When it’s time for me to go, I pull the collar of my moto jacket up around my chin, throw on a baseball cap (I really am trying to look as un-Rachel as possible), and walk out of the restaurant and directly into the waiting car outside. Alex got a rental with extra-dark tinted windows, just to be safe. As I slide into the front seat next to him, I chance a quick look around. No paparazzi in sight. The car pulls away. I can’t believe it was really that easy. Part B of the mission, success.

I sink back in my seat, relieved.

“Happy?” Alex asks, glancing at me from behind the steering wheel.

“Very.”

“You were really anxious about tonight, huh?”

I turn to look at him. He’s smiling, but there’s worry in his eyes. I gently smooth the crease between his eyebrows.

“It’s all right,” I say. “It went well. Much better than I expected. I’m hoping this means we can see more of each other whenever you’re in Seoul without having to look over our shoulders all the time.”

He smiles, catching my hand with his. “That would be nice. But you know I don’t mind all the sneaking around.” I beam at him, grateful as always that he’s so willing to put up with all the drama that dating someone with my life entails. “It’s actually kind of hot,” he adds.

I playfully slap him on the arm and he laughs.

“Hey,” he says, growing a bit more serious, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand. “I got an email right before I got to the restaurant, but I didn’t want to tell you during dinner. Celeste says that they want to see your next-season designs by launch day. If you can promise that, then they will agree to stock your first six bags.”

I’m so distracted by the feel of Alex’s soft hand in mine that it takes my brain a minute to catch up to what he’s saying. Lane Crawford is going to take my line? I squeal and do a little happy dance in the passenger seat. Alex laughs and dances along with me as best he can from behind the wheel, but then his brow creases. “Listen, this is amazing, and you should be psyched, but for next year’s designs they’re expecting a lot—three times what you presented them at the first meeting.”

I take a deep breath, not wanting to let anxiety cloud this happy evening, but my chest suddenly feels tight. Three times more? That’s eighteen bags. It took me the better part of two months to come up with the six bags I have. Can I design eighteen original bags in the same amount of time? On top of everything else I have going on in my life?