IMPORTANT!Billie, I’ve locked myself in the escape room. This is not a drill. Please come and release me ASAP! You aren’t answering your phone.
I groan.This is the last thing I need right now. I’m tempted to pretend I haven’t seen the email, but then Darius will be locked in there for Christmas Eve and possibly Christmas too. I’m a Grinch, but I’m not that mean.
I wash my face and pull on some clean jeans. The only thing I can find to wear that doesn’t need to be washed is the silly Christmas sweater my brother bought me a few years ago. It has a dinosaur covered in twinkle lights and says “Tree Rex” on it. It’s going to have to do. Maybe it will cheer Darius up. I wonder how long he’s been trapped in there?
When I get to work, I let myself in. The internal lights are on and the control iPad is on the table outside. I bang on the door of the escape room, but there’s no answer. I pick up the iPad and press the exit button. The dry ice starts up and the door opens.
Raff steps out of the escape room wearing a Santa hat.
I take a big step back.
“Where the heck is Darius?” I ask. Seeing him again, looking so handsome, is a big shock to the system. My body responds instantly to his presence, but my brain is screaming at me to stay away from this bad boy.
“I know you hate me right now, Billie, but please, just give me a couple of minutes.” He walks towards me. How can I believe a word he says?
I shake my head. “What have you done with Darius?”
“Darius was in on this. I’m sorry. I explained to him that I’m head over heels in love with you and we concocted a plan.” He’s still walking towards me and I hold up my hand, palm out.
“Stop right there, Buster. Or, should I say, DJ Extra? You won’t believe some of the stuff that people say about you online.” I raise my voice.
His eyes are fixed on mine. “I’m sorry you had to see that. And I made a huge mistake not letting you know about my past when I met you. I wanted you to judge me for who I am now, not who I was then. I promise, I’m a different person.”
“How do I know that? You could be just like my ex, a lying, cheating toad. And your timing… I can’t believe I’m having another shitty Christmas. Except this time, I don’t even have my family around to get me through it…” I stop, because I’m close to tears again.
Raff takes a step forward. “Billie, you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed about. I used to blot out my feelings with drugs and booze, and not care what happened. Because of my career, there’s evidence of that online. I’m not proud of it, or how I acted. But a future with you is my dream. Please, give me this chance and I won’t let you down.”
“Empty words.” How can I trust him? “Why didn’t you come and tell me this last night? I spent the evening looking at your exploits and bawling.”
“Dave passed out, had trouble breathing. Something to do with his heart’s rhythm. He’s in the hospital. I had to call his brother. I’ll visit him in a few days. Hopefully, this is a wake-up call for him.” He shakes his head.
“Oh.” He did the right thing. And from what I’ve seen of him, he’s acted thoughtfully every time something’s gone wrong. But what do I know? My judgment is probably off.
“I know I can’t prove it to you, but I’m never going to go back to the way I was. I want to make you happy, and if you give me a chance, I’ll spend my life doing it. Let me start by making your Christmas as special as I can.” He takes another step forward and puts his hands over mine.
The feeling of his warm hands is so reassuring that something cracks inside me. Maybe I’m making a terrible decision, but I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
He wraps his arms around me and I bury my head in his broad chest. He smells so good, like home mixed with his own particular woody scent. It makes my stomach leap.
I look up. “I’ll give you this Christmas. No promises, no disappointments. Let’s just spend Christmas together and get to know each other properly. You answer all my questions honestly and we’ll go from there.”
He smiles. “Sounds good. Can I start by kissing you?”
I don’t say anything but stand up on tiptoe and press my lips against his. Christmas with the bad boy?
It could be worse.
EPILOGUE
RAFF
Six monthslater
I’m backstage.
There’s a repetitive thudding that shakes the little dressing room, which is crammed with flowers and candy from well-wishers. I’m sure people have sent bottles of booze too, but those have been tactfully removed. The sun is setting and I’m the last act on the bill, which I’m grateful for as it’s been over one hundred degrees all day.
All the performers are separated from the festival goers in tents set up backstage. They each have fans and a big sofa, along with a bar area, table and chairs and a closet. The organizer of the festival has checked in on me a few times, since I’m top of the bill, but he’s mostly been dealing with a band who all arrived barely coherent on magic mushrooms. He’s been singing my praises for how low-maintenance I am, but he wouldn’t have said that a couple of years ago. I wince, remembering all the needless drama that used to follow me around.
