Little Favours

Chapter 7

Alisa's first photoshoot with Echo had wrapped up in success, leaving her on a high. Echo celebrated with an afterparty on the building's second-floor lounge, a massive space with floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the sparkling cityscape below. The night doubled as a welcome party for her and the other interns—four others had also been accepted. Staff members brought out bottles of booze, finger foods, and an impressive spread of charcuterie and desserts.

"Just sit back and relax," the editorial director himself had said with a haughty laugh, nodding to the interns as they sat near the bar.

Alisa found herself perched on a large bean bag, pressed close to Tom, who had claimed the spot beside her. The staff weren't shy about encouraging PDA, and she couldn't ignore the grins they shot in her direction as Tom adjusted his position, bringing her even closer until their thighs touched. The warmth of his leg radiated through her own, and their shoulders bumped with every shift.

Her pulse quickened and it wasn't just the proximity—it was the strange tension that had surfaced between them earlier in the studio. His teasing about her "nervousness" and the surprise mention of "terms and conditions" for their so-called fake relationship had her head spinning. She'd been professional, detached... she thought. But now, she was starting to wonder just how much he'd picked up on, despite her best efforts.

Lost in thought, she took a slow sip of beer. She needed to steer this ship back on course, fast.

"About earlier..." she began, nudging him slightly with her elbow.

He raised an eyebrow, casual as ever, and took another swig of his drink. "What about it?"

Alisa rolled her eyes, covering her mouth with her bottle as she spoke. "Haven't you watched enough romance movies to already know the rules of fake dating? By now, I thought it'd be common knowledge."

Tom's gaze sharpened, his eyes glinting with amusement as he set down his bottle. "Well, care to elaborate?"

Alisa bit her lip, mind racing. She hadn't thought about this at all. Just how far was she willing to go for this to all work?

Tom's eyes glinted, clearly relishing her hesitation. He leaned in, dropping his voice just a notch. "What's wrong? Thought you had it all figured out."

Alisa's fingers tightened around her bottle. "Well, there are... guidelines," she began, improvising on the spot. "You know, things to make it believable—but without crossing any... unnecessary lines."

"Unnecessary lines," Tom echoed. "Like what?"

"I-I don't know." She looked away, feigning thought, then blurted out, "It'll make people suspicious if we look too... invested."

"Sure." He nodded, expression neutral but eyes gleaming. "Anything else?"

Alisa hesitated, biting her lip again. She sighed, "Do what you must, just remember this. We're supposed to look convincing, but don't do anything that might... complicate things."

"Complicate things," he repeated, his voice low and almost mocking. "You mean, things that might make you second-guess if it's really just pretend?"

There he goes again. She narrowed her eyes. "I don't second-guess things, thank you very much."

Tom shrugged, finishing off his first bottle of beer, leaving his answer hanging in the air. A moment later, the staff arrived with a fresh bottle of tequila, and the table lit up with cheers. Alisa watched as the shots were poured, feeling the infectious energy fill the room. The first round went down smooth, laughter mixing with the bite of tequila, loosening everyone up as the easy rhythm of conversation took over.