Chapter 36: Showdown at the Summit
672 Words
Allie Brooks stood stiffly, her smile strained as she watched Cher Waverly expertly manipulate the situation. There was something about Cher’s saccharine charm that grated on her nerves. It wasn’t jealousy—no, Allie was certain of that—but the sheer audacity of Cher’s pretense stirred something deep within her.
“I must say,” Cher announced, her voice honeyed but sharp, “it takes a certain kind of charm to secure an exclusive interview with Liam Hart. A feat like that doesn’t happen every day, does it, Allie?” Her delicate fingers brushed back a perfectly curled strand of hair, her expression the epitome of innocence.
Allie’s lips twitched into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Charm only takes you so far, Cher. Talent does the rest. But don’t worry—when the piece comes out, I’ll make sure to credit the entire team. After all, we’re in this together, right?”
Cher blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly recovered. “Of course,” she said sweetly. “It’s so thoughtful of you, Allie. Truly.”
The president of the journalism club, Kane, clapped his hands together. “That’s the spirit, ladies! Collaboration makes everything better. Allie, your generosity is commendable. A shared byline for an interview with Liam Hart? That’ll definitely make waves.”
Allie’s gaze flicked to Cher, catching the brief flicker of annoyance that crossed her face. For all her theatrics, Cher hadn’t expected Allie to play her game—and win.
As they exited the elevator, Cher turned on the charm again. “Everyone’s worked so hard today. Let me treat you all to dinner at Summit Bistro. My treat.”
Summit Bistro? Allie’s brow arched slightly. That place was notorious for being outrageously expensive, frequented by the city’s elite. Cher wasn’t exactly known for her modesty, but this was a new level of extravagance.
The murmurs of excitement from the team were immediate. “Summit Bistro?” one of them gushed. “I heard even a salad there costs a small fortune.”
“You’re incredible, Cher!” another chimed in.
Cher turned to Allie, her eyes glinting with something that wasn’t quite kindness. “You’ll come too, won’t you, Allie? I insist—it’s the least I can do after all your hard work.”
Allie’s polite smile didn’t waver, but inside, irritation simmered. Refusing would make her look petty, but agreeing felt like stepping into a trap. “Of course,” she said smoothly. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
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The Summit Bistro was as ostentatious as Allie remembered, all glittering chandeliers and marble floors. Dinner was predictably lavish, with Cher ordering the most extravagant dishes on the menu. By the end of the meal, the bill came to an eye-watering $20,000.
When the time came to pay, Cher pulled out a sleek black card, casually placing it on the table for all to see. Gasps echoed around the room.
“Is that... a Centurion Black Card?” Kane asked, his voice tinged with awe. “Only the wealthiest in the city have those.”
Cher feigned nonchalance, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Oh, this?” she said, her tone light. “It was a gift from my boyfriend. Honestly, I didn’t think it was anything special.”
“Your boyfriend gave you that?” someone exclaimed. “He must be incredible! Who is he?”
Cher blushed, a coy smile spreading across her face. “He’s just someone who cares about me deeply. Actually, he’s picking me up tonight. You might get to meet him.”
The table erupted into chatter, everyone eager to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man who could casually gift a black card. Allie, however, felt her stomach twist. She recognized that card all too well. It wasn’t Cher’s—it was Nick’s.
As if on cue, the door to the private dining room swung open.
“He’s here,” Cher said softly, her voice brimming with satisfaction.
- Writer
