The Imperfect Match

chapter 3

I stand in my living room, my yoga mat laid out on the polished hardwood floor. The morning sun streams in through the floor-to-ceiling windows as I try to block out the taunting, challenging words Eli said to me that day.

Welcome aboard, Alison.

They have haunted me ever since.

In the middle of my morning Pilates routine, I focus on my breathing and fluid movements, my mind drifting to the events of the past few weeks. Since signing the contract with Eli's fashion house, I've been caught up in press conferences, photoshoots, and meetings. It's been non-stop work, so having this morning to myself feels like a rare gift. Just as I'm finishing my routine, Gaby enters the room, her face creased with concern.

I pause mid-stretch. "What's wrong?" I straighten up, wiping the sweat from my brow with a towel.

She thrusts her phone at me. "Look at this! Remember that photoshoot you did last week? Tasha practically copied the same thing as your last post on Instagram, right down to the caption!"

I squint at the screen. The picture Tasha posted on her Instagram is exactly like mine: same pose, same background scenery, and same caption.

I'm not surprised. This isn't the first time she has done this, and it doesn't piss me off. We're both from the same agency, so it's easier for her to know my plans. She has it in her head that we're in some sort of competition with each other, so she tries to outdo me in everything she does. It's pathetic. Even the fans notice, but it doesn't seem to bother her.

"Well, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

"I'm just so sick of her. Her post got a lot more attention than yours did," Gaby remarks, scrolling through the comments.

"That's the whole point," I reply, trying to sound unfazed.

"I don't know how you're so calm. I'd be mad."

"Because this is the least she can do in an attempt to hurt me."

"Maybe we should play her game, see if she likes it."

"I'm very capable of stooping low, but I won't waste my energy on Tasha. I have other things to look forward to. Has my dress come?"

She nods. "Yeah, it's in your room. I just don't understand why you won't wear the clothes LuxeVerve sent you. You know you have to wear the brand if you're going to the gala later."

"True, but they never said I couldn't wear anything else."

As Gaby hands me back the phone, her expression turns serious. "Ever since we left that day, I've felt there's something fishy going on you're not telling me."

I avoid her gaze. "There's nothing."

"I saw the way you looked at him," she continues.

"Hopefully it looked like I was plotting murder," I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

She points at my face. "That's it right there! That is something! Are we going to be in deep shit, Allie?"

"Of course not." I walk to the counter to pick up my water, my movements deliberate yet tense.

Gaby follows me. "Then tell me if we're going to have a problem with our new partner. Appearances matter, Allie, and LuxeVerve is not a company we should mess with. We already signed a contract."

"I just..." I pause, taking a sip of water to collect my thoughts, my fingers trembling slightly as I grip the bottle.

"You just..." Her voice is insistent, her posture leaning slightly forward.