John Mayer - Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
I run over to the back room where we have our switchboard and press the button that should control the front door. "Did it do anything?" I yell out to Dalton.
"Nope!" He yells as I continue to stab more buttons. I don't even know what Gerry does when this happens. I want to call him, but I know he'll be with his family now getting ready for festivities.
"Let's call Sebastian," he suggests when I walk back out.
"Oh, god. I don't want to disturb him," I'm already starting to panic. I'd hate to be stuck here, something about it makes me feel claustrophobic. The fact that we can't get out.
"Don't be silly, he's afraid of me," he muses, trying to lighten my mood. I can't help but giggle.
"That's bizarre! Seb is not afraid of you."
Raising a brow, he says, "Seb? You have a nickname for him now? Since when are you both so close?"
I roll my eyes at him, "since we've become 'business partners'. He's very fun to work with."
"Hmm," he starts typing on his phone, "maybe I should be stricter with my staff. Seems as though there's been more play than there has been work."
I scoff playfully.
He pulls a sheet off one of the sofas before sitting on it. He looks so calm. How is he not freaking out?
"Did he reply?" I'm pacing now.
"Uh, no, not yet. He hasn't seen my text," he replies, glancing down at his phone.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," my hands are clenching and unclenching, and I can feel the panic start again.
"Will you please just sit down?" He begs me, gesturing to the spot beside him. I contemplate it, and because I've been on my feet for the whole day, I nod.
In an anxiety-fuelled spiral, I ramble, "Shit, everyone will be off on holidays and they'll never find us! Oh god... what if we can't ever find a way out? We're gonna starve to death or the heating won't work and we'll get hypothermia!"
Dalton is silent as I'm speaking until he finally laughs. He fucking laughs, a deep and contagious one. I stare at him, in awe of how he'd ever find this situation funny.
"We're not gonna die in here. You're getting so worked up! I'm sure Seb will read my message soon, and then we'll get out. If worse comes to worst, I'll break a window open. I'm just trying not to be dramatic."
"Dramatic? I'm not being dramatic," I shake my head, crossing my arms.
"I didn't say that. I'm saying we're gonna be fine. The heating is fine, and if we don't get out until the morning, at least we can get a McDonald's breakfast."
I roll my eyes once more and he must notice that I'm fidgeting with my nails, a nervous habit I never managed to break no matter how hard my mother tried. It's in moments like this one where I wish I had more games on my phone, or more books so I'm preoccupied and not worrying about the uncertainty of this situation. Deep down, I know we'll get out just fine. I have my charger if our phones die and I'm sure ancient hunter-gatherers didn't die after one night of no food.
It's the fact that I'm alone with Dalton once again, something we've been doing a little too often for a divorced couple. He turns me into a puddle of mash potatoes and it's so hard to keep my guard up when he's so charming, and so freaking heavenly!
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FAMILIAR
ChickLit"It's not about what she wants, it's about what we want, Dalton," his name rolls off my tongue and I realise it's been so long since I've said it. Between myself and Stella, we call him The Poltergeist. Because he won't get out of my life. "It's n...
