The last time I came here with Nate, three security guards followed us from floor to floor, hovered around us and didn’t back off until an older fan recognized Nate and asked him about the ESPN show his dad cohosts occasionally. One of them had the nerve to ask Nate for a selfie on our way out. He was willing, but I dragged him away, saying we were late for brunch. We never brunch.

At first, I’m tempted to walk around a little, take in the opulence, but every time I glance at Mei, she looks impatient and forces this weird, tight smile that looks more like a grimace, so I head straight over to the Chanel section. But when one of the sales associates directs me to the bag I want, there’s another one right next to it in a different color that calls my name. I can’t decide.

Mei’s pacing back and forth, still on her phone, thumbs moving so fast I expect smoke soon.

I grab both bags off the shelf and walk over to the mirror, then take turns posing with each one. Either one will be perfect. Every other intern at Van Doren had not only a Chanel, but also a collection of high-end bags they kept on rotation. It’s not just a bag, it’s an investment, and if I’m going to be a part of this world, this will help me compete.

I glance at Mei again. Now she has a cigarette dangling from her mouth, unlit, checking the time on her phone.

I flick a scrutinizing glance between both bags one last time. Before I can tell Mei which one I’ve decided to go with, she snatches both bags out my hands and shoves them into the older sales associate’s arms.

“Just charge both to my account.”

I gape at her. “But I thought you said—”

“I’m late for rehearsal. Don’t have time for you to make up your fucking mind.”

With that, she turns and heads for the escalator. I watch her the whole way, until she rounds a corner. I glance back at the older sales associate, trying to look as apologetic as I can. “Sorry about that.”

I don’t know what else to say. I’m still a little thrown. The woman forces a tight smile and leads me to the nearest register.

When I meet Jared two hours later, he is much less hostile. He seems nice, and even gets out of his car to open my door.

He’s alone. No driver. Which is odd since we’re in the city. Then again, it’s a Porsche, and if I had this car I’d drive it whenever I had the chance too.