“Worse.” She holds up a sandstone-colored novel.A Room of One’s Ownby Virginia Woolf, Ada’s favourite book in high school.
“It’s a first edition,” she says darkly.
“Jake?”
“Has to be.” She flips the book open, and a card slips out, a hand-drawn depiction of a dark-haired woman holding a flute by a stream.
“Is that supposed to be you?” Krissy asks.
“Euterpe,” Ada replies in a monotone. “The muse of poetry and music. Credited with inventing the flute.”
I lean over the bar and wrap an arm around her, trying to make sense of what Jake’s just done. This isn’t a pen, and it’s not flowers or jewellery. It’s not just expensive, it’spersonal.A gift from someone who’s paid attention. Someone who knows Ada and isn’t afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve. Jake Graves-Holland didn’t just drop money. He’s used the days since we spoke to track down a first edition novel. He droppedproof.
My phone buzzes. I glance at it, already sure who’s reached out. As expected, it’s a message from Jake:
Did she get it?
Iease away from Ada and type back:
Yes.
I pray he doesn’t ask what she thought, because honestly? Ada’s just staring at the book like she’s forgotten what a book is.But all he says is:
Good.
Then there’s another ping. This text is a screenshot of a Spotify profile. The familiar green and purple graphic says Adalasia Renaldo has been Jake’s number one artist for five years running. A second text arrives:
Didn’t have my own Spotify before that. Used to listen to her on YouTube. Hope this shows I’m in this for the right reasons. I like that you’re looking out for her.
I slip my phone into my pocket with a smile. I told Jake to prove he really likes Ada. Well, he’s done that. A warm glow bubbles in my chest. I’m clearly not the only person circling back to an old classmate for love this year.
Ada runs a finger across the cover, a faraway expression on her face. She likes Jake back. She must. If she wasn’t at least alittlecharmed, that book would already be listed on a secondhand site with a caption like,‘First edition, pretty cursed.’
I sat on my hands when NFR was wearing her down, but now, the least I can do is help her be with someone like Jake. A guy who not only sees her brilliance but wants to hold it gently. I’m going to do everything I can to give him a chance. Not because he’s asking for it, but because she deserves it. Plus, Ada and Jake’s history will make akillerMaid of Honour speech.
“Hey, bar girls? Waiting on beer over here?”
I jolt to attention. Krissy moves toward the guy in a navy suit, but I grab her arm. “I’ll go.”
The dude waves a fifty at me like I’m about to climb the stripper pole. “Yeah, you’ll do. Six Stellas, Princess.”
The crowd so far has been pretty good-natured, but the rounds are clearly catching up.
“Sure,” I say, going to grab the glasses.
“What are you doing? They’re the ones in the bottles.” Suit Bro points to the bottom fridge where the Stellas are stacked.
Shit. He’s right. I lean down to grab the beer, and he whistles. “I get why they hired you, now. That fuckingass.”
I spin around. “Hey?—”
“The fuck did you just say to my girlfriend?” Davis demands.
Suit Bro takes one look at the man who’s materialised at his side. Davis doesn’t often use his height to intimidate, but he is now. Suit Bro swallows hard. “Ah, nothing, man.”
“Apologise. Now.”
“Yeah, look, right. Sorry.”
