Not If I Date You First

Chapter 7

"I know." She glances around, looking for a place to sit. There are clothes strewn across my bed, the desk chair, and most of the floor. The collection of classic movies I inherited from Grams has exceeded the limits of my bookshelf. Stacks of DVDs litter the floor in front of it.

"You should try cleaning up sometime."

"Hey, I'm a creative type. Being messy is one of our personality traits. Google it." I scoop the clothes off the chair and dump them in my closet, so she has somewhere to sit.

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that." She examines the floor-to-ceiling corkboard hanging on my wall.

It's crowded with pictures, mostly of celebs at premieres, but there's also some of my family. Aiden playing video games, headset on, expression fierce. Mom in some intense yoga pose with her leg extended back, arching above her head. Dad sitting in the soft glow of the living room lamp, grading papers. Selfies of Elodie and me are scattered everywhere—us at the Empire State Building, us at Rockefeller Center, us sprawled out on my bed with mint-green face masks on. And there's Grams doing jazz hands and posing for the camera, right at the heart of it all.

I wish my memories of her were as vivid as that shot. The images in my mind seem to fade a little more every day, but that photograph is as brilliant as it was when I took it. That's the great thing about pictures; they're forever. People could still be looking at the shots I took of Mia and Liam decades from now.

"I want to know everything," Elodie says, spinning my chair backward and plopping down.

"About what?" I take a bite of my muffin, and OMG. I could write poetry about this muffin.

"Gee, I don't know." She taps a finger against her bottom lip. "Let's start with the rumors that my Paparazzi Queen best friend is dating the Liam Anders!"

"Thanks for the nickname, by the way." I set my muffin on my nightstand and flop face-first on the bed, groaning into my pillow.

"It's so ridiculous." I roll over on my back. "How can anyone seriously believe the two of us would ever date? He's a celebrity. I'm a paparazzo. We're, like, sworn enemies or something. Montague and Capulet status."

"So you're saying the two of you are what? Star-crossed lovers?" Elodie grins, and I immediately regret my choice of metaphors. "Because I can totally see it," she says. "There was some serious romantic tension happening between you this morning."

"Elodie!" I snap, sitting up. "That wasn't romantic tension. It was just...tension."

Any swoony-eyed, fangirl feelings I had for Liam Anders disappeared the second he opened his mouth.

"I don't knooow," she sing-songs. "I think I might've witnessed your meet cute."

"Meet cute? More like meet puke. What is wrong with you?" I toss a pillow at her. She laughs, ducking out of the way.

"It would be so awesome if you dated a celeb. I'm just saying," she says like that's actually a valid argument.

"Well, stop saying. If you hadn't brought me a delicious muffin, I would totally unfriend you. You know I'm not interested in dating."

Grams always told me that if I wanted to make my dreams come true, then I needed to focus on achieving my goals first and not think about guys until after. Her biggest regret was that she skipped an audition to go on a date with the man who became my grandfather. They weren't together long enough for him to see my dad being born, and the actor who was cast in that role instead of Grams won an Oscar only ten years later. Grams didn't want anything like that to happen to me.

"So, does your new boss love you since you're all famous now?" Elodie asks.

"Hardly. I'm surprised she didn't fire me for showing up late."

"Those pictures of you two have got to be selling like crazy. There's no way she's going to fire you."

"Yeah, but Huntley didn't sell those photos, so they're not doing me any good."

My phone bleeps with the tone I set up especially for Agnes. I lunge forward, snatching it from the bed. It's a group text to me and two numbers I don't recognize—I'm guessing they belong to the other interns.

Agnes: Cipher cast rumored to go running in Central Park in the AM. Get me those shots.

Great. Running and another potential encounter with Liam. Sounds like tomorrow's gonna be as painful as today was.

"My boss wants me to get pictures of the Cipher actors tomorrow." I bury my face in my hands and moan. "What am I going to do if someone takes more photos of Liam and me together? My parents are already freaking out."

"They'll get over it." Elodie picks at her shimmery blue nail polish. "I don't understand what the problem is. It seems like having your picture in tabloids should score you some major bonus points."

Bonus points. Her words flip on a light switch in my brain.

Bonus points are exactly what I need to guarantee I come out ahead of the other interns. And Elodie's right about the photos of Liam and me selling like crazy. Those pictures are everywhere. If I could run into Liam again and somehow stage it to encourage the rumors, the rags would snatch the photos up. And if I made sure Huntley got the shots, Agnes might be willing to give me points for the ones that sell. That's more than worth having to deal with my overprotective parents.

"Elodie, you're a genius."

"Obviously. But why specifically?"

"You just gave me an idea about how I can make this bonkers situation work in my favor."

"Well, you're welcome." She reaches into the bag, pulls out a muffin, and takes a huge bite.

"All I've got to do is find Liam tomorrow, get the other interns to take some shots of us together, and figure out how to make it look like he doesn't loathe my very existence."

"Piece of cake," Els says around a mouthful of muffin.

I grip the charm of my necklace between my fingers. I could really use some more of that luck, Grams.