Unrivaled (Beautiful Idols 1)

“So you’re saying the contest is rigged against you?” Ira rubbed his chin in his usual theatrical way.

“I’m saying that it feels like it’s rigged against me.” Brittney’s bottom lip trembled, her breath quickened.

“Interesting.” Ira squinted, clearly finding it anything but. “Tell me—” His gaze moved among them. “At the start of this contest, did any of you have even the slightest connection to Madison Brooks or Ryan Hawthorne?”

Layla looked around and found herself shaking her head with the rest of them.

“Well, to my knowledge, which is quite extensive, I assure you, neither did Aster or Tommy. You all began with an equal chance to claim victory. How you’ve decided to go about that was up to you.”

“Well, excuse me for not prostituting myself.

” She mumbled the words, but Ira caught them all the same.

“And not once did anyone suggest that you do.” He nodded to one of his assistants, then turned back to the group and called Layla’s name.

Layla’s head snapped up. There’d been so much drama surrounding Brittney’s accusations, she hadn’t been expecting him to call on her.

Her throat was parched, her tongue felt like a dried stump of wood shoved in her mouth, and her entire body had gone leaden with dread.

“Today’s your lucky day.”

She squinted, sure she’d misunderstood.

“Be sure to thank Brittney on her way out. Turns out she’ll be leaving today instead of you.”

Layla’s eyes widened as she watched, as they all watched, Brittney mutter under her breath, gather her stuff, and storm out, with Ira’s assistants close on her heels.

“But—” Finally able to access her voice, Layla glanced between the closed door and Ira. It had never once occurred to her she’d get cut. Her numbers were nowhere near Aster’s or Tommy’s, but she’d been holding her own—hadn’t she?

Ira studied her. “But your numbers are decent? Is that what you were going to say?”

She rubbed her lips together. It was what she’d been thinking, but saying it was no longer an option.

“This competition is about numbers, you’re right. It’s always been about numbers. But it’s also about having what it takes to succeed, and how you go about answering the question: Just how far will you go to get what you want?” He held her gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment, leaving her to wonder if she was expected to answer. Before she could try, he went on to add, “Looks like you just got another week to determine that for yourself. And so—” He returned his attention to the rest of the group. “About that new list . . .” He motioned to his assistants, who passed around new lists containing a mix of some old names along with some new. Though it was interesting to see Heather Rollins had moved to one of the top five spots.

“Think of this as a guideline. What really interests me is how aggressive you are in building your numbers. Impress me. Dazzle me. Wow me. But whatever you do, do not disappoint me.”

With that, he slipped out the back. Layla watched him go, wondering how the hell one went about wowing Ira Redman. She didn’t even know where to begin.

She made her way outside, had just barely straddled her bike when Tommy appeared. “We need to talk.”

Layla started her bike, refused to acknowledge him.

“I read your blog.”

She studied him behind mirrored lenses, not saying a word.

“What I can’t understand is why you would do that to me.” He crossed his arms at his chest, looking truly perplexed.

Her fingers gripped the throttle. Running him over suddenly seemed like a viable option. Was he for real? How could she do that to him? Like she owed him special treatment because of one drunken kiss? Tommy Phillips seriously needed to get over himself.

She removed her glasses, wanting him to see the look in her eyes when she explained. “You made the choice to insert yourself in the drama. You chose to become part of the story. It was never about you, Tommy. Believe it or not, you are not the center of my universe.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

She held his gaze, refusing to be the first to look away. “No, not just myself. I’m telling you too.” She’d told him once not to mess with her. Not her fault he hadn’t listened.

“I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but clearly I must’ve done something for you to punish me for helping a traumatized girl who had no one else to look after her.”