Chapter 29

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Thanks to those pictures of Liam and me kissing in Central Park, there was a mob of photogs waiting for me outside my apartment building this morning. I could hardly walk down the sidewalk, forget about snapping any of my own shots of actual celebrities. Alanis Morissette couldn't write irony this good.

It's a relief to have a break from all the chaos this afternoon. Agnes has us interns working in the office, stuffing gift bags for the StarTracker party, which The Huntley Agency sponsors every summer.

Unfortunately, I can't seem to keep myself from glancing up at the scoreboard every few minutes. No matter how many times I look at it, though, the numbers don't change. Chrissy's officially tied me for the lead. The pictures she took of Liam and me in Bethesda Terrace sold for so much money, she easily closed the gap between us.

To add insult to my already smarting ego, Agnes refused to award me any points for them, saying, "You obviously weren't staging shots for the other photographers since you were hiding from them."

I couldn't argue with that. Helping Huntley sell photographs was the last thing on my mind when I was with Liam last night. But Agnes didn't mention any stipulations when we made our deal, so I don't think she's being entirely fair.

Chrissy keeps smiling in this self-satisfied way as we sit on Agnes's office floor, shoving one absurdly valuable item after another into the glittery, silver bags. It used to baffle me that celebs would want to attend an event thrown by a tabloid magazine. But after seeing what goes into these bags, it's no wonder. The swag is worth at least twenty grand. Tyler legit fell off his chair when Agnes pulled out a box of diamond Cartier rings. And that isn't even the swankiest thing in there.

There are private safaris, levitating blue tooth speakers, certificates for a year's supply of luxury cosmetics, underarm sweat patches—which I'd never heard of before but totally want to try—and so much more. If someone was going to give me a bag like this, I'd show up to their party, regardless of how annoying I thought they were.

"Quite frankly, Philip, that's a bullshit offer." The bite in Agnes's words has me grateful I'm not on the receiving end of that phone call. "We both know I can sell these photos for four times as much to magazines whose editors haven't decided to shove their heads up their own asses this morning."

Chrissy catches my eye and mouths, "Yikes," as she stuffs gift certificates into the row of bags spread across the floor in front of her. That's the closest she's come to speaking to me since I blocked her shots that night when we left the Rainbow Room. I'd be relieved if I didn't know her sudden change of heart was due to her new standing on the leaderboard.

The idea of having less drama at work is definitely appealing. Dealing with Elodie being mad at me is enough to keep my stomach in almost constant knots. She was so distant with me when I stopped by Jitters this morning, I didn't dare mention the change in my feelings about Liam. I'm sure she's seen the photos of that kiss, but she doesn't know it was real. Not sharing something like that with my best friend makes me feel off-kilter. It's almost like it didn't really happen until I can tell her about it.

"Say one more number like that, and I swear to God, I'm hanging up this phone and calling TMZ." Agnes smacks a hand on her desk, and we all jump.

My phone dings. I'm quick to silence it, not wanting to bring Agnes's wrath down on me. She's so engrossed in her conversation though, she doesn't notice. I sneak a peek at it, keeping it out of her line of sight. I register Liam's name on the screen, and it's like someone let a pinball loose inside my chest.

Liam: Do you have plans tomorrow night?

A smile spreads across my lips. I put a hand over my mouth to hide it, but the giddiness that fills me at the idea of seeing Liam has me beaming like a spotlight.

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