The Knockoff Read Online Free PDF

the other moms in her school salivated over on their iPhones during drop-off, comparing notes on the latest macramé plant hanger they had shipped from an artisan in Santa Fe who was more than one-half Cherokee.
    Bitly was perhaps something similar, but for smaller wares—miniature macramé plant hangers?
    But the link didn’t take her to a site called Bitly. She was redirected to something called Keek.com. Imogen looked left and then right. Keek.com sounded vaguely like the pelvic floor exercises Imogen had learned in her prenatal classes. What exactly had Ashley sent her?
    Underneath the neon-green Keek logo was a video. Imogen made sure to turn the volume down on the computer before hitting play.
    She gasped again and held her breath.
    The video was of her.
    Oh no. There she was, yawning in the meeting. Yawning not once, but twice in quick succession. On the screen her eyes closed for a brief instant.
    Ashley had taken a video of her without her knowledge. In a meeting. And then posted it on the Internet. What a grand invasion of her privacy!
Who just films someone without asking? Who just films
someone when they are doing nothing at all but sitting in a meeting?
She looked tired. Her sharp black crepe dress from The Row looked dull and old against the bright yellow hoodie of the woman sitting next to her. Ashley’s camera must have millions of megapixels. Imogen could see each and every last wrinkle fanning around her eyes as she opened her mouth wide. She couldn’t even remember yawning once, much less twice. There was a caption on the video: THE RETURN OF IMOGEN TATE to @Glossy. #Hurrah #Love #Bosslady #Shesback.
    She looked at the right-hand column on the Keek site. There were other videos. Imogen clicked the one at the top. It was Perry from the Marketing Department, the one wearing the short skirt, blazer and odd T-shirt with a cat on it, in the same meeting mere minutes later, looking right at Ashley and sticking out her tongue.
    The one below that was Adam in Accounting as he ran through potential costs for the shoot. He expertly rattled off the expenditures, but in between equipment and tailoring he ever so slightly glanced directly into the camera, winked and delivered an ironic thumbs-up.
    Everyone else in the meeting was very aware Ashley was documenting them and that after she took the video she would be sharing bits and pieces of their meeting. That meant Imogen’s yawns had certainly been shared with the entire office.
    Confirmation that all Imogen’s co-workers had seen the video arrived no less than thirty seconds later.
    Incoming message from Eve: “Are you sleepy? Let me know if you think you need to head home. We can regroup over a Google Hangout later if you want.” Imogen hit delete and looked up to see Ashley standing outside her office, a bundle of nervous energy, rocking back and forth between her toes and heels.
    “Do you like the keek?”
    Imogen vacillated between wanting to give the girl a stern warning about playing around during meetings and wanting to seem like she was a part of it. She opted for the latter.
    “I just wish I had been ready for my close-up. Let me know next time you are putting me on film.” Relief flooded over the girl.
    “Of course. One hundred percent. I’ll let you know next time.”
    “Ashley, where is Eve’s office?”
    “Eve doesn’t have an office. She doesn’t believe in ’em. You know how at Facebook no one has an office, like, not even Sheryl Sandberg?” Imogen had not been aware of that fact. “Everyone sits at desks on the floor. Everyone is the same.” Ashley looked around and lowered her voice. “Eve wants to turn your office into a nap room.”
    “A what?”
    “A nap room.”
    Imogen shook her head. What the hell was a nap room? “That’s not happening.”
    —
    Imogen was exhausted, but giving Eve the satisfaction of leaving early would be the equivalent of JFK showing his belly to Castro. Instead, she worked through the day,