“Thanks,” he said. He grabbed a sheet of paper from a stack of flyers for a band that someone had left right by the records. He got out a Sharpie from his back pocket and started doodling. It was a quick sketch, but that was what Rinn had requested.

“You’re the one that’s got to draw a last-minute poster. I should definitely be the one thanking you.” Rinn smiled back at him. She wanted to see that glimmer of him again beneath the glamour. She wanted to break her own spell. So she said the thing on the tip of her tongue. The words she never had the courage for before. She spoke without thinking. “Do you wanna grab dinner sometime?”

“Like a date?” said AJ, a puff of laughter escaping his lips.

But Rinn didn’t think he was laughing at her. Almost like he had to ask as though it were almost a joke, just in case.

But Rinn was done with just in case. “Like a date. There’s this place—the Chicago Diner—they’ve got the most insane cookie dough milkshakes on the planet.”

AJ stopped scrawling for a minute.

Rinn stopped breathing.

“Sure,” said AJ. He handed over the drawing.

Rinn looked down and snapped a photo of the flyer with her phone. She’d have it up and posted in no time. She smiled at him. “This is really great, thank you.”

They stood like that, staring at each other, unsure of what to do next. AJ looked down first and Rinn assumed it was time to head back downstairs. But before she could move, AJ spoke.

“Before you go,” said AJ, digging into the back pocket of his jeans.

Rinn waited, wondering.

He handed over a folded sheet of paper. “I made this for you.”

Rinn took it. Her whole body was going on autopilot. She unfolded the paper, smoothed out the creases, and then looked at it. It was a drawing. It was two people, dancing almost cheek to cheek. A man and a woman. The woman had a cropped, curly bob. The man was blond and had a monocle. “Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane. From the books.”

AJ shrugged; Rinn smiled.

“Thank you,” said Rinn. And then before she said anything to ruin it, Rinn turned and skipped down the stairs, hoping that the fund-raising was going as miraculously well as her love life at the moment.

They had an hour before their fates were decided.

28

Do Not Go Gentle

7:12 P.M.

Daniella

Daniella stared into the crowd with what could only be described as sheer fucking terror.