Ginny was relentless.
“You cannot come to Hong Kong, nail an interview with Tristan Jacinto, and then just go back to your hotel like a nun,” she declared, already zipping up her sequined clutch. “We are going to Lan Kwai Fong tonight. No arguments.”
Sofia groaned. “I have deadlines. I should be typing up notes.”
“You can type tomorrow. Tonight, you will drink, dance, and maybe even smile like a human being.” Ginny winked. “Consider it cultural immersion. Lan Kwai Fong is practically a Hong Kong landmark.”
Which was how Sofia, two hours later, found herself in the middle of neon chaos, wearing a yellow summer dress that brushed just above her knees. It was not daring, not nightclub-glamorous, but sunny and simple, the kind of dress she had bought for brunches and beach trips. Her hair,
