Monday morning brought new assignments. This time I'd be playing Brahms' Piano Trio No. 3 in C Minor with my two favourite classmates. Jansen had thoughtfully created a timetable for us, which included a minimum of two hours of practice each day. It didn't look like there was much room for manoeuvre in his schedule—he'd printed it out onto cards and laminated them.

"This is worse than last time," I whispered to Jude.

"I know. Reckon I'm going to get a doctor's note or something. The dude's crazy."

At this rate, the next time I saw Hisashi I'd be sending him off to kindergarten and he'd be calling Sofia Mama instead of me. I needed to think of an excuse not to practise too. Maybe Linc could help? Although I was a bit nervous about speaking to him after what happened on Friday. On Saturday, I'd sent him a message apologising for causing the upset the previous day, but apart from a generic "It's okay" reply, I hadn't heard from him all weekend. What if our fledgeling friendship had been irreparably damaged?

By the end of the morning's lessons, I couldn't stand the worry any longer. I planned to skip lunch and look for him. I needed to know how he was feeling about things.

Except the faculty had other ideas.

"Akari, the dean has requested you go and see him in his office," Dr. Vasilyevich said as I was walking towards the door.

"Now?"

"Right now."

"What about?"

His glare told me such trivialities weren't his concern. "I don't know, but I would not advise being late."

Was he going to chide me for my error in the recital on Friday? Because one of my classmates managed to play the same page twice, and she didn't get called in. In fact, that was her laughing with her group on the way to the cafeteria.

Cursing under my breath that I wouldn't be able to speak to Linc, I made my way to the dean's office, more peeved than nervous for once, although the ten minutes his secretary made me wait on a hard plastic seat outside didn't help matters. Eventually, the door swung open and she waved me inside.

"Take a seat, Miss Takeda," the dean said.

I did so, trying to get comfortable on a chair made for aesthetics rather than actually sitting on and failing miserably.

"Is this about the recital?"

"No, this is about what happened after the recital."

"Huh?"

"I'm sure you're familiar with clause 137.6 on page ninety-three of the student handbook."

Oh, intimately. I studied it every night in all that spare time I had between Jansen's insane practice regime and caring for my son. "Uh, what does it say?"

"It expressly forbids any sort of relationship between staff at Holborn and the students. That isn't limited to faculty, but includes support staff as well."

"I don't understand."

"I have it on good authority that you went out for dinner with a member of the janitorial staff on Friday evening." He glanced down at the notepad in front of him. "A Lincoln Macbride."

Chikushō. I cursed in Japanese out of habit. "No, we didn't go for dinner."

"Three people report you left the premises together, as well as another who saw you in a restaurant. I also checked the CCTV cameras at the front of the school for confirmation."

Now what should I say? Working on the assumption Linc would have been called into a similar meeting, not to mention my terrible lying ability, I'd have to stick with the truth and be as vague as possible.

"I was a little upset over the mistake I made in the recital, and he suggested getting something to eat or drink might help me to feel better. Also I hadn't eaten lunch, so I was hungry."

"Where did you go for this meal?"

"It wasn't a meal, just coffee and cake. Some café a few blocks away, but I don't remember the name. Linc... Lincoln, he chose it."

"And this was the first time you left the school grounds with him?"

"Yes."

"What time did you finish this...snack?"

"Uh, maybe six thirty? I didn't look at my watch."

"And did you return to the school?"

"No, my driver picked me up from the café, but I think Lincoln came back."

The dean leaned back in his chair, hands steepled in front of him. "Miss Takeda, here at Holborn we take the non-fraternisation policy very seriously. Any slip-ups could lead to favouritism over grades, non-regulation booking of practice rooms, or students being in the building during hours of closure. I suggest you read the relevant sections in the school handbook very carefully because if I hear of this happening again, it will be a disciplinary offence for you and Mr. Macbride. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

He gave me a tight smile. "Then you may go. I hope not to see you in here like this again."

"You won't." Because if Linc wanted to meet for coffee again, we'd just have to be careful we weren't spotted. While a more sensible girl may have heeded the dean's warning, I'd spent fifteen years being ordered around by a man whose idea of a disciplinary offence involved losing limbs. Beside him, the head of Holborn was a kitten. Claws? What claws? I was damn well sick of being told what to do.

The instant I got out, I headed for the nearest bathroom and locked myself in a stall. At least I had privacy in there. Fingers moving as fast as they could, I typed out a message to Linc.

Akari: The dean just told me off for going for coffee on Friday. Has he said anything to you?

The reply was almost instantaneous.

Linc: I saw you go in after me. What did you say?

Akari: Just that I was upset after the recital and we went for coffee together.

Linc: More or less what I said. I got a verbal warning but nothing more unless it happens again.

Akari: I'm so sorry.

Linc: Don't be. I knew there was a risk, but I couldn't keep away from you. I'm just sorry you got called in as well.

He couldn't keep away? Palms sweating, I tried to think of a reply, one that conveyed my own feelings but without coming across as ridiculously needy. I'd never been a risk-taker, but Emmy told me the real risk was to do nothing because that way you'd never truly live. And given that I'd felt more alive in the last two weeks than the year that came before them, I knew I had to take a chance.

Akari: Even if I had read the stupid handbook, I'd have gone anyway. Next time we'll need to leave separately and check nobody follows.

Nothing. Silence. Two minutes ticked by and Linc didn't reply. Panicking, I sent another message.

