Alyson Noel - Unrivalled

Ira had cast a wide net of looks and ethnicities. Six girls and six guys—not a single one over the age of nineteen. Guess he wasn’t joking when he said he was after a young, hot demographic of club goers.

Aster settled among them, making a point to avoid Layla, who she’d already deemed as the first to take down—and waited for what happened next. Unlike the earlier waiting room, this new room was silent. Probably because they were no longer potential comrades—they were now competitors out for the win.

She crossed her legs and massaged the tight muscles around her ankle and calf. It’d been a long day, and her toes were starting to ache after so many hours inside the take-no-prisoners Louboutin toe box. She snuck a glance at Layla, wondering if her cheap knockoffs hurt too, only to discover they’d been replaced with a pair of serious-looking black motorcycle boots.

“It’s been a long and grueling day.” Ira strode into the room, followed by his usual team of assistants. “Which should give you an indication of the level of commitment I expect. Though before you get too full of yourselves for having made it this far, let me remind you that not a single one of you is over nineteen—which makes you woefully inexperienced, despite what you think. Working for me will allow for the sort of real-life education you can’t get at school. But before I continue, is anyone having second thoughts? Anyone want to back out?” He surveyed the room for a beat before continuing. “So, on to the logistics … there are legal forms to fill out. My assistants will guide you through the process. But first, you’re probably wondering which clubs you’ll promote.”

Everyone nodded like they’d been wondering exactly that, Aster included. She had her heart set on Night for Night, the Casablanca-chic rooftop treasure. It was a perfect fit in every way—classy, sexy, and named after a cinematography technique used for night filming. She’d had a thing for Morocco ever since she came across a stack of her mother’s old Vogue s and spent the entire day staring at the spread of Talitha Getty wearing white patent-leather boots and a colorful coat, lounging on a roof with a mysterious man in the background. If Aster had to pick one single, defining moment that would shape who she’d hoped to one day become—it was that shot of Talitha Getty. She looked beautiful, pampered, exotic, and adored. Maybe even the slightest bit bored—but in a good way. Like her life was so full of lush adventures, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything left to amuse her. She tapped her hamsa pendant for luck while Ira squinted at the clipboard his assistant held before him.

“Layla Harrison—you’re promoting Night for Night.”

Aster involuntarily gasped and shot a quick look at Layla, trying to gauge her reaction. But Layla just nodded, gave nothing away.

“Tommy Phillips—” When Ira’s gaze centered on Tommy, Aster could’ve sworn she saw something pass between them. Something she couldn’t quite read. “You’re promoting Jewel.”

If Tommy looked upset, it was probably because he had his heart set on the Vesper. It was gaining a reputation as a gritty underground club attracting top-notch musicians—a perfect match for someone like Tommy. Jewel was sleek and modern and attracted a high-end crowd—it was out of his league.

Ira made his way down the list, and even though she’d been keeping track, she couldn’t stop from groaning when Ira’s gaze settled on hers. She knew what was coming.

“Aster Amirpour—you’ll be promoting the Vesper.”

She shook her head as her hand shot up.

“Problem?” Ira looked at her

“I’d like to request a different club.” There was no way she’d fit in at the Vesper, and someone as business savvy as Ira should’ve known that. She wondered if he was testing her, testing all of them.

Ira studied her for a long moment. “Then I guess you’ll have to find someone to trade with.” He left without another word, leaving his assistants to pass out the piles of legal forms.

Aster shoved the forms in her purse. She needed to get to the three other people who got Night for Night that she hadn’t almost run over.

“It’s Sydney, right?” Aster approached the girl who, from what Aster could tell, was wearing a full bodysuit of tattoos.

She was about to compliment Sydney on her septum piercing, anything to get on her good side, when Sydney snapped, “Don’t bother. I already traded with Taylor.” She turned away before Aster could react to the snub.

She headed for Diego and Jin on the other side of the room, but when she got there, they were already negotiating with Brittney and Ash, which left only Layla.

Great .

And on top of that, Layla was gone.

“Hey—Aster?”

She turned to find Tommy standing behind her.

“I was wondering if you were up for a trade?”

“Not unless you got Night for Night, which we both know you didn’t.” She raced for the door. Layla had probably already left, and Aster needed to reach her while she still had a chance. But when she replayed her words, she forced herself to turn back. She’d already made one enemy. She didn’t need to start a collection. “Sorry,” she said. “That was uncalled for.”

“Won’t argue with that.” Tommy’s face broke into a grin that made his eyes gleam. Maybe he was cuter than she’d first thought.

“It’s just—I really want Night for Night.”

“Well, Jewel’s a closer match than the Vesper, no?”

Sure it was better, but better wasn’t good enough. “Can you help me get to Layla?” she asked, hoping he’d made a better impression than she had.

He ran a hand over his chin and shot her a skeptical look. “Doubtful,” he said.

“Would you be willing to at least try?” She gave him her best grin, the one she saved for auditions and head shots.

“Depends.” He folded his arms across his chest and shifted his weight to his heels, like he had all the time in the world. “What’s in it for me?”

“The Vesper.” She shrugged. “That’s what you want, right?”

He studied her for a moment, then led her to the entry, where Layla was talking on her phone, until she saw Aster and Tommy and hastily ended the call.

“Can I help you?” She frowned.

Tommy hooked a thumb toward Aster. “I was thinking you two should meet.”

“We’ve met—” Layla turned away. “She nearly killed me in pursuit of a parking space.”

“And I want to apologize for that.” Aster hurried alongside her.

“So, it’s true.” Tommy looked amused by the news.

“No, it’s not true,” Aster snapped. “I didn’t even see her. It was all a big misunderstanding.”

“Oh, you saw me.” Layla whirled on her. “Don’t even try to pretend like you didn’t.”

“No wonder you needed me to mediate.” Tommy looked at Aster, shaking his head.

“Believe me,” Aster said. “I’m already regretting that.”

“Maybe so, but deal’s a deal,” Tommy reminded her. “I did my part, now you do yours.”

“What deal? What’s going on?” Layla glanced between them.

“Aster wants to switch clubs.”

“Um, hello! I’m right here and I can speak for myself!” Aster shook her head. Maybe she should just stick with the Vesper; it would be better than dealing with this. But who was she kidding? It was a disaster in the making. Besides, she was still convinced this was all part of some weird game Ira was playing.

“Then why’d you ask me to help?”

“I asked you to help me find her, not to—ugh, just forget it, Okay? Listen.” Aster faced them both. “Here’s the deal. We all want each other’s clubs. So I’m proposing we put our personal feelings aside and—”