“For someone who is so used to being recognized everywhere she goes, you were ridiculously easy to find just now.”

NINE

“Alex? What are you doing here?” I try to stand up without knocking over my tiny café table so I can give him a hug but realize I’m still holding my pen awkwardly and, to avoid stabbing him with it, I end up wobbling to the left and looking like I’m a clown on a tightrope. Smooth.

He grins wider. “Oh, you know. Just in the neighborhood. Keeping my eye out for K-pop idols, obviously.”

He pulls out a striped wicker-back chair and takes a seat next to me—all the chairs are placed on one side of the tables so that everyone has a view of the street, but sitting side by side suddenly feels bizarrely intimate. I notice he’s wearing another one of those impeccable button-downs, this one black instead of pale blue, a leather jacket, and a scarf. His hair has grown out a bit since I saw him in Singapore, and I can see now that he has natural curls. He runs a hand through them now and it’s absurdly adorable, so I pick up my espresso cup to distract myself but then remember that it’s empty and have to put it back down on the saucer with a noisy clatter. So far my fine motor skills are really abandoning me today. He gives me a self-conscious smile.

“I was in London for a meeting. I just hopped on the Chunnel,” he says. “It’s super easy.”

“Just to stalk the streets looking for me?” I’m teasing, but part of me is wondering—is it possible? Did he really just get as excited as I did by our impromptu FaceTime last night and decide he had to see me?

“Ah well, not just that.” He flags the waitress and orders himself a coffee. “I thought I’d swing by my favorite tailor at Maison Rambure. Jean-Luc owes me a new suit. And while he was fitting me, I saw this.” He holds up his phone to show my selfie from a couple hours ago. “I figured I’d DM you first, but I needed the walk anyway… and then, just as I’m about to text, I look up and there you are. Like fate.”

“Mm-hmm. Okay then.” I try to hide my smile, and strongly consider getting another espresso just so I have something to hold. I steal a glance under the table. Polished oxfords, probably from Berluti. “That reminds me, I know your secret, by the way.”

He looks confused. “My secret?”

“You work in fashion!” I nudge him with my elbow. Okay, it’s a pathetic excuse to make physical contact, but I’ll take what I can get. “The twins told me.”