“Hey, it’s more communication with the outside world than I’m getting.” I want to ask him what he knows about how the show is being received or if it’s making any difference for the brand, but I also don’t want to spend our precious private time together talking about this show. “Can I ask you something?”

“I think so,” he says playfully.

“If you could do anything with LuMac, what would it be?”

He nods, and I know he already has a very clear answer to this question. “There’s this program that we’ve got going for up-and-coming brands. We foster them and help them release a micro line. They pay back their loan to us slowly over time, but we just don’t have the resources to really dig in and do it up big. I would love to see us launch exclusive collaborative items as part of their lines and vice versa. I mean, we have the future of fashion just sitting right there in our offices. We should be doing so much more. Making connections. Building relationships. We just don’t have the money or the people to make it happen. At least, not yet. Mom calls it my pet project, but I think it’s the path forward.”

“I can’t even begin to tell you what an opportunity like that would mean to a fresh-out-of-fashion-school newbie. I love fashion. I love this industry. But sometimes it feels like the only way to succeed is to know someone.”

“Well, if your wardrobe is any indication, I’m positive you’re deeply talented, Cindy.”

“Can I get that in writing?” I joke.

Without a word, the waitress places our tower of dim sum steamer baskets on the table and takes two sets of chopsticks from her apron for us. “Bingo’s starting in just a minute.”

“Are we doing this?” Henry asks from the other side of the dim sum.

“The food or the bingo?”

“Both,” he says.

“Oh, it’s on,” I tell him.

“How do you feel about sitting on the same side of the booth?” he asks, seemingly out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you one of those people who looks at people sitting on the same side of the booth together and thinks they’re ridiculous? Or are you pro-same-side-of-the-booth?”

My brow furrows, and the smell of the dim sum is so good it’s almost hard to concentrate. “I think…I think I used to see people do that and feel like they just had something to prove. Like, they had to show the world that they were so in love and couldn’t even stand sitting that far from each other…but now—”

“Me too,” he says. “I used to think that too. But I think I’ve found someone who I want to share a booth seat with.”

“Henry Mackenzie, are you asking me to sit next to you?”

“Mainly so I can cheat off your bingo card,” he says, “but yes.”

I slide out of the booth and squeeze in next to him. The booths are old and tiny with a few tears in the cushions, and my butt sinks in so deep that my feet barely even touch the ground.

Henry opens the first layer of the steamer, and we both tear open our chopsticks.

With my bingo dotter in one hand and chopsticks in the other, I pick up a perfectly made dumpling.

“Cindy?” he asks.

I look up to him, fully prepared to chastise him for blocking the one-way dumpling ticket to my mouth, but he tilts his head down and his nose brushes mine. And I just let myself sit in this moment. Our chopsticks and dumpling and bingo cards and dotting markers, and the low-hanging red lamp hovering above our table casting a spotlight on our food while we are just barely cloaked in darkness.

“I was lying about cheating off you,” he says. “I just wanted to be close enough to do this.”

His lips touch mine as the waitress begins to call off bingo numbers, and there aren’t many things I’d choose over dumplings, but this kiss would be it.

The next morning, we have an elimination on the runway of the Westchester private airport in front of a small luxury jet that we won’t actually be flying anywhere because not even a quarter of the crew would fit.

Henry and I walked around the city until the sun began to slowly crawl up the horizon. We got two bagels on our way back. I couldn’t decide between smoked salmon, cream cheese, and dill, or rainbow bagel with Nutella, so Henry insisted we get both and split them, which is basically my exact love language. Sierra says I’m indecisive, but I like to think I can make any meal tapas, so whatever person is willing to tolerate that might be my soul mate.

When we got back to the hotel, Henry snuck the doorman and the front desk clerk each a twenty and asked them not to mention to anyone that they saw us coming or going. We took the elevator to my floor, and I wish that we could have put a spell on the rest of the world to freeze time and anchor the moon in place. Everyone would just wake up a little more rested, and Henry and I would win more time together. Time. It’s the one thing he and I can’t seem to get enough of.

We held hands, walking as slowly as we could until just a few paces ahead of us, a door clicked, opening. Henry snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me across the hallway into a small room with an ice machine and a vending machine.

I ducked into the space between the ice machine and the wall, my hips just barely fitting, and Henry stepped in just after me. He hovered over me, tucking his head down and blocking out the light.

A person stepped into the little room, and the ice machine began to rumble to life. Henry arced backward for just a moment, and mouthed, Wes.

“Shit,” I said.

Henry’s hand swept up, pressing his finger to my lips.

I took his wrist and pulled his hand down, stretching up on my toes so that our lips were within grazing distance.

His fingers dug into my waist, and he sank even closer to me somehow, my back pressed flat against the wall.

Our mouths hovered, breath hot, as Henry’s hands drifted upward, grazing the band of my lace bralette. I gasped at the feeling of his touch so close and his lips crashed into mine, silencing me.

His mouth was urgent and tasted like hazelnut. All I wanted was to drag him into my room and then to wake up beside him and ask him all the questions my brain can’t stop asking.

And now, just hours later, standing on this runway, I can still feel the weight of his body against me and his hands traveling up my torso.

After I went back to my room, I slept for an hour and a half and woke up with my heart racing. Something happened last night between us, and suddenly, when I picture my future, I picture Henry there with me.