Chapter 15: The Blind Date Intrigue

The first day of school passed in a blur. That evening, Allie returned to the house she now shared with Liam, only to find a sticky note stuck to the fridge.

“Away on business for three days – Melbourne.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Relief, mixed with... something else she couldn’t name.

Her phone buzzed later that night.

"Allie," her father, David, said over the line, "You’ll need to attend the birthday banquet for Mr. Hart in two days."

"Give my invite to Vivian," Allie replied curtly. "I’m not going."

David hesitated, sighed, and then hung up without another word.

Allie stared at the note Liam had left. If the banquet was in two days and he was gone for three, was he dodging the

event? She couldn’t shake the thought that this wasn’t a coincidence.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

For the next two days, Cher worked tirelessly, calling everyone she could to arrange an interview with Liam. Each attempt failed.

During a meeting at the school’s news agency, someone finally spoke up.

"Cher, maybe it’s time to drop Liam Hart as a lead. He’s not going to give us an interview."

Cher’s eyes sparkled with defiance. "Not true. Tomorrow is Mr. Hart’s birthday banquet, and I happen to have an invite.

Liam will be there, and I’ll get what we need."

The room buzzed with surprise.

"Wait," someone whispered. "That’s a private family event, isn’t it? And it’s supposed to be about setting Liam up on a blind date."

Cher shrugged, feigning innocence. "I have my ways. Don’t overthink it."

All eyes turned to Allie.

"Allie, are you going?" someone asked.

"No," she said flatly.

Cher jumped in, her tone dripping with fake sweetness. "Don’t worry, Allie. You’ll be coming with me."

______________________________________________________________________________________________

The next evening, as Allie packed up her things after class, Cher blocked her path.

"Grab the camera equipment. We’re heading to the banquet," Cher ordered.

"I’m not going," Allie shot back. "I don’t have an invite."

Cher smirked, pulling a pristine invitation from her bag and waving it like a trophy. "I’ve got you covered. Stick with me,

and you’ll get in. Besides, this is a joint project. You don’t really have a choice."

Allie didn’t move. "I said, I’m not going."

Cher’s smile vanished. She pulled a small envelope from her bag and fanned out several photos.

"Recognize these?" Cher asked, her tone sharp.

Allie froze, her stomach sinking.

"You still want to stay home?" Cher taunted, her voice low and dangerous.

Allie’s fists clenched at her sides. "What do you want?"

"Just your cooperation," Cher said with a casual shrug. "Now, grab the gear. We’ve got a story to cover."

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Allie froze, staring at the photo Cher held. It was an old snapshot of her and Nick.

In it, a younger Allie stood next to Nick, his arm slung casually around her shoulder, both smiling wide and carefree.

"Give it to me," Allie said sharply, her voice tight with anger.

Cher smirked, twirling the photo between her fingers. "Relax, it’s just a picture. Or does it bother you that much?"

"You know why," Allie snapped.

"Oh, I know." Cher’s grin widened. "But if you want this little keepsake back, you’re going to have to do something for

me."

Allie clenched her fists. "What do you want?"

Cher’s tone turned sweet, mocking. "Come with me tonight. Help me get Liam to agree to that interview. Do that, and I’ll hand over your precious memory."

Allie hesitated, her pulse racing. The thought of Cher holding onto something so personal made her stomach churn.

"Fine. But after tonight, I don’t want to see your face again."

"Deal," Cher said cheerfully, as if they were old friends. "Now grab the equipment. We’ve got a story to cover."

By the time Allie returned with the equipment case, Cher had transformed. She wore a glittering fishtail evening gown, her makeup polished to perfection. She looked radiant—and entirely calculating.

Allie glanced down at her own casual outfit, her plain dress an obvious contrast to Cher’s glamour.

Cher smirked. "Cute look. But let’s not waste time. Get in the car."

The cab ride to Hart Manor was tense. Cher tapped her nails on her phone, scrolling and scheming. Allie stared out the window, wishing she could be anywhere else.

When they arrived, the sight of the estate took Allie’s breath away. Hart Manor loomed like a modern palace, its white stone walls illuminated by golden lights. Ornate gates stood guarded by men in black suits, checking each guest’s invitation.

Cher strutted ahead, brandishing a glossy card. "Here you go," she said with practiced confidence.

The guard barely glanced at it before shaking his head. "This is fake. You can’t enter."

Cher’s smile faltered. "Excuse me? I was personally invited!"

The guard’s expression didn’t budge. "No seal, no entry."

Allie leaned over, glancing at the card. "He’s right. The real invitations have a golden emblem in the corner. Yours doesn’t."

Cher whipped around, her eyes blazing. "You knew this was fake?"

Allie shrugged. "Figured it out a while ago."

"And you didn’t say anything? Were you just waiting to watch me make a fool of myself?"

"Maybe," Allie said, her lips curving into the faintest smile.

Cher glared at her, fists clenched. "You think this is funny?"

"Not really. But it’s satisfying."

For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension. Then Cher took a deep breath, smoothing her dress and

plastering on a tight smile.

“Allie, let’s just leave,” Cher snapped, glaring at the security guard. “This is pointless.”