The Final Note (DJ Series Book 1)

by Helen J. Barnes

  “Wow, now that is what you call a car. Damn, it must be amazing to drive.”

  I can only imagine being in control of power like that, knowing enough about cars to know it’s got to be a 2.3 litre engine and the top end of 300+ break horse power. Well, my dad is a bit of a car enthusiast being a driving instructor and he more than emphasised that sports models like this need to be driven with care or they could.. how did he put it? Bite your head off. It definitely looks like a monster of a motor.

  “This is my baby. I haven’t named her but she is definitely my bitch.” He chuckles and I run my fingertips across the paintwork which shines, polished and waxed to a sparkle that could blind in bright sunlight.

  “She is bloody gorgeous. You have got to let me drive her, one day.” I look at him pleadingly and he gives me a lopsided smirk.

  “Maybe, one day. For now, I’ll show you what she is capable of.”

  I slip into the passenger seat, the feel of the cool leather is amazing against my bare thighs. Dayton starts the car and the engine sparks in a low grumble that sounds sexy and powerful as hell. We pull away from the kerb and Dayton asks me directions to my house which is pretty close by. Crestfallen I realise this is going to be a short drive.

  “How long have you owned her?”

  “Almost seven years. Before this I drove a Focus RS which was a great drive, I just felt like a change and I’ve always loved Japanese imports so I treated myself.”

  I run my fingers across the leather. Wow, what a treat! It’s a treat just to be driven in her.

  “She must be your pride and joy?”

  Dayton shakes his head. “I love her, I won’t deny that. My real pride and joy though is my recording studio.” I’m surprised by this but only for a minute. The passion with which he spoke about his music earlier made it pretty apparent that his work is his life. He definitely lives for his music.

  All too soon we pull up outside my house and I thank him, collecting up my ribble and sunglasses. He leans across the centre console and runs his hand up to the side of my face, gently pulling me in for a kiss. I close my eyes and savour the feeling of his lips on mine. Just his touch sends a thrill straight into my underwear, only I’m not wearing any. A small moan slips from me and he smiles against my mouth.

  “You better get inside before I lock these car doors and take you hostage to my flat,” he whispers against my mouth before laying another small kiss on my lips then sitting back in his seat.

  “I’ll see you Friday.” I smile before opening the door and climbing out, all too aware he has a perfect opportunity to check out my ass. I round the car and give him a small wave and he waves back before he pulls away, roaring off down the street. Once he is out of sight I almost squeak, he is so fucking amazing!

  Chapter 4

  On Wednesday I go through my whole portfolio with my tutor at college and she assures me I’m well on my way to graduating with flying colours. I couldn’t be happier. As much as I love working at Hallam Sports for the easy wage, the work does get monotonous and I’m looking forward to getting into a more challenging work environment that will keep me stimulated.

  Thursday proves to me how much I’ve had my fill of the sports shop when I come close to snapping at a very rude child and his mother who thought it would be fun to try on every pair of trainers the boy likes the looks of only to end up buying the first pair he tried on.

  I almost slam the trainers on the counter for Gemma and she flinches. “Whoa, who got up your nose?”

  I roll my eyes and tip my head to indicate the two picky shoppers who are still browsing. “They’ve been here the best part of half an hour already. Ten pairs of declined trainers I have to put back in that store room. I mean, they say us women are too picky.” I’m grumbling and just whinging if truth be told.

  “Why don’t you take a break? It’s slow and Josh will be okay on his own for ten minutes.”

  I look around the nearly deserted shop and decide to take her advice. I nod.

  “Sod it, I’m going to. This place is driving me crazy today. If David comes out of the office tell him I desperately needed a bathroom break. Ladies’ troubles.”

  I smirk, knowing this will make David too uncomfortable to question me.

  I stop by my locker and collect my phone before going out to sit in Phil in the staff car park. I leave the door open and enjoy the warm sunshine whilst flicking through my phone, bored. I see Dayton’s number and bring the memory of his face to mind. The look on his face before he kissed me is a memory I’ve been revisiting – a lot! I open our past text conversations and smile to myself. Without another thought I type out a quick text message.

