Jordan shot her a look. “What the hell kind of surprises have been sprung on you?”
Astrid laughed. “Okay, they didn’t involve needles or leaping to my death, but they still weren’t very fun.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing the whole point of tonight is fun. That is, if you’re up for it.”
Their gazes met, just for a second, before Jordan looked back at the road. Astrid realized, in the past hour since they’d left Birdie’s—no, even before that, since she’d stepped onto the mini-golf course with Jordan—she hadn’t worried about her job, the show, the way Jordan Everwood had gone behind her back with the paint, how they were going to fix that blue room.
She hadn’t thought about anything, really, at least not anything serious. And it was fun.
That was it. She was having actual fun.
Even more surprising, she realized she didn’t really want to know where they were going—she was enjoying the mystery, the teasing tone to Jordan’s voice when she denied Astrid any knowledge. Just experiencing a moment where she wasn’t constantly thinking about why and when and how was exhilarating.
This woman next to her didn’t even feel like the same Jordan Everwood from earlier today. She felt like... well, Astrid wasn’tsure. Whatever this feeling was, it was new and exciting, and Astrid didn’t want to ruin it by bringing up the inn and what happened with the Lapis Room today. That could all wait. The whole world could wait and give her one night off, one night where her whole goal was to smile and laugh and not care so damn much.
Besides, Astrid really, really wanted to know what this woman had up her lemon-dappled sleeves.
THEY ENDED UPin downtown Winter Lake, a small town about thirty minutes from Bright Falls, but nearly an hour from Birdie’s in Sotheby. Even though she’d grown up in Oregon, lived here all her life with the exception of four years at Berkeley, Astrid had only ever passed through this particular hamlet. Josh Foster lived here now, she knew that, which did not increase its appeal.
That is, until Jordan pulled up in front of a movie theater.
Not just any movie theater. An old-timey movie theater called the Andromeda, like something right out of the Golden Age of Hollywood. It was beautiful. All pinks and reds and oranges, a tiny carnival on an otherwise quiet street, the shops around it already closed up for the night. A fluorescent-lit marquee advertised a silent movie marathon and three-dollar cocktails.
“Wow,” Astrid said when Jordan shut off the ignition. She gazed up at the towering marquee.
“See?” Jordan said. “No bungee cords.”
Astrid smiled. “No bungee cordsandcheap drinks?”
“It’s even better inside.”
Jordan opened her door and slid out, Astrid following close behind. They paid the attendant in the burnished gold-and-glass booth by the front entrance for the eight o’clock showing before stepping into what felt like another era. The lobby was all red carpeting and gold accents. Everything was vintage, from the soda machine to thepopcorn maker to the crimson outfits with gold tassels the employees wore while they directed guests to their seats. The bar was ornate, with gleaming bottles on green-lit shelves, a lacquered bar top, and fringed, red velvet stools already occupied by patrons, several of whom were costumed like it was the 1920s.
“We’re underdressed,” Astrid said, pulling at her blouse.
Jordan waved a hand. “It’s fine. I’ve been here plenty of times in costume and not. Anything goes here. It’s whatever you want it to be.”
“How have I never heard of this place?” Astrid asked. She knew her mouth was hanging open, but it was all so intoxicating. The air smelled of butter and maraschino cherries and good liquor. Glasses clinked. Voices laughed.
“It’s a hidden West Coast gem,” Jordan said, her voice suddenly soft. “My grandmother would bring Simon and me here in the summers when we were kids. Sans the cocktails, of course. Lots of popcorn.”
In that moment, Astrid’s stomach growled so loudly, she was surprised Jordan didn’t hear. She hadn’t eaten since her lunch with Iris. “Popcorn sounds good. So does an old-fashioned.”
Jordan lifted a brow. “I would’ve pegged you for a strictly expensive wine kind of gal.”
Astrid shrugged. “This seems like the kind of place where you order a drink with a name.”
“Oh, it definitely is.”
After securing a huge bucket of buttery, glistening popcorn, an old-fashioned, and a Manhattan, they settled into two plush velvet chairs in the very middle of the theater. Astrid couldn’t stop looking around at the heavy drapery, the dazzling crystal chandeliers, the antiqued brass tiles on the ceiling that made everything feel glamorous.
The space was...inspired.
Astrid stuffed some popcorn in her mouth, bitterness rising like bile at the thought. Still, the theaterwasinspired. Tonight, she justwanted to enjoy all this beauty and majesty around her without constantly thinking about how she could achieve the same effect.
“I’ve never seen a silent movie before,” Astrid said after a deep, calming breath.
“Oh, okay,” Jordan said, turning toward Astrid with one leg propped up on the seat. “Here’s the best part, a game Simon and I used to play. Every time an actor does this”—she launched into a series of comically affected expressions with her lips curled and then pursed, her eyes wide before narrowing again, hand clutching at her chest and then her cheek—“we have to take a drink.”
