“According to the financials we have just under two months to pull stuff together if I’m going to be able to keep things going. We won’t do all the rooms now. Just two or three to start and then as we gain more interest and earn money to cover operating costs, there will be a chance to expand per our original plan.”
Rachel considers this for a moment, her hand stilling midair before she continues with her task. “Which three do you think we should focus on? If you and I can narrow that down I’ll be able to start looking for locks, props, and mapping the puzzles to fit the room specs.”
“I liked the idea of a historic Dulaney one, but Logan brought up a good point a while ago as well. We could theme a few of the rooms to movies, like a nod to the theater itself, and that could be a good draw.”
“What if we use the theater’s history? I think I saw that this used to be a stage theater before it got chopped into smaller rooms for movies. What if we fabricate a mystery around the theater itself and that way we can add Dulaney touches but still have it feel unique to this space?” Her brows are furrowed low over those gorgeous dark eyes and I am transfixed by watching her brain work.
“You’re brilliant, you know that?” My words pull her out of her ruminating and she gifts me a blinding smile.
“That’s why you hired me.”
“I’ll see about recruiting some other people to help me with the reno so you can focus on that. We need to narrow down our theme ideas. They were all so great but if we’re scaling down they really have to pack a punch.”
Despite being on opposite ends of the room at this point, the emptiness of it makes our voices carry easier so it feels like she’s right beside me when she answers.
“I can take some of the room ideas we had and try to cross reference them with movies. We likely won’t be able to mention them outright due to legalities but I’m sure we can come up with some kind of work around. That way it’s on theme and feels cohesive from the start—even scaled down.”
We agree and Rachel sets up a little Bluetooth speaker to fill the silence while we work. It’s strangely companionable. Comfort in quiet. Steph never met a silence she couldn’t fill and at the time I thought that was a good thing because that way I was off the hook. But this, being in the same room with Rachel even if we’re not talking, feels peaceful in a way I can’t describe—grounding.
As day succumbs to night, our bodies dotted with sweat from the summer heat outside and the exertion of work, we finally finish gutting the second room around seven PM.
“You want to grab something to eat?” I ask, Rachel and I sitting against the wall and greedily gulping down the water that’s barely chilled at this point but refreshing nonetheless. We’re packed up for the day and ready to go but I don’t want it to be over yet.
“Looking like this?” She gestures to her work clothes, gunk and glue and dust making them look rough.
I don’t even want to think about how bad I look—or smell right now.
“Fair point.” One I can’t dispute and I wish I knew how to ask her what I really want to. But I’ve never been good at that. My needs are low on the list when compared to those of others.
Once I would have considered that noble, self-sacrificing for the sake of the person I was trying to help. Now, I know it’s just fear. Fear of rejection, fear of ridicule. I’ve kept so much of myself boxed up because I was terrified that when I finally built up the courage to ask I’d be let down. Can’t have unmet expectations when you won’t name them in the first place. But in doing so, shoving more and more of me down to be this blank slate of a person there only for the desires of others… I became complacent.
There is no right way to please everyone all of the time. I just wish I’d learned that lesson sooner. I might have saved myself a lot of time and energy.
“On the other hand . . .” Rachel says and pulls me from my wallowing literally and figuratively. Her small hand held out in front of me to help me up from my spot on the floor, she slides it into mine once I’m standing and we head through the exit.
“Yes?” I hope, waiting beside my car to know whether I’m staying or going.
“We could always pick something up along the way to my place, take a shower, and veg out?”
“I’d like that. Although I don’t have a change of clothes.”
Rachel smirks up at me and my chest tightens at the look on her face. “I have a washing machine, plus I’ve already seen you naked.”
“Once again, fair point. This is why you are the brains of the operation.”
I hold the car door for her and just before I shut the door she says my name. Resting my forearm on the roof of the car, I bend down slightly to give her my full attention.
“It might be worth bringing some clothes along for next time.” Her statement is simple, no underlying tone to it that tells me it might be a joke and my stomach clenches.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Next time.
Heart hammering in my chest, I close the distance between us, kissing her deeply for a moment, not caring that we’re downtown and the cars that are out on the road are having to slightly swerve to avoid me.
I shut the door and we make the short trek over to the Greek pop-up stall at the Orthodox church down the street from her apartment. Later, showered and clad only in a towel, we eat our gyros in the kitchen and spend the rest of the night tangled together.
Next time.