  Hey, are we still on for tomorrow? I’m thinking we should up the game and make it 8k. What do you think? Can you handle it? I’m looking forward to seeing you again. x

  I put my phone on the dashboard while I open a pack of chewing gum I keep handy in the car. I’m surprised when his reply is almost instant.

  The longer the run the bigger the forfeit, but I’m happy to up the stakes ;) I’m really looking forward to it. Can’t wait to see you! xx

  His text makes me smile as I chew the spearmint gum. He sounds really eager and I wish it was tonight we were meeting. I’m also very curious as to what forfeit he has in mind for me if he wins. That’s a big if though.

  I have no intention of letting you win so the forfeit doesn’t bother me :) I can’t wait to see you either. You’ve been a very welcome distraction from this bore-hole I call work. Anyway, is it even safe for you to be texting while you’re at work? Xx

  I’m perfectly safe, don’t worry. Sounds like you’re more than ready for a change in vocation? Who said you had to let me win? I plan on winning fair and square ;) xx

  I check my watch and see I should think about heading back but I’m really enjoying the textathon so I return to the shop floor with my phone on silent in my pocket. It’s something David hates and I’ll be in for the high jump if he sees me using it. In the storeroom I hit reply.

  I’m not even sure you know how to play fair? I think you’re scared of being beaten by a girl ha ha Xx

  I start replacing the declined stock the young boy decided weren’t his type. Josh pops into the storeroom but doesn’t acknowledge me in his search for the goods his customer has requested. I feel my phone vibrate and when he leaves I fish it out to read Dayton’s reply.

  I’m not worried about you beating me. I have no shame losing a race to a very fit opponent like you. I do know how to play fair, but sometimes fair isn’t fun and I think you like fun just as much as me xx

  The replies fly between us regularly until closing time and I’m eager to get out of the building, I’ve definitely seen enough of the place for today. I’m just in the cloakroom typing out a text before heading home.

  I have to drive now, I’m not ignoring you but I won’t use my phone whilst driving. Firstly, I know how dangerous it is. Secondly, my dad taught me better and thirdly, I know it’s your pet hate. Xx

  I’m pleased to hear it! How about we talk instead of text? xx

  I frown at my phone as I leave the building, my head down texting out a reply.

  “Wow. Alannah Matthews, you are one lucky, lucky bitch,” Gem says and I look up at her with a furrowed brow to see her incline her head towards the customer car park.

  Dayton is leant against his car, arms folded with a cocky smile on his face. My mouth falls open slightly; he looks every inch the sex god. Both man and machine a picture of power. I give myself a harsh mental slap and smile back. I head over to where he’s parked.

  “Well, this is a surprise. Turning up at my workplace twice in one week, people will talk.”

  “A nice surprise?” He seems genuinely concerned and I nod that it is. “Then let them talk.”

  Without warning he takes my hand and pulls me to his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist. I go willingly, my hands slipping up around the back of his neck. He tips my face up to his with a finger unde
rneath my chin, his blue eyes look incredibly pale in the bright sunlight.

  He kisses me gently and I savour the feel and taste of him against my mouth, all blood instantly starts to head south and my heart breaks into a gallop. He begrudgingly ends the kiss but rests his forehead against mine, his eyes holding me captive, his voice a whisper.

  “I know I was supposed to see you tomorrow but I didn’t want to wait.”

  I grin and hold my lip between my teeth, glad he didn’t. “Me either.”

  “Join me for dinner?” I look down at our clothes and frown. I can’t go out for dinner dressed like this. “At my place, I’ll cook.”

  “You can cook?”

  “I’m not Gino D’acampo but I’m sure I can rustle something edible up.” He laughs and I find the proposal very appealing.

  “Okay, sure. I’ll follow you in my car.” He quickly kisses me again before releasing me and unlocking the Evo.

