O

7

One month later

n the last day of associate training, I received an email from my training manager, Jane
Rosenberg. She had called me to her office.
I wondered if I had done anything wrong. I had skipped class to meet Debu a few times. Had
they found out?
Debu and I had watched two movies, one Yankees baseball game and one Broadway musical
called The Lion King. We visited quaint restaurants all over Manhattan and ate Italian, Middle
Eastern and Indian food.
I had fallen in love with New York. I had also started liking Debu, even though things weren’t
romantic yet. Why wasn’t he making a move? When would I have my own boyfriend? Would I ever
have my own boyfriend? Perhaps it was because of these insecurities inside me, but I wanted things
to change soon.
Our next date was tomorrow. I had picked a short wine-coloured dress, my boldest so far.
‘Jane asked you to come to her office as well?’ Mark, an American associate about my age,
came up to me.
‘Huh?’ I said, as I came back from my thoughts about what shoes to pair with my wine dress.
‘Yeah. How do you know?’
‘You are copied on my email. It’s you, me and another associate, Carl Wong.’

I reached Jane’s office on the sixteenth floor of 85 Broad Street. Jane, in her forties, sat at her desk,
lost in her computer.
‘Welcome. You must be the new associates,’ Jane said as we sat down.
I looked at Mark and Carl. They seemed relaxed in contrast to a jittery me.
‘I have called you here because I have fresh offers for you. The three of you have been
selected for the Distressed Debt Group.’
‘Yes!’ Mark said and fist-pumped. Carl and Mark high-fived each other.
‘Really?’ I said. Has there been a mistake? I wanted to ask. Sure, I had applied. I had also met