My morning started the same way it had last week—on standby for any extra tasks—except today I had to be in a bit earlier. I loved Summer, but her constant questioning about Bash, as if I were hiding something, was starting to get on my nerves. So when she told me last night that Andre had flown in and booked an Airbnb in the Valley, I was relieved to see her out—though tempted by her last-minute offer for me to fly into Vegas.
The only times I'd been to Vegas were business trips. It would be nice to visit for leisure for once. At least she was finally on my side about one thing: my boss was definitely overreacting and going nuts. She thought it was because I decided to leave so suddenly. I would have agreed with her one hundred percent if it weren't for recent events. He didn't like me in that way. But there was a motive to his strange behavior.
Before Summer left in her Uber, she told me to give back that dog-collar gift (which was hilarious because it was from Tiffany's) and promised she would collect all the touristy trinkets to send me if I couldn't make it to the ceremony.
As soon as I entered Sera Elganza, I headed to the break room, made my coffee, and expected silence as I walked to my desk. Instead, each coworker I passed congratulated me. On what? They didn't say. Just as I was about to dismiss it, Cherry appeared at my office door and whispered:
"Congratulations on your date. Tell me about it later."
She slipped out with a double wink and a mischievous smile.
Holy crap. Date? Which date is she talking about?
I was too stunned to move—too nervous to leave my office. I shut my blinds as soon as I could breathe again, then closed the door. Better to stay oblivious to the comments. If I didn't address them, the whole thing would be categorized as a rumor—and usually a new one always took its place.
By 11:30 a.m., I was ready to head out for the event, but I'd been so uptight I forgot I had planned to drop off Mr. Fabrizi's jacket in his office. Luckily, everyone was already preparing to leave, so it was the perfect opportunity to slip in unnoticed.
I was shocked to see Cherry and Liam out of the corner of my eye, peering into the office just as I set the jacket down. I was about to call out, but they had vanished. Why does it feel like I'm doing something scandalous? I've been in this office alone before.
Get it together, Marcie. Stop overthinking, I told myself as I typed the address into my phone: Beverly Hills Garden Park.
The photographers were already there, looking like they taught the master class for their profession. Mats of sports equipment and props were spread across the lawn. One photographer was showing a tech-department coworker how to hit a volleyball. Across the park, another fashion house was waiting. Nylon Skins.
The whole event was strategic. Sera Elganza was launching a new line of women's sports bras, while Nylon Skins was collaborating with new athletic shoes for the shoot. I couldn't promise I'd look athletic in photos, but hopefully I'd end up in the background of most of them.
"Remember, have fun and give it your all. Let my camera team handle the edits. It shouldn't be hard—everyone's looking great today," an older man with a goatee shouted.
I nodded as someone from the Nylon team jogged over and handed me a pair of their new shoes.
"You put on the form we sent last week that you're a size eight, right?"
"Nope. I'm a seven."
"My apologies," he said, hurrying back to fetch another pink pair.
I couldn't help watching his face as he ran. He looked like a bulkier version of Bash—just as attractive.
"Here you go. Sorry again."
I smiled down at him as he set the sneakers beside my flats. Then he grabbed my ankle, trying to help me into the shoe.
"Um, excuse me?"
He bolted upright, horrified. "I'm sorry! I—I didn't mean to. I'm so used to being the assistant and helping out with everything. I really didn't mean to."
Oh, poor thing. Another slave assistant, just like me.
"No, it's fine. I'm Sera Elganza's secretary and assistant too—for pretty much everything. So I get it."
"Oh, okay," he said, still blushing. "It should be fun today. Our team never has outings like this. Usually, they hire models. But I guess the higher-ups wanted more authenticity this time."
A thud rang out as a volleyball bounced off the side of my head.
"Waiting for you two," Grant called from across the garden, nudging Mr. Fabrizi with his elbow as if he'd told the biggest joke.
We separated quickly—me to Sera Elganza's side, him to Nylon Skins'. Once I stood between Liam and Robert, the so-called game plan was explained, which I thought was absurd since this was technically a photoshoot.
"Focus on winning. All women, stay in the middle," Mr. Fabrizi instructed, eyeing the "competition" across the lawn.
"Wait, why do all the women have to stay in the middle?" Cherry protested, though her question was useless.
"Just strategy, Ms. Stanz."
I rolled my eyes as the rest of the overly detailed plan unfolded. I was basically Mr. Fabrizi's external hard drive at this point. I knew exactly why he wanted all the women in the middle: distraction. As long as he didn't expect us to bend over or flip our hair like middle schoolers, I'd be fine.
"But isn't this about taking good photos? I don't want to get sweaty trying to win," Cherry added.
"That's what losers say. Now, Team Elganza—let's win this!"
I stepped in front of a pouting Cherry, who muttered complaints under her breath. Good thing Grant, our boss's third ear, wasn't around to hear. I wasn't one to complain. If it meant winning, I wasn't one to back down. And like I said, I knew Mr. Fabrizi's thought process. Whoever led us to victory would be rewarded once we got back to work.