“I just realized how late it is,” I say, avoiding his eye. I feel bad about abandoning our plans for the evening, but I know it’s for the best. I can’t let myself get distracted. My work has to come first. “I have a lot of prep work to do for tomorrow’s meeting. I should probably just grab some room service from the hotel.” Finally, I spot my bag hanging on the knob of his apartment door, and sling it over my shoulder. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” he says, still looking at a loss.

“Great, see you then!”

I throw open his door and am halfway down the hallway when I hear Alex say, “Bye?”

FIFTEEN

My first year as a trainee, I had a meeting with the DB executives. Eleven-year-old Rachel was so racked with nerves that when I was dismissed and could finally unclench my fists, I found both palms marked by deep crescent-moon imprints. They didn’t fade for the rest of the day. Even now meetings with DB execs can still be slightly terrifying. But at least with the execs, I know what to expect. Mr. Han is the most easygoing, but that doesn’t mean you should push his buttons. Ms. Shim might give you some intense eye contact, but she’s usually fair. Mr. Lim can be highly opinionated but also gives out compliments more freely than the rest.

Fashion industry meetings, though? That I have no road map for.

The secretary peers over her computer screen at me. “Let me know if you change your mind about coffee or tea.”

“Thank you, but I’m good,” I say. I already consumed too much caffeine back at the café in the hotel lobby where Alex and I met up earlier this morning.

I still felt bad about bailing so suddenly last night, even though Alex didn’t bring it up. But when I asked how the oxtail soup turned out, he just gave a small, tight smile and said, “It was delicious. Wish you could have tasted it.”

We ordered iced coffees (I figured a straw meant less opportunity for spillage on my carefully selected outfit), and Alex quizzed me with my flash cards until it was time to head to Lane Crawford.

“You’ll be great,” he said as we approached the gleaming glass office building. “I’ll meet you back at Four Seasons after.”

“You’re not coming?” I asked, alarmed. I assumed Alex would be by my side at the meeting, offering moral support.

“Nah, I’m just the facilitator. I get you guys in a room together. You take it from there,” he said with a confident smile. “Remember, Rachel, this is your vision. No one knows this line better than you. You’re going to nail it.” And with a quick kiss, he was gone.