ADA

I lean my forehead against the window of the cab as rain washes the city in gray. The perfect aesthetic for my current mood. This internship meant so much to me. I can't believe what I'm about to do.

Seeing the anguish and fear on Liam's face when he found out his story had been leaked to the press changed everything. There's no way I could be a paparazzo after that. I've always wanted my photography to be a positive thing. I never intended to hurt anyone, especially not someone I cared about. Someone I'd fallen in love with.

I fucking loved you. How could you do this? Those two sentences repeated in my mind all night, over and over and over again. No matter how many times I replay them, they don't lose their meaning. They cut just as deep as when Liam said them. Pain sears inside my chest. It's all I can do to keep from doubling over.

I wrap my arms around my stomach, holding myself together.

The car goes over a pothole, and my nose thuds against the glass. The dull ache makes tears prickle behind my eyes, which has more to do with the pain in my heart than anything else. I sit back against the cracked leather seat, trying to focus on what I need to do this morning.

I didn't want to go into the office at all. I was going to text Agnes as soon as I got home from the beach to tell her I was quitting. But my dad—who was unsurprisingly thrilled with my decision—insisted I do the professional thing and deliver my resignation in person.

My mom, on the other hand, wanted to slap Agnes with a lawsuit for selling that photograph without my permission.

I should let her. Maybe I will. Right now, I'm so consumed by anger at myself, I don't have the emotional bandwidth to worry about Agnes. I just want to get this over with. I've never quit anything of any real significance in my life. It's ironic that the thing I'm choosing to walk away from is the one thing I thought I always wanted.

But I couldn't have been more wrong. Having to deal with all the other photogs and their gross comments, having to sneak around and photograph people's most private moments, having to jeopardize my own morals—this job was never right for me. I can't believe it took me so long to realize it.

The brakes of the cab squeal as it slows to a stop, and I look out the window. We're already at the agency. A wave of anxiety clobbers me. When I leave here, I'll be facing a future where I have no idea what I want to do, and that's terrifying.

I pay the driver and dash through the downpour.

The receptionist doesn't bother glancing up as I walk past. I almost laugh, because my entire world has blown up in the last twenty-four hours. It feels like nothing should be the same anymore, but this woman's disapproval is unwavering.

I push the door to Agnes's office open and find her standing behind her desk. She isn't alone. Chrissy's sitting in the chair across from her.

"Ada. Good, you're here. A huge smile stretches across Agnes's face. That photo of Liam and his dad must've really brought in a lot of money.

"I need to talk to you, Agnes." I sit down, looking pointedly over at Chrissy, who's gazing out the window, not meeting my eye.

"Yes, you do. In fact, we need to do more than talk. We need to celebrate." Agnes sits down and pulls two pieces of paper out of a folder and slides them across the desk.

I read the first sentence and blink. Shaking my head, I read it again, not understanding. It's an offer of employment. Permanent employment.

Whirling around, I look back at Agnes's whiteboard. The scores have all been erased.

The only thing I can think to say is, "Why?"

"Why?" Agnes repeats, laughing. "Because the two of you worked together to get me Liam's story. I promised you a position with the company if you delivered. And we can both expect a fat paycheck for that photograph. Not to mention royalties for years to come."

"Worked together? What are you talking about?" I glance over at Chrissy. She's carefully studying the offer letter in front of her.

Agnes's smile falters. "I'm talking about you getting the picture of Liam and his dad while Chrissy got the story from Mia Harlow. Real stroke of genius by the way. There's no one more eager to spill secrets than a jilted ex-lover."

"I didn't submit that photograph," I say. "I was going to delete it."

Agnes's eyebrows pinch together like she's as confused as I am. She turns to Chrissy. "Miss Sanderson, you said Ada asked you to edit and submit that photo for her while she was out of town."

"What?" I splutter. "I did not ask her to do that. I don't know how she even knew about that picture."

Agnes stares at Chrissy, folding her arms and waiting for an explanation.

Chrissy scrapes a hand through her hair before turning to me, finally looking me in the eye. Her voice is defensive as she says, "Mia told me how Liam was paying his dad to hide his secrets for him. When you left your camera sitting in here, I thought I'd check and see if you had any photos that could confirm the story. And you did."

