ADA

"Am I paying you to take photographs of celebrities or to be besties with them?" Agnes shoots me a death stare from over the rim of her coffee mug.

Chrissy turned in a photo of me very deliberately blocking her shot when Faye tripped outside Rockefeller Plaza. I knew she was competitive, but I didn't realize she was also a tattletale. I'd expect that from Tyler or one of Huntley's staff photographers, but not Chrissy. She must really be pissed at me. Agnes came unglued when she saw it.

My fingers fiddle with the lid of my to-go cup as I twist it in my hands.

Agnes shakes her head at me. "I need pictures with wow factor. Pictures that'll make someone pause while scrolling through social media because they have to know the story behind them. Pictures that'll make someone pick up a tabloid they see on the rack at the grocery store."

She jabs a finger at the photograph. "This would have been one of those photos if you hadn't taken it upon yourself to run interference. What were you thinking?"

The glare she fires at me is searing. I'm surprised my frappuccino doesn't melt.

I stopped at Jitters on my way here to apologize to Elodie again. She didn't say much in the Uber on the way home from the Rainbow Room, but she was perfectly chipper this morning. Almost too chipper. I'm worried about her.

"I'm sorry," I say, glancing up at the hard lines framing Agnes's mouth. "I wasn't thinking."

Pfft. She snorts in agreement.

"It was just—I don't know—an instinct. When someone falls in front of you, you help them. It's automatic or something."

Chrissy and Tyler are staring at me blank-faced like they have no idea what I'm talking about.

"And did those instincts of yours also tell you to sabotage your coworker's shots? Cause if that's the game you're playing then you're at the wrong agency. Huntley's success needs to be the top priority of every employee. Not juvenile drama."

"Of course not," I say quickly. "I would never sabotage someone."

At least, I don't think I would. Everything happened so fast, even I can't fully explain why I did it.

"I certainly hope not, Miss Datchery. We don't tolerate that kind of behavior here."

"It won't happen again. I swear."

"It better not. Otherwise, you're done. Understand?"

I nod mutely.

"Please at least tell me you're making progress on the Liam situation." Agnes presses her fingertips against her eyelids like my incompetence is exhausting.

My stomach bottoms out. I definitely have not made any progress on the Liam situation. It's not like I can just ask him why he punched that photog last year. He'd never tell me.

"Um..." I try to think of an explanation that won't give Agnes another reason to fire me but come up empty.

Agnes throws her hands up in exasperation. "I told you if you brought me photos exposing Liam's story you'd have a guaranteed position with this agency. If that isn't enough motivation, then frankly, I'm not convinced you want this job."

"I do." I clap a hand to my chest." Agnes, I care about this job more than anything."

"I'm waiting for evidence of that. You've had plenty of opportunities." Agnes starts ticking things off on her fingers. "You ate dinner together, you went rock climbing together, you even kissed each other for Christ's sake. Are you telling me in all that time, you didn't manage to get any useful information?"

"Well," I twirl my charm between my fingers, "he did tell me he's going along with the whole fake dating thing because directors think he's unwilling to work with the press."

"And?"

"And that's all I have so far," I mumble.

Agnes frowns at me, unimpressed.

"Excuse me, Agnes?" Chrissy interrupts. "If someone else were to bring you shots revealing the truth about whatever it is Liam's hiding, would you be willing to guarantee them a position?"

A gasp lodges in my chest. I've sacrificed my privacy for this opportunity. I've had my picture plastered across more magazines and websites than I can count. I've fought with my parents over it. My dad almost had a stroke when the shots of Liam and me kissing on that carousel popped up in his Facebook feed. I'm not letting Chrissy take this from me.

Agnes scrutinizes her for a beat, before nodding. "That would only be fair."

"But Agnes," I splutter, "you put me on the Cipher actors. This is my assignment."

Sighing wearily, Agnes says, "And until you start doing it, I'm afraid you're going to have some competition."

Staggered, I look over at Chrissy. The grin stretching across her face makes my blood sizzle.

My phone dings at the same time Agnes's does. I don't dare check mine right now, but Agnes reaches for hers, sliding her glasses back into place.

"Looks like you've got another chance to begin proving yourself." She jerks her head toward me. "Liam posted that he's headed to the gym over on Greenwich Street."

I'm on my feet before she finishes the sentence, swinging my bag over my shoulder. "On it."

Chrissy hops up too.

"Oh, no, Miss Sanderson." Agnes motions for her to take her seat. "You can pursue Liam's story on your own time. On my time, you need to focus on your own assignments."

It's all I can do to keep from yelling, 'Booyah' in Chrissy's face. At least, I still have one small advantage.

Chrissy plops down in her chair, eyes fixed on me. Her expression is cool, calculating. I can practically hear her plotting ways to take me down. I give her the most sugary smile I can muster and turn on my heel, hustling out of the room.

My cell dings again as I stride down the hallway, barely avoiding a collision with a group of photographers who bolt out of the break room. I glance down at my phone but pick up the pace in case they're going after Liam too.

Elodie: Latte art throw down in Gramercy tonight. Come cheer me on?

Me: I'll be there! Text me the address.

My shoulders sag in relief. Going to Elodie's throw down will give me the chance to make up for acting like the world's worst friend.

Now I just need to figure out how I'm going to uncover Liam's secret, so I can land this job before Chrissy can steal it out from under me.