Akari: If you want there to be a next time?

I sat on the closed toilet lid and stared at the phone, willing it to light up.

Linc: Too damn right I want there to be a next time. Give me a minute. Thinking about logistics.

Not long after, a map arrived, showing the way to a bar six blocks away. Not the kind of place I'd typically go, but if Linc was there, I'd give it a try.

Linc: You've got practice until eight, right?

Akari: How do you know?

Linc: Il Duce booked the room every evening for the rest of the semester.

Oh, hell.

Akari: Yes, I have practice until eight. Unless Jansen decides to carry on through the night which is entirely possible.

Linc: You'll finish at eight, trust me. Can you walk to the bar? I swear I'll be right behind you, even if you don't see me.

I'd promised Emmy I wouldn't go out alone without bodyguards, but no way was I going to call her up and explain the situation. She'd probably scare Linc off by having a team of investigators rake through his life then send out a plague of her men to follow me everywhere.

Akari: I can do that.

Linc: Then I'll see you later.

"Boyfriend not here tonight?" The look of triumph on Jansen's face when he caught me looking at my watch left me under no illusion as to who'd reported Linc and me to the dean.

"He's not my boyfriend, as you well know."

A quarter to eight, and Jansen showed no sign of letting up. I'd been waiting for Jude to make a move, hoping to follow him out, but so far he seemed unusually subdued.

"That's what you say. Shall we go again from the top?"

I started to play, my mind on other things. Trust him, Linc said, and I tried to, but where was he?

I found out at five to eight.

"Holy hell," Jude said. "That sounds like a power saw."

Sure enough, when Jude yanked the door open, there was Linc, bent over a portable workbench. He grinned up at us. "Don't mind me, people. It's time these baseboards were replaced. Figure if I spend a bit of time each night for the next month, I'll get it done."

Jansen's face went red while Jude muttered a silent thank you to the heavens.

"You can't do this," Jansen sputtered. "I'll report it to the dean."

Linc produced a sheet of paper from his pocket. "The dean signed off on the work order. I happened to be in to see him this afternoon, and we had a nice chat about it. He thought renewing some of the woodwork was an excellent idea."

"You... You..."

"Yes?"

Jansen reversed into the room, forcing Jude and me back inside.

"That man is unreasonable." He pointed at me. "Do something."

I held my hands up. "I can't. Clause 137.6 of the student handbook forbids me from speaking to him."

The sound of the door slamming behind Jansen was sweet music to my ears, and I turned to Jude in relief. "Thank goodness. No more ridiculously late finishes for a while."

He gathered up his cello. "Thank your boyfriend for me, would you?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Sure he isn't."

Twenty-nine years old, and the last time I'd walked down a street alone was sixteen years ago and look where that landed me. But Linc had asked me to trust him, and he'd already come through for me once tonight. I had to believe he was watching over me.

The moon threw long, jagged shadows across the sidewalk as I scurried along, listening for footfalls behind. I heard nothing, which only made me walk faster. By the time I saw the lit sign of the Blue Moon bar up ahead, I was practically running.

I paused for a few seconds to get my breathing under control before I pushed inside. Even without opening the door, the vibrations of the music ran through me. Someone in there had no concept of volume.

No sooner had I stepped over the threshold, I felt rather than saw Linc at my back. He didn't touch me, but he got so close I could feel his body heat, then the soft whisper of breath as he bent to speak in my ear.

"Sorry, I didn't realise they'd have live music on. It's never usually this busy. You want to go somewhere else?"

Yes, but at the same time, I desperately wanted to behave like a normal person. Everyone else around me was laughing or smiling or dancing, and I refused to let fear beat me down yet again. I quickly shook my head before I could change my mind.

"In that case, head for the bar. We'll get a couple of drinks."

Nerves buzzing from Linc's proximity, I walked hesitantly towards the sea of bodies blocking my way, wondering how on earth I was going to get through them. Then his arms came around me like a protective cage as he gently pushed me forward. Before I had time to panic, we'd made it to the wooden counter, and Linc placed one hand on the edge either side of me, preventing the jostling crowd from coming any nearer.

Now that we were closer to the music, he almost had to shout to make himself heard.

"What do you want?"

How about a medal and a round of applause?

"A glass of white wine." I deserved at least that.

"Not sure they serve wine in here. Beer, spirits, or soft drink?"

I'd never tried beer, but this was a day for doing new things, and it seemed appropriate for this sort of establishment.

"I'll have a beer."

"A beer. Got it."

He ordered a cola for himself then looked for a table. The band had just stopped for a break, and people milled around everywhere, heading for the bathrooms or the bar or outside for some fresh air. After five minutes of waiting, we ended up in a dimly lit back corner with me perched on the only free stool.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit down?" I asked.

"I'm good. No, here with you, I'm more than good."

"Thanks for getting me out of practice. You should have seen Jansen's face when you started up the saw."

"Wish I'd been there. The downside is that I really do have to replace the baseboards, but I figured it was worth a few late nights."

"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"Smile." He reached out and traced the contours of my lips with his index finger. "Just smile."

When his hand dropped, I caught it in mine and held it in my lap, afraid that if I let it go the moment would end. The band struck up again, making conversation impossible, but we didn't need to speak. Just being near Linc, even in a dingy bar with a drink I didn't much like, was enough to turn the day from a journey through hell to a dream of paradise.