Under the Spotlight

by Angie Stanton

  “It shouldn’t be that hard. She’s a huge fan of Jamieson.”

  Garrett did a double take. “Are you sure? I didn’t get that vibe.”

  “She keeps some things pretty close to the vest. Trust me, she just about lost it when she heard you were here.”

  “Funny, I thought she hated me from the moment I sat at the sound board.” He remembered the death stares she gave him that day.

  “She did; that is, once you took her seat at the board,” Logan said.

  “Oh shit.”

  “Bingo!”

  “I didn’t know it was hers. I thought Barry had been planning on me sitting in on the session. Well, I have an idea. Let me work out a couple of details and I’ll get back to you.” He stood.

  “I’ll be here,” Logan said as Garrett walked away.

  This was going to be fun. Sassy little Riley was a fangirl.

  16

  After leaving Barry’s office, Riley checked her phone. Two more texts. Another from her mom and one with extra exclamation points from Britta, begging her to call home. She called her mom first.

  “What’s going on?” Riley asked when her mom answered on the second ring.

  “Your brother has done something stupid again. I’m trying to get home, but my car won’t start. Can you go deal with it and let me know how bad things are?”

  “Mom, I’m at work. I can’t leave.”

  “You know I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t important. Britta said Matt’s bleeding all over the apartment. You’re close to the ‘L,’ so you can get there a lot faster than if I take a bus.”

  “What’d he do?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. Something having to do with a crowbar and a storage unit.”

  Riley collected her bag from the break room, and slid the check and paperwork from Steven Hunter inside. “I’m on my way. I’ll call you when I get there.”

  She ended the call and went in search of Ron, whose session she was supposed to work today. She found him listening to tracks in Studio D.

  “Ron, I have a family emergency, and my mom can’t get there. Is it okay if I take off for a while? I’m really sorry. I can work extra shifts this weekend to make up for it.”

  “That’s fine. If we need anything I’ll have Tara handle it. I hope everything’s okay.”

  “Thanks.” She hoped Matt was okay, too, so she could bawl him out. Whatever her brother had done, she was pretty sure it included breaking the law. As she walked to the “L” station, she texted Britta that she was on her way.

  Maybe she should have been stressed out; instead she relaxed in her seat for the ride to the South Side, and smiled as the train rumbled and clacked along the rail. She had a five-thousand-dollar check in her bag. Despite all the crazy in her life, something special had happened. In Riley’s experience, special didn’t come around very often.

  What should she do with her windfall? A year ago, she’d wanted to go to school. But now that she had her job at Sound Sync, her hands-on experience would probably get her a lot farther ahead than a degree in recording and music technology. She could certainly use a few things, and it would be nice not to worry about money. Making rent was always hard, so now she’d have an emergency cushion. She’d never had that before.

  Her phone buzzed. She looked down to see a text from Jason Edgette, and immediately smiled.

  It’s nice to see you singing again, he texted with a link to the Steven Hunter video.

  Riley laughed and texted back. It was a bizarre fluke. Don’t get your hopes up.

  The “L” reached her stop. She pocketed her phone and exited the nearly empty car and walked the final three blocks to the apartment, unprepared for what she found.

  Blood dotted the creaking wooden steps leading to the apartment. Inside, more droplets splattered the floor like bright paint. Dish towels piled next to the sink were soaked red.

  Britta came from the hall carrying more towels. “Riley, you’re here!”

  Riley saw the prone form of her brother on the couch with a yellow washcloth pressed against his face. “Matt, are you okay?” She tossed her purse on the kitchen table and ran to his side.

  Blood stained the front of his T-shirt and more had splattered on his pants.

  “I’m fine. I just can’t get my nose to stop bleeding.” He raised the towel enough to reveal a gaping cut on his upper forehead and a bruised nose that trickled blood as soon as the towel was removed.

  “Oh my God,” she uttered. “Who did this to you?” Her heart dropped to her shoes.

  “I did.” He grinned, revealing that half his front tooth was broken off.

  “Your tooth!”

  “Yeah, that’s probably not so good.”

  “Britta, rinse some washcloths in cool water and bring the bag of frozen peas.” She turned back to Matt. “And how did you manage to totally mangle your face?”

  “I was trying to pry the lock off a storