Shayna chokes.
He smiles broadly. “You’re staring at my zipper, dear.”
My roommate snatches her hand back, laughing nervously. “Oh God. Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he responds smoothly, giving me a pointed look. “At least someone is interested in this award-winning co—”
“Now is not the time, Tobias,” Banks interrupts, sharply. Quickly, he shakes Shayna’s hand. Gabe does the same, grunting. “Elise, we’d like ten minutes of your time.”
“That seems reasonable,” Shayna whispers, sounding as if she’s in a trance, her eyes skipping around from man to man. To man. “Isn’t that reasonable, Elise?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no. The reason I left before they woke up this morning was to avoid this conversation. The one where we put labels on whatever this is. The serious talk where we make this an ongoing thing. I knew it was coming. They weren’t happy with just one night. I’m not, either, but I’m terrified of what happens after six nights. Or ten. When I’ve let them see me at my most vulnerable and we’ve traded secrets, then suddenly, it ends. I’ve never had a relationship, friendly or romantic, with anyone that didn’t come to an abrupt stop and I’ve managed to avoid that pain successfully for a long time.
Is it so much to ask that they let me continue to do that?
Still, Banks is right when he says our “relationship” deserves more than a sneaky exit.
I can do ten minutes.
I’ll take that time to explain to them that I’m done.
It was a very nice experiment, but I’d like to quit while I’m ahead.
“Ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” Banks says, gesturing for me to precede him on the sidewalk. The other two men mimic his gesture, so I’ve got three men in wrinkled tuxedos gesturing at me like they’re a restaurant ma?tre d’ about to guide me to my table. I’m really starting to think my whole life has been one big hallucination since stepping onto that damn tram.
Shayna slowly turns to me, bewildered. “I don’t know if I should call the police or a documentarian.”
“Welcome to my world,” I mutter, stomping through the sea of tuxedos. “Come on, jerks.”
We walk for a few moments in silence, the three of them huddled around me like bodyguards. Tobias holds up a flat palm to stop a cab before it can cut in front of us, Gabe keeps a hand on the small of my back and Banks looks busy strategizing, the muscle in his cheek doing gymnastics. We’ve only traveled the length of a crosstown city block when Banks holds up his phone. “It’s going to start drizzling any second now. We should do this in a coffee shop.”
“Capital plan,” Tobias says briskly. “There’s one just ahead.”
“There’s a better one two doors past it.” Again, Banks gestures with his phone. “According to Yelp.”
There is something off here, but I can’t quite put a finger on it. Maybe the fact that it’s a clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. It’s more than that, though. Banks won’t make eye contact with me, which is unusual to say the least and oddly…makes me feel a tad off balance. “It’s not going to rain,” I say, hoping he’ll look at me. He doesn’t. “Banks—”
Before I can complete that sentence, I’m hustled through an open door. Into a very small establishment with one non-descript desk and beige, centuries-old carpet. The words Can You Break Out? are stenciled onto the wall in red ink, along with a peeling magnifying glass sticker. In smaller print are the words: New York’s Only 24-Hour Escape Room.
Okay. This is not a coffee shop. Five seconds is all the time Banks needs to gesture to the exhausted woman behind the desk and get a wave in return.
“I called about the prison theme,” he says curtly.
“This is who you were talking to on the phone in the cab?” Tobias asks. “I just assumed you were into some weird kink.”
I’m guided down a long hallway in too much of a stupor to react. And then I’m locked in an escape room with Banks, Tobias and Gabe.
A red timer appears above the door. Sixty minutes begins to count down.
My gasp can be heard clear to Texas.
No, they didn’t. This isn’t happening.
“This is kidnapping,” I say through my teeth.
“For the record, I didn’t know about this,” Tobias says, turning in a circle with a chuffed expression. “But I fully support it.”