  I can’t wipe the cheesy grin off my face as I go get into Phil and pull out of the car park behind him. I follow him through the afternoon traffic and we pull up outside his place, a three story house that’s been renovated into flats. He quickly exits the Evo and comes to open my car door. I flick him a thankful grin, loving the small act of chivalry.

  “I apologise if the place isn’t very tidy, this wasn’t premeditated.”

  I bat away his comment and he unlocks the front door, standing aside for me to enter first. I step into a narrow hallway with magnolia walls with pop art hung on either side. It leads all the way to the back of the house with doors leading off on either side. We take the first door on the right which leads into a bright living room. The large bay window lets light into the sparsely furnished room. It’s minimalistic with more magnolia walls apart from the picture wall which is modern black and grey striped with a wall mounted flat screen TV. There’s a black leather corner sofa on the opposite wall with a black and white print of the London city skyline hung above it.

  “Make yourself at home.” Dayton smiles and I drop my handbag onto the sofa, taking a seat. On the left there are modern smoked glass shelves with a pair of Pioneer CD decks and a mixer, a pair of speakers and a pair of headphones. I’m surprised by how devoid of character the room is. The low smoked glass coffee table in the middle of the room has a coffee cup and a MixMag magazine on it but there is nothing out of place.

  “I thought you said the place was untidy?” I tease. “This is like my room at home when I’ve had a huge de-clutter.”

  “I hate clutter, it clutters my mind.”

  He heads off through an archway next to the decks on the left. “Would you like a drink while you wait for dinner?”

  I follow him through to a bright, incredibly tidy kitchen. The units are gloss white with black granite worktops and yes, more flipping magnolia! He opens the fridge before pulling out a couple of bottles of Budweiser. “Bud?” His eyebrows wiggle in a teasing gesture.

  “I don’t smoke.” I laugh in reply, remembering his offer of bud at Luke’s house party. “No, seriously, I don’t drink very often.”

  “Do you mind if I have one?”

  “Of course not, go ahead.”

  “I can offer you Pepsi, orange juice, tea, coffee, water.”

  “Orange juice would be great, thanks.”

  I take a stool at the kitchen island and he hands me my drink. He flicks the radio on and I watch him move gracefully around the kitchen putting a pan on to boil before adding noodles, stock and broccoli.

  “Chicken stir fry is okay with you, isn’t it?”

  “Sounds perfect. You have a great place here, you haven’t stamped your character on it much, but it’s nice.”

  He gives me a small grin whilst cutting chicken into strips while a wok heats a little oil. “Well, I always have the intention of losing some of the magnolia but I always find something more exciting to do.”

  “What about putting up some pictures or something though. It looks like you’ve prepped it for selling.”

  “Not what you imagined then?”

  “I don’t know what I expected to be honest. I just thought there would be more of your personality spread about the place.”

  “I’ll get around to it one day. When I’m at home I spend most of my time in the studio anyway. I’ll show you after dinner,” he says while browning the chicken and prepping veg.

  An FnF dance remix of John Legend’s ‘All of Me’ comes on the radio. It’s so catchy and soon has my toe tapping. “You like this track?”

  “It’s the first time I’ve heard it. I love the euphoric sound to it. Can you remix tracks like this?”

  “Sure. Some tracks are easier than others.”

  He throws the peppers, onions and mushrooms into the wok and he seems to move to the music with his actions. I silently admire the flex of his muscles in his arms and shoulders as he works. When he drains the noodles and broccoli he quickly warms them in the wok before plating up.

  The Vamps ‘Shout About It’ comes on the radio, slowing the pace and making the atmosphere suddenly much more intimate. I thank him for my meal.

  “Do you like music like this? Slow chart music?”

  He shrugs, tucking into his plate of food. I follow his lead and the meal is delicious, satisfying my appetite perfectly.

  “This kind of music is perfect for occasions like this, enjoyable meals with good company. It’s not my favourite genre and not something I would listen to alone, but every genre has its audience. What kind of music do you enjoy?”

  “Like you have just said, it varies according to my mood and what I’m doing. I like RnB or Garage to run to. I like club music but I also appreciate amazing singers like Aloe Blacc, Adele, Emile Sande.”

