Page 80 of Glamour and Grit

“Someone wants this date to have a happy ending,” she says from the bathroom.

“Don’t they always?”

She sticks her tongue out at me, stepping into view wearing a tight little black dress and knee-high boots. My pulse quickens. She can morph into different styles like nobody I’ve ever seen.

“You look incredible,” I say, my breath stolen by her beauty and presence.

“I’m glad you like it,” she says, then her eyes widen in fear. “We’re NOT taking your bike. Not in a dress this short. I know some women find it empowering to flash their undies, but I prefer some things left to the imagination.”

“Fair enough. We’ll take my truck.”

Which is coincidentally parked outside. She’s right, I practically do live here anyway. I even have a toothbrush in the bathroom hanging over the sink.

I take her to a French restaurant in Beverly Hills. The place is swank enough to be suitably elegant for date night, but not social media famous enough to be packed with morons taking photos.

I spring for champagne, and she cocks an eyebrow.

“Are we celebrating tonight?”

“Baby,” I say with a meaningful stare, “we’re celebrating every night we’re together.”

“Ooh,” she says, eyes narrowing and lips forming an O. “Good answer, but I still get the feeling you’re up to something.”

I take a sip of champagne and arch my brows.

“Who, moi? Whatever could I be up to other than showing you a good time?”

She gives me a suspicious look.

As we’re about to order dessert, I look up from the menu and catch her gaze.

“There’s a grotto on the roof. You want to take our dessert there?”

“That sounds lovely.”

I catch the waiter’s attention and give him a nod. He nods back, knowing it’s showtime. I really have to thank Easton for using her Hollywood influence to help me sweet talk the restaurant staff into this.

We take a metal spiral staircase to the roof. It’s not the tallest building in LA, but the view is still magical. Selene smiles, the wind gently blowing her bangs away from her face.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I surreptitiously check the screen. A message from Jax glows faintly in the soft light.

Is she in position?

I text back in the affirmative, and then wait. Time to see if Easton’s contacts paid off.

About ten very tense seconds pass by and nothing happens. I start to text Jax to ask what’s up. Then, the skyscraper across from us goescompletely black, the lights turning off all at once. Selene starts when the lights go out.

“What in the world? Is this the beginning of the apocalypse or something?”

The windows on the skyscraper light up in a flashing checkered pattern. They even change color across the spectrum. Selene’s gaze narrows. She’s getting suspicious that something’s up.

Oh, something’s up all right, baby. Just you wait.

The flashing slows, coalescing into a pixelated image of a man-shaped figure. Even with blocky pixels and few details, it’s obvious the figure is a trundling zombie. The zombie walks along, until he runs into a girl zombie, with a bow on her head.

The two figures kiss, and then the windows light up in a scintillating pattern which spells out words.

Selene, will you marry me?

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