Page 37 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

I’ve never worn something so expensive.

Chase would die if he saw me in this.

Danielwould die if he saw me in this.

Imight die if Daniel sees me in this.

Definitely can’t limbo in this thing.

Remembering the competition jars me back to reality.

“Um, what exactly am I being styled for? Don’t get me wrong, this is gorgeous. But I think I should wear something easier to move in. Is that an option?”

“Today’s test won’t require much movement,” Matteo says vaguely. His hands are still working through my hair.

I frown. “Okay? So what is the challenge?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say,” he demurs.

I think back through Dante’sInferno.First there’s Limbo, and they made us limbo. Next is the circle for lust.

There’s something about what Matteo said—he used the wordtest, notcompetitionorchallenge.So today we’re being tested on lust, and a sexy head of wardrobe that I’ve never seen before is suddenly putting me in a revealing ballgown and showering me with compliments?

“Ah, got it,” I say. “Thank you. I think I’m all set.”

Matteo blinks at me. “You’re ready to go so soon? Weren’t you enjoying that moment we were having?” he says, sounding nonplussed.

It might be my imagination, but he seems to have less of an Italian accent now.

“It was very nice,” I say brightly. I’m speaking in my phone voice now, suddenly keenly aware that there is definitely a camera focused on me in this dressing room. “You’re great at your job. Keep it up.”

I hike up my skirts and hurry out of the room, heart racing. As hot as Matteo is, he isn’t my type.

I collide face-first with something hard and slippery. I push away and look up, realizing that it’s not a what, it’s a who.

I’ve run into Daniel Cho, and my hands are currently resting on his bare, chiseled, oiled-up abs.

“Slayer,” he says, tilting his head. “You good?”

“Why are you so slippery?” I blurt out.

“The stylist said she was going for a casual, beach-y vibe today,” he says slowly, taking in my Disney Princess look. He clears his throat. “Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you look like you’re going onThe Bachelor?”

“This is what my stylist recommended,” I say dryly. Wait, was that a compliment? The girls onThe Bachelorare all smoking-hot dental hygienists and marketing executives.

Daniel gives me the once-over a second time, opens his mouth, then closes it.

I can’t stand this. “What is it?” I demand.

He blinks and shakes his head. “I’m having a hard time envisioning what kind of challenge we’re going to face today if you’re dressed likethatand I’m dressed likethis,” he says, gesturing to the both of us, specifically the fact that he’s in a pair of bright-red swim trunks and oiled up like a frying pan while I’m dressed for the Oscars.

Aha. So he hadn’t figured it out. I revel for a moment in having the upper hand.

“The great Midas hasn’t figured out the puzzle yet?” I taunt him, grinning.

“Puzzle? What?” His brow furrows, and I can see the gears turning in his head.

I have to keep myself from letting out a villainous laugh. I love it when he looks stumped. I spent all of high school chasing that look. Chasing the high of one-upping him, and rising to the challenge when he one-upped me.

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