  “I can admire writers even though their music isn’t exactly to my taste. Gary Barlow for instance, fabulous writer but I’m not a huge Take That fan.”

  I tut and shake my head. “Take That are amazing. I am a diehard fan of the group, right from the beginning.”

  “My sister would agree with you. I’m not saying they don’t deserve all they have achieved, their music just isn’t top of my pops. Howard Donald is cool though, did you know he was a DJ when the band took a break?”

  “Yes. So he gets extra kudos?” I giggle.

  “Of course.”

  After dinner we take our drinks through to the living room and sit on the sofa, chatting, laughing and making each other answer random questions. I find out that if he could have any three guests (dead or alive) to a dinner party he would have Tiesto, Mauro Picotto and Pete Tong.

  “Tiesto and Pete Tong I’ve heard of but not Mauro Picotto, who is he?”

  “Oh, god. Are you serious? Are you trying to tell me you’ve never even heard of Komodo? Pulsar? All classic techno-trance tracks.” He seems blown away by my ignorance and I shrug.

  “I might have heard the tracks but I don’t recognise the name.”

  “Come with me,” he demands and offers me his hand, pulling me to my feet. “I’ve got to play you some of his work.”

  He guides me down the hallway leading to the back of the house and we take the second door on the left. I’m surprised when I find myself in his bedroom, which is magnolia apart from a blue and silver vertical striped picture wall which actually has a picture hung on it. The first real bit of personalisation in the whole flat thus far. It’s a large picture frame with lots of smaller pictures all compiled together with the word ‘Friends’ written in blue across the middle. He must see me looking at it.

  “It was a gift. Here, my studio is through here.” He opens a door on the left which turns out to be a small and very compact room. There is music equipment against three of the four walls with what seems like a million knobs, switches, faders and keyboards. There are two large flat screen monitors mounted on the wall and an office chair that sits snuggly amongst the desks of equipment. The whole room reeks of expense and intimidation. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to learn how to work all these machines.
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br />   Dayton fires up a computer and one of the monitors comes to life. The speakers turn on, filling the room with a white noise. He pulls up a file and clicks play, a bass line instantly kicks in but the track doesn’t sound familiar. I frown in concentration, trying to place the track but I can’t.

  “Wait until the melody kicks in, you’ll get it straight away.” Dayton seems convinced but I just don’t think I’ve heard it before. Then the melody kicks in and the penny drops.

  “Of course! Everyone’s heard this track.”

  “I know, right.” He laughs. “To be able to produce classic club tracks like this, timeless tunes, god, what a dream. This is on any clubbers’ playlist, I think everyone remembers a time they listened to it at least once.” His eyes look wistful, hopeful and his passion for music is apparent, it’s in his blood.

  “You’ll do it,” I assure him before stepping further into the room. “You’ve got what it takes, there’s something different about you. You deserve it.”

  He spins in the seat, looking up at me with gratitude on his handsome face. “That’s very nice of you to say. I hope you’re right but the big break comes for one in a million, I’m not sure I deserve it that much.”

  “That’s a very defeatist attitude. I thought you were an optimist? You’re different, Dayton, you’re special.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m eager but not special.”

  “I think you are. You have this aura around you that is almost contagious. I feel different around you, it’s like I’m in the presence of a star already.” I’m being brutally honest; this guy just oozes talent and superstar quality. It can be a little intimidating. But then he speaks to you, so down to earth and grounded. It’s not like a disappointment though. You’re not finding out your superhero is a creep, you’re finding out the person you hold up on a pedestal is actually a real person and a thoroughly lovable, humble person.

  Our eyes meet, blazing blue to honest brown, he seems speechless and my words hang in the air. With no hesitation he grips my wrist, pulling me onto his lap in the computer chair. Our lips meet in a demanding clash and my hands instantly reach up into his hair, holding his mouth to mine as our tongues dance. My pulse starts to race as lust pools deep in my belly, rippling outwards and taking my breath away. He pulls away briefly.