Not If I Date You First

Chapter 9

ADA

The automatic coffee machine drones in the empty break room. Huntley's staff photographers are all out doorstepping, waiting for celebs to leave their penthouses so they can get their shots for the day. I'm re-posting some of my pictures of Liam and Mia to social media and watching my follower counts skyrocket as I keep one eye fixed on Agnes's office door.

She's been in there for over an hour, selling the pictures we took at the park this morning. I uncross and re-cross my legs beneath the table, mentally running through what I'm going to say. I'll stage as many shots as it takes if she gives me points for them. Especially since Liam—for whatever reason—seems cooperative.

I don't know why he put on such a show for the cameras, but he certainly gave me the perfect opportunity to pitch my plan to Agnes. Her door swings open, and I jump to my feet, almost tripping over the chair leg.

Swiping my bag off the table, I dart into the hallway. "Agnes, do you have a second?"

She glances over at me, pushing her glasses on top of her hair "Miss Datchery? I thought you'd be out chasing stars by now."

"I had an idea I wanted to talk to you about first."

"An idea?"

I nod, crossing my fingers inside my fists.

"Come in then." Agnes tilts her head back toward her office. She vanishes inside with a resigned sigh. Following, I take a seat across from her. The chair looks like it would be comfortable with its black leather cushions, but it's surprisingly stiff.

Where most people have framed photos of friends or family decorating their office walls, Agnes has shots of herself with various celebs: Halle Berry, Jennifer Aniston, and Denzel Washington. A collection of awards litter the credenza behind her, winking in the sunlight that filters through the window.

I read the engraving on one. 'Top Producing Agent 2022—The Huntley Agency.' It's obvious Agnes is a career-driven person. I wonder what her life's like outside work.

Agnes folds her arms over the desk, hoisting an expectant eyebrow at me. Now that I'm sitting here, everything I planned to say has fallen out of my brain. My tongue is thick and clumsy.

Touching the screen of her phone, Agnes not-so-subtly checks the time.

Spit it out already, Ada.

I fight through my panic and attempt to gather the shreds of my self-confidence. "So, um, how did the shots from the park sell?"

Taking a sip from her thermos, Agnes settles back in her chair. The smell of stale coffee drifts through the room. "Your photos sold quite well." Agnes nods toward a whiteboard, which fills one of the walls.

She's written our names on the side in big letters with our scores next to it.

Ada: 16

Chrissy: 11

Tyler: 8

I have a decent lead, but the others are closing in more quickly than I imagined. All the more reason I need to sell Agnes on this plan.

"I actually meant the pictures the other interns took. The ones of Liam and me together."

"Oh." Agnes blinks. She waves a hand at the scoreboard. "Those ones did very well. As you can see."

"That's what I was hoping. I, um..." I grit my teeth, forcing the words out. "I staged those photos on purpose so Chrissy and Tyler could get the shots."