Anger, hot and jagged ignites inside me. She's the reason Liam's most painful secret is splashed all over the internet for the whole world to see like it's nothing more than cheap entertainment.

"I left my camera in here for five minutes, and you went through it and stole my picture?"

"Calm down." Chrissy has the nerve to roll her eyes at me. "I didn't steal it. You got the credit, and you're the one who's getting paid for it."

"I don't want to get paid for it. I shouldn't have even taken it. Do you have any idea how much damage that shot has done?"

"Damage to what? Your boyfriend's reputation? If he's going to do shady things, then he's going to have to deal with the consequences. He doesn't get to sweep them under the rug because he has money to throw at people and keep them quiet. It's our job to tell the world the truth."

"The truth? If you're so concerned with everyone knowing the truth, then you should've done your freaking research. Liam's dad blackmails him by threatening to sell lies about him to the press."

Chrissy's face pales, but her mouth is a stubborn line. "You're lying. Mia Harlow told me everything. You're just covering for your boyfriend."

"Right, because I'm sure Liam's ex-girlfriend would have no motivation whatsoever to set me up to look like I betrayed him." After seeing the way Mia looked at Liam at the club. I knew she wasn't over him, but I never imagined she'd do something like this.

"You think you're some hard-hitting journalist exposing people's dirty secrets," I snap. "But all you did was spread more lies. And Liam isn't my boyfriend anymore." My voice cracks as the words leave my lips. "So I'm not covering for him."

"I don't believe you," Chrissy says, but she sounds uncertain, almost like she's trying to convince herself now. "I did the research on this story. I earned this job."

"Don't be so sure about that." Agnes snatches Chrissy's offer letter back off the desk. "Frankly," she says, "I couldn't be less concerned about whether or not the story is true. In this business, what matters are the stories that sell and the pictures that make them appear to be factual. But what I can't have are employees who steal other photographer's shots and lie to me about it."

"But," Chrissy chokes out, eyes wide with panic, "you said you wanted people working here who're willing to do whatever it takes to sell photos."

"I said I wanted photographers who were willing to do whatever it takes to help this agency succeed," Agnes corrects. "And you put the entire company at risk when you turned in a photo that didn't belong to you. I'm sorry, Miss Sanderson." She shakes her head. "You're fired."

Chrissy sits there frozen, lips parted in shock. The look that flashes in her eyes is so full of devastation, I almost feel bad for her. I think she actually believed she was doing the right thing by exposing Liam's story.

Without another word, she gets up and storms out of the office.

Agnes sighs, watching her go then turns to me. "I can't pretend I'm not conflicted about giving this job to you, Miss Datchery. You had a photograph in your possession you knew would bring in a lot of money, and you chose to keep it to yourself. I should fire you as well. But when you do submit your shots, I can't deny they're phenomenal."

After everything that's happened, I can't believe Agnes is really offering me the job Grams and I spent so many hours dreaming about.

I don't know if Grams would be disappointed in me for walking away or proud of me for figuring out this isn't my dream after all. Either way, it's time for me to let go. Of the dream. Of worrying about what Grams would think. Maybe it's time for me to start letting Grams go, too.

"I appreciate the offer," I say. "But this isn't the right job for me. I'm not willing to do whatever it takes to help you succeed. Not anymore."

Agnes leans back in her chair, studying me. "Well, I'm not going to say I'm not disappointed, but I'm also not entirely surprised." She picks up my offer letter and sets it on the credenza behind her. Without the sunshine streaming through the window, her trophies and awards look dull and a little cheap.

"Good luck, Miss Datchery."

"You too, Agnes."

She presses a button on her phone. "Hildy," she says, "get me Tyler."

I hear the receptionist's voice crackle through the speaker as I stand up. "You fired him this morning."

"I've changed my mind."

I hold my head high as I walk down the hallway, passing the break room and breathing in the tang of automatic coffee one last time. I see the picture of Liam hanging on the wall. His bright, blue eyes pierce me straight through the heart.

By the time I pass the reception desk, my chin has started to tremble. As soon as I step out the front doors into the pouring rain, I burst into tears.