Page 12 of The Beat Match

Pegasus: Thinking about things can be more intimidating than doing them.

Harley Quinn: Exactly. But this thing I did, it feels different, like a turning point. Like I’ve opened the door to Narnia and have to choose to stay in this life or walk into another.

Awareness struck Annie as she wrote, just how deeply tonight’s DJ had affected her. The piano purchase was one thing, but the club scene had been something else entirely. Another way to feel closer to Leo. She’d never been to clubs with him. She’d been too young, but he’d get back from a night out, glowing, full of energy, talking nonstop about how alive he felt. She finally understood. The buzz in her chest hadn’t relented since she’d gotten home. She’d loved those beats, had wanted to jump into the notes and let them explode out through her limbs.

Not just as a dancer. On stage. Being the power source for everyone’s joy. Doing what Leo would have done.

Pegasus: I guess you have to decide which you’ll regret more, missing the world you know or never exploring the one that scares you.

Fear was there, all right, under the slight tremble in her fingers. Many events had defined Annie’s life, most of them on the devastating side of unfortunate. Still, she didn’t consider her current life bad, and her foster homes had been better than most. She’d moved through three of them, none rough or dangerous. The other foster kids had been decent enough, everyone keen to keep their heads down and power on. There had been one girl in particular she’d loved. Clementine: cute pigtails, freckled nose. Older than Annie, but so shy and scared she’d seemed younger. Annie had made it her mission to make Clementine smile, chatting about comic book characters and acting silly.

They hadn’t kept in touch in the end, but Annie didn’t need close friends, not with her online communities and coworkers. She also had Wes for company, even though he could drive a teetotaler to drink. She waitressed enough to support her various hobbies and vintage clothing obsession. She dated sporadically, though not recently. She liked living in Queens, even with her tiny apartment and not-so-tiny commute. She was happy in her day-to-day life.

She just wasn’t sure she was fulfilled.

Harley Quinn: I think there’s a side to myself I haven’t explored.

Pegasus: The first step is recognizing it. The second is going after it, no matter what the people in your life think. If this is something you want, don’t let anyone or anything stop you.

She hadn’t mentioned wanting to be a DJ. She hadn’t entertained the notion before tonight, but the prospect was suddenly all she could see. Like there was no maybe or we’ll see or I could try standing in Annie’s way. Life was short. She didn’t need to ponder and research to decide if DJing was a viable option. That wasn’t how she rolled. She was the sort who quit jobs when they didn’t suit her. She breezed through half-finished Sudoku puzzles, bought used pianos after avoiding music for thirteen years. If she was any good at DJing, she could even quit waitressing. Teach piano during the day, DJ at night.

The first step to making this a reality was taking DJ lessons, which required cash, and only one bank would never turn her away. The Bank of Weston Aldrich. But the request would have to be covert. If he caught wind of her piano and DJ plans, his head would explode, epically, loudly. He’d berate her for buying the piano and then hopping to another pursuit.

He’d call her Squirrel.

He loved that nickname, always joking that her shifting attention span was like a dog whose mind blanked at the sight of a running squirrel. This wasn’t her sometimes-flighty behavior, though. In her mind, teaching piano and DJing were linked. Different expressions of the same goal. And Wes was on a need-to-know basis. He had offered to help pay her rent. She simply had to convince him she needed a few months’ buffer, use the excess money for a DJ course or equipment, then pay back every penny.

Her second step was finding Falcon.

Taking a class was one thing. She wanted to learn from the best, and Falcon had set the bar high. She’d figure out where he was playing next. Flag him down or ambush him and plead her case. Ask to be his apprentice. As Pegasus suggested, she wouldn’t let anyone or anything stop her.

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5

“Clinical tests need to be pushed back.” Saanvi removed her glasses and polished the lenses, her movements small and precise. “We need more time. We’re not where we hoped we’d be.”

If Weston had a penny for every time a research team asked for more time, he’d be able to end world hunger. “The investors need specifics, not generalities. Give me something to keep them on the hook.”

Saanvi slid on her glasses. “Tell them the inhibitors are cleaving the APP proteins into fragments, limiting beta-amyloid deposits, as hoped, but results are inconsistent. We still believe in the treatment’s viability.”

With the millions they’d sunk into the research, she better believe in it. Not that Aldrich Pharma was alone in their unending quest to cure Alzheimer’s. Every pharmaceutical company in the world had teams trying and failing to develop treatments. Except Biotrell, who was trying more than failing. Karim Farzad’s company was closer to success than any of them. If their merger went through—no, when their merger went through—the life-altering breakthrough would belong to Aldrich Pharma. Hence tonight’s date with Rosanna.

Weston left Saanvi to her work and rode the elevator to his office floor. He should be thinking about the board meeting he had to arrange, the words he’d need to finesse. Instead his mind was stuck on tonight’s impending date and all he stood to lose.

He left the elevator as Duncan emerged from the conference room.

Duncan nodded. “How’d the R&D chat go?”

“Frustrating as always.”

“You need me to help with damage control?” Duncan matched Weston’s brisk stride.

“We might have to arrange a last-minute meeting in Chicago. Sweet talk those investors into loosening their wallets.”

“Say the word, and it’s done.” Duncan slowed as they neared Weston’s office. “I haven’t heard from Annie since our nice chat. What’s she been up to?”

Weston stopped dead, his chest rising and falling too fast. He knew some of what Annie had been up to the past three weeks. She’d been at all four of his last DJ shows, by herself, dancing in front of him, trying to catch his attention. An effort she didn’t need to exert. When she rocked her hips and tossed her long blond hair, he couldn’t look anywhere else. He just didn’t know why she was so intent on Falcon.