Page 18 of Ruled By Rivalry

It wasn’t every day you saw Allegra Amato strut through a bar, so I couldn’t blame the people around us. Even the last of them must’ve recognized Elliot now and were probably wondering who the girl opposite him was.

Fuck, I shouldn’t have gone to a fancy bar in an outfit I’d picked for the office. My hand smoothed down the button-up, which did nothing to make me feel better at the sight of Allegra.

She was dressed exactly the way you’d expect at a place like this: short dress, dark tights, and heels. Her black curtain bangs perfectly framed her face, while the rest of her hair was styled in the updo of my dreams.

And, yeah, that was jealousy trickling down my back. Not for a man or because she was prettier or wealthier, but because she fit into this bar so perfectly—and I’d felt out of place since I’d set foot inside.

I would’ve loved to leave before it became any more obvious that I didn’t belong with billionaire heirs and movie star daughters at fancy bars—something any person in the room could see.

But I had a plan. And Allegra’s presence could . . . help.

She seemed like the life of the party; a constant Let’s make bad decisions together sitting on your shoulder, egging you on. Very useful.

Elliot might be the only person in here who hadn’t turned at her arrival, and before he could, a hand ruffled through his hair. Unless he’d gotten a red manicure below the table and his nails had grown by about an inch in the same time, it wasn’t his.

Allegra’s brown eyes studied me curiously, her hand slipping from his hair to his shoulder in a casual hug. “Oh, hi,” she said. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. Elliot makes new friends like they grow on trees or something. Allegra.” She held her hand out like I didn’t already know who she was. Like I hadn’t read an article about their amicable split just last week.

Very amicable, judging by her other arm still around his shoulder and the fact that he wasn’t batting an eye at it. I introduced myself, and we shook hands.

“We’re not, though,” I clarified quickly. “Friends, I mean.”

Elliot’s eyes shimmered with amusement when he grabbed another high chair from the next table over and pulled it to ours so Allegra could sit. She did, brows pulled together, polite smile starting to slip. “What do you—?”

I only noticed what it sounded like then, in sync with the questioning look she sent Elliot—who didn’t feel a need to clarify. “Oh! God, no. Not like that. We just work together.”

A gasp. Wide eyes and gaze restlessly skipping between us. “You started work, Elli!” I could swear that was high-pitched relief in her tone. “That’s why you’ve been so busy. How is it?”

“Oh no. Maeve doesn’t want to talk about work,” he said, irony lacing every word. “We’ll have to find a new subject.”

And like she knew exactly what it might be like to work for a living, Allegra laughed. “That bad?”

Relatable. Approachable. Like the best friend from childhood you ran into twenty years later and still got along with. It was her thing, apparently. Probably one of the reasons why she had hundreds of thousands of followers, and I’d never heard a bad word about her.

Everyone loved Allegra Amato—and I was starting to see why.

“Oh no.” I waved their expectant looks off. “Not bad at all. Just don’t feel like talking about it after hours.” With a pointed look at Elliot, I tried to underline the statement. There was no need for Allegra to know the real reason for my secrecy.

And you gotta love an extrovert, because Allegra didn’t let the man get a word in. It’s probably the only reason he didn’t argue.

A few minutes later, her monologue was only briefly interrupted when Elliot needed clarification on a name or place or time. I added engaged listener to the list of things I hadn’t known about him. Maybe that was merely reserved for her, though.

It wasn’t hard to imagine them as a couple. Allegra laughed at his bad jokes, and Elliot listened and cared and looked at her in that way. Twenty minutes later, it seemed like they’d forgotten about me altogether, lost in their own bubble of inside jokes and gossip about people whose names I didn’t recognize.

Forget amicable, it almost seemed like they hadn’t broken up at all.

The press was known to get things wrong, and maybe they’d just never cared to correct them. Maybe they had broken up, but the split had been so amicable, they’d gotten back together. Many of those maybes floated around the table as I watched them.

Drinks flowed as easily as their conversation. As expected, Allegra’s presence was helping. They were well into their fourth drink, while I’d managed to pace myself. It was easier because no one was paying attention to me. Sure, Elliot’s eyes flicked in my direction every now and then, as if to check if I was still there, but he said nothing. Just kept on listening, commenting, drinking.

I was sure when Hunter Ashwood had told his grandson to get his act together, he didn’t mean Get drunk on a random Monday. He didn’t mean Go clubbing with your ex-girlfriend either.

I rolled my plan into motion. “As a New York amateur,” I jumped in, before Allegra could open another topic. “What’s the best place for a night out?”

“Oh, you’ve come to the right people!” Allegra wasn’t quite sober anymore either. Her smile, while still perfect, was a little wonky. Dilated pupils, red cheeks. “Avenue on Mon—” She cut herself off with another gasp, almost squealed in realization: “It is Monday! We have to go!”

The invitation wasn’t for me, but Elliot must not have had enough to drink yet because he immediately shook his head. He was supposed to be enthusiastic about the idea, then get photographed entering or leaving the place, preferably in a compromising position. With a random girl or so drunk he could barely walk.

Then be late to work the next day.