Page 32 of Written in the Stars
“Baby? Sweetheart? My moon and stars?” The amount of pleasure Elle took in Darcy’s deepening look of disgust was second to none. “We forgot to think up pet names.”
“Let’s not.” Darcy thanked the attendant when they slid a stack of tickets beneath the plexiglass divider. “We’re trying to sell it to my brother, not make him think I’ve had a personality transplant.”
“WhereisBrendon?” Elle craned her neck, searching the crowd for Brendon’s tall frame and mop of auburn hair.
“Searching for his date.” Darcy gestured to an empty bench against the wall beside the posted sign that saidTOURS START HERE. “She thought we were meeting at the bar first.”
Elle followed as Darcy led the way across the room and tried not to stare. Darcy wore dark, high-waisted, figure-huggingjeans tucked into a pair of brown riding boots that made their height difference a little less disparate, and her green sweater brought out the honey-colored flecks in her eyes. Not that Elle cared about Darcy’s eyes or that the color she wore complemented them. It was a passing observation, that was all. The sky was blue. The grass was green. Darcy was beautiful. Universally acknowledged truths.
Darcy’s butt barely touched the bench before she stood back up. “There they are.” She pointed across the room to the doubled-doored entrance before quickly spinning back around to face Elle. The corners of her mouth puckered, her nostrils flaring delicately. “Okay, here’s the plan. If Brendon starts digging for details, let me do the talking.”
“That’s a terrible plan, baby.”
“It’s agreatplan, and don’t call me baby.”
“I’m not going mute to make you happy.I’lllook like the one who’s had a personality transplant. Besides, we have a game plan. We discussed it. You don’t get to pick the gameandmake all the rules, Darcy.”
Elle had agreed to fake a relationship, but she refused to be anyone other than exactly who she was, not for her family, not for the people they set her up with, and definitely not for Darcy. If the idea of being coupled up with her was so objectionable that a few pet names got Darcy huffy, she should’ve thought twice before fibbing to her brother.
Darcy shot a quick glance over her shoulder and frowned. “Fine. Try not to oversell it and don’t offer up information unless Brendon asks.”
Before Elle could respond, Brendon spotted them throughthe crowd, waving and making his way over with a leggy brunette who was rocking the hell out of a pair of four-inch candy-apple red stilettos. Drool-worthy, but not exactly the right attire for heading underground.
“Hey, glad you could make it.” Brendon wrapped Darcy in a bear hug before giving Elle a quick, enthusiastic squeeze. “Guys, this is Cherry. Cherry, this is my sister, Darcy, and her girlfriend, Elle.”
Girlfriend, huh? Elle glanced at Darcy. She looked like she was about to argue but thought better of it, instead reaching out and resting a slightly stiff hand against the small of Elle’s back. Elle leaned into the touch and aimed a dazzling smile up at Darcy. That wasn’t so hard, was it?
“It’s nice to meet you.” Cherry nodded, slipping her fingers around Brendon’s elbow. “Cute dress.”
“Thanks.” Elle tugged at the skirt. “It has pockets.”
A man with a thick handlebar mustache approached. “Lowell party of four for the escape room?”
Brendon stepped forward and patted his pockets. “Yeah, I’ve got the tickets—wait.”
“I have them. You asked me to pick them up from will call, remember?” Darcy passed them to the man whose nametag readJim. He gave the stack a cursory glance before tucking them away inside the inner pocket of his blazer. “Follow me and mind the stairs.” He sighed heavily, mustache twitching when he caught sight of Cherry’s heels. “Terrain gets a touch uneven.”
Down a rickety set of wooden stairs, the man led them into a hall, lit by several flickering incandescent bulbs. The air was cool and damp and a little musty, earthy even. Moss—or maybe thatwas mildew—grew on the gray brick walls, concentrated around the grout lines. Somewhere, a pipe was leaking, the steadydrip, driplending to the overall vibe of abandoned decay.
“Ever been to the Underground before?” Jim asked.
Everyone shook their heads.
“Quick bit of history before I give you the backstory for your one-of-a-kind escape room experience. In 1889, thirty-one blocks were destroyed in the Great Seattle Fire. The buildings were rebuilt and the streets were regraded a couple stories higher than what was previously street level, a strategic decision to prevent flooding from Elliott Bay.”
Jim gestured around them to where the hall branched to the left and right. “Seattle Underground, as we now know it, is a network of passageways that existed at ground level prior to the regrade. For a time, pedestrians and business owners continued to use these underground sidewalks, but that all changed in 1907 when the city condemned the Underground out of fear of the bubonic plague. As a result, portions of the Underground were left to deteriorate. Opium dens, speakeasies, gambling halls, brothels, and doss houses cropped up, operating in the literal shadows of society, right beneath everyone’s feet.”
If the walls down here could talk, she could only imagine the sorts of seedy, scary stories they’d tell.
“Which brings us to your escape room.” Jim set off down the hall to the left at a quick clip, waving for them to follow. When Cherry stumbled on a loose cobblestone, Darcy rolled her eyes.
“Is there a theme? Or are we just trapped in the Underground trying to escape?” Elle asked.
Jim smoothed his mustache with a finger. “Is there a theme? she asks.” He stopped in front of a nondescript door, wooden and without windows or special markings. “The year is 1908. Each of you were unfortunate enough to lose family during the reconstruction that followed the Great Fire, prompting you to seek closure by communing with your loved ones via a séance.”
Ever the skeptic, Darcy snorted.
Elle couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease. “Psst. Your Capricorn is showing.”
