“I’m more than okay. But I’m worried Darius might respond to our messages and come down here. What if he goes into the viewing room? Get dressed, Raff!”
CHAPTER6
RAFF
Billie’s fallen asleep.She looks almost ethereal with her red-streaked dark hair spread out around her. The twinkle lights and nodding reindeer in the room give the whole scene a dreamlike quality. She had a moment of panic after we’d had sex, insisting we both put our clothes on just in case Darius turned up unexpectedly. I think she was worried she’d just crossed all the lines by sleeping with her boss in the workplace.
But after an hour, she started to relax. I told her some corny jokes, trying to work up to telling her what I do for a living. Billie matched my pathetic attempt at humor with some of her own, which made me double up with laughter. If I wasn’t already convinced that I’d found my perfect woman, her dad jokes took it to the next level. Her head rested in my lap, her beautiful body stretched out as I stroked her hair. She kept yawning and then dozed off.
I’m sitting here, staring at her, trying to find the right words to say I’ve been lying to her.
Well, keeping the truth from her. Because I’m terrified she’ll read all my bad press, watch a couple of videos and then tell me to get lost. And I can’t lose her. I haven’t felt like this before, this mad mix of vulnerable and excited at the same time. It’s like she could effortlessly lift me to the highest highs and then crush me if she wanted to.
How can I convince her that I’m not the same person I used to be? Will she even believe me? I can’t lose her, now that I know how infinitely precious she is.
Despite what Billie said about it being impossible to solve the escape room puzzle, I pick up the laminated card that sits on the table. And then I put it down again. It might as well be written in Finnish, for all I can decipher it. This place doesn’t get a lot of repeat business and some of the reviews are scathing. Wyatt’s been too soft, and he’s going to need to have a stern word with Darius.
I lean over carefully so I don’t disturb Billie’s sleep, picking up the iPad, which controls the door. Five years ago, I played a gig in Rome where the decks had a really complicated setup, designed by a technical whiz kid a little like Darius. He told me that he always put in a frustration option, where you could press all the buttons at once and it would activate or disable the system. Something to do with the Millennium Falcon, although I wasn’t sure if I understood him properly.
It’s worth a try. I hold down the exit and entry buttons, plus some others that I have no idea what they do. Dry ice starts spurting from the exit, and to my surprise, it swings open.
I gently stroke Billie’s hair and lean down to whisper in her ear.
“Wake up, beautiful. The door’s open. I think we need to take our chance to get out of Santa’s prison as quickly as possible…” I stroke her hair.
Her eyes open slowly and she sits up. “Raff! You superstar! How did you do it?”
“I knew the Finnish for Santa.” I wink. “Not really. I pressed all the buttons at once.”
She laughs and grabs my hand. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Before that temperamental door decides it wants to close again.”
Once we’re outside, we both lean against the wall and start laughing again. It’s been such a wonderful and ridiculous night, exploring each other’s bodies with all the Santa paraphernalia in the background. Billie stretches and then heads for the bathroom. I leave another message on Darius’s cellphone, telling him we won’t be having any more clients in the room until he’s sorted out the operating system.
There’s a clinking noise from behind the bar. We aren’t alone? I walk over and Dave stands up, weaving slightly.
“Mate! I tracked you down! I knew you were here, but I couldn’t find you.” He smells like peppermint schnapps. His clothes are disheveled, like he’s slept in them and his remaining hair is all messed up. He’s grinning at me like he’s won first prize. Seeing his face again, with all the memories of how self-destructive I used to be on the road, makes my heart sink.
Shit. Billie’s still in the bathroom, but I don’t want her to meet Dave. I need to tell her in a gentle way, not like this.
“How the hell did you find me?” I sit on the stool in front of the bar.
“Private investigator. Spent quite a bit on that, but he was good. You weren’t answering your calls. How was I meant to get in contact? Look, I can get us both on a jet to Dubai in three hours. Five hundred thousand, mate. You could buy about twenty houses in this weird little Christmas town, if that’s what you’re into…” He pours himself some more alcohol, unsteady on his feet.
“Can we take this outside?” I whisper.
“Why? You want to fight about it?” Dave shakes his head. “I thought sobriety would make you all peace-loving and all of that. But yeah, we can have a punch up if it makes you feel better. Then we need to get to this gig. I’ll see if I can get those topless stewardesses on the plane. That will soften the blow since you’re not drinking.”
“Dave, no. I’m not doing that kind of thing anymore. I told you, I’ll pick and choose which events I do when I’m ready to do them. I’m working on my own music now.”
He shakes his head. “You play other people’s music. Not your own. No money in it. Every DJ thinks he’s a creative now. Just show up and play the damn songs. We were making a million a month during summer, three years ago. Everyone knew who you were. How can you walk away from that?”
“Walk away from what? You’re a millionaire?” Billie asks from behind me.
Fuck.
“Sweetheart, he’s a multi-millionaire. I guess this naughty boy was going incognito in this tiny town. This is the famous DJ Extra.” Dave tries to clap me on the back, but I shift away from him.
“DJ Extra? That rings a bell. Something to do with a rollercoaster and a topless…” Billie’s voice trails off.
