soon. Tell Alice I want my coffee waiting for me on my desk. She knows how I like it,” I hung up with him and finished the drive from my penthouse to the office.

Bill, our door man, greeted me and held the door open for me as I walked it. It was nearing Christmas and the chilly air was all over. I sighed in relief when I walked inside the building and felt warmth wash over me.

“Caprice!” Todd was by my side in a flash. He was holding up one of our competitor’s magazines.

“The Red Carpet Magazine has one of our styles plastered on their front page. We’re about to do the photo shoot, but if we go through with it, it will look like we copied them.

“Well, we’ll just have to change our look then.” I walked into my office and took a sip of the coffee on my desk. Alice was very reliable.

“Get me the model in here and the closest rack of clothing.” I ordered and looked at The Red Carpet’s cover in disgust. The founder, Rosalina, is my biggest rival in the fashion world.

“Here she is,” Todd said walking in with a teenage girl behind him. I picked up the magazine and held it up so I could see our model compared to Rosalina’s. They were very similar in their looks; long wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Someone leaked it out…

The model was wearing a light purple dress that went down to her knees and flared out a little at the bottom. The v-neck wasn’t too risky, but still flattered her.

I walked over to the rack of clothing and pulled a bright purple, woman’s overcoat of the hanger and made her put it on. Too much purple… My eyes latched onto a bright green, neon belt and I made her put it on over the coat. Now you could see the bottom of the dress and the very top. I actually liked the outfit better with the coat and belt.

“Todd,” I said. He popped up beside me and examined the new outfit.

“Nice color choices,” he said and nodded for the model to leave and go back to the shoot. Todd sat down in front of my desk and I sat down in my chair.

“Someone is leaking out ideas to Rosalina.” I stated and drink more coffee. Todd nodded.

“I figured that much, but who would actually try to betray the Great Caprice Alessandra Mateo?!” he questioned. I smiled lightly at him for trying to make me feel better.

The fashion industry comes with lots of stress and even more lies and betrayal. Todd left to go supervise the rest of the shoot and I stayed in my office going over all the employees I had and which of them could have spilled the beans.

~*~

The Joker looked at his men, glaring each and every one of them down. He carefully spun his gun around on his pointer finger and walked up and down the line he had his men assembled in.

“One of you has betrayed me.” he stated. Most of the men flinched in fear because they all know about his bipolar mood swings and his outbursts which lead to the death for some.

“It has come to my attention that someone here has been going behind my back and working with Salvatore Maroni…” he continued. One boy caught his eye, one of his newest recruits. Mason or something other. The Joker could care less about his name.

The boy was shaking head to toe causing The Joker to grin in delight. He loved the feeling of having someone cower in fear just because he got a little mad.

“Mason, how old are you?” the boy didn’t look at him at first, but soon realized he was being spoken to.

“My name is Matthew and I’m 19,” he said in a steady voice. The Joker relaxed his face and nodded. The boy had at least some balls to correct The Joker on his name.

“How long have you been working under me?” he asked running one of his gloved fingers over the nozzle of his hand gun.

“Almost 4 months, Boss,” he nodded again.

“Do you know who has been going around behind my back?” he asked in a sickly sweet voice. Matthew breathed in deeply, his eyes shooting a quick glance at a man on the other side of the room. Everyone knew who was betraying the Joker, but no one wanted to be the tattletale.

“Remember, if I catch you lying to me, you’ll be dead too,” The Joker growled lowly. Matthew gulped and nodded once, wiping the few beads of sweat that had formed on his upper brow.

“Uh Konnor,” he mumbled. In one swift movement, The Joker flicked his wrist and shot Konnor between the eyes. The rest of the men stayed silent and Matthew breathed in relief.

The Joker laughed loudly at his actions and placed the gun under Matthew’s jaw. He smiled ruefully like he was mocking the young boy.

“What?” Matthew asked panicked by the metal digging into his skin.

“Shh, I can't keep someone around who will squeal so easily,” The Joker said in a baby like voice. Another shot was fired and Matthew fell to the ground dead. Putting the gun away, The Joker turned back to his seemingly unfazed men.

“Clean this up; I don’t want the place reeking of dead bodies,”