“Cloud Nine?” Carly says, her eyes sparkling. “That place is beautiful. And the food is to die for. Rachel, you have to dress up! Just maybe choose a low pair of heels. We don’t want any more accidents while you’re here. Ollie, please make sure she signed the litigation waiver,” she jokes.

I laugh, though there’s still a cold swirl of worry in my stomach. Don’t get caught. “I will,” I tell her. “Thanks for passing the message on, Ollie. And thanks to all of you for being so patient with me. I’ve really appreciated the experience of working with you and your team. It’s been incredible.” And it’s true—even with my momentous fail, getting to spend this much time with Carly and absorbing everything I possibly can from her has been worth it, even if I never get called to another modeling gig again.

Cloud Nine at eight p.m. Finally.

Time to clear the air with Alex, and let him know everything I’ve been thinking.

It’s time to tell the truth.

Now I just have to decide which truth.

You’ll figure it out, Leah said right before I left. You always do.

Let’s hope she’s right.

TWENTY-FIVE

There are about 5,071 discarded outfit choices on the floor of my hotel room, and it’s 7:56. Dinner with Alex is in four minutes, and I’m curled up in my underwear in a complete ball of indecision, when my phone pings.

It’s probably Alex wondering if I’m bailing on dinner, or if I’ve completely lost my mind. Maybe he heard about the fiasco on the slopes today and is disappointed. I felt better after the second half of the shoot indoors, but now I’m wondering if I just let Carly’s good spirits distract me from the awful truth of the situation. I still have to make up my mind about my fashion line and about Alex, and I can’t do it. I feel totally paralyzed.

With a groan, I roll over and look at my screen. It’s now 7:57. But the ping was not a text from Alex—it was from my mom.

How are you doing, daughter? I’m thinking of you up in the mountains. I know you love the snow. Hope you were careful on the slopes. Love you.

Tears start to come to my eyes and before I can stop myself, I’m calling her. “Umma,” I say as soon as she picks up.

“Rachel, is everything okay?”

I let out a sniffly breath that’s half tears, half laughter. “I think so? I can’t believe you’re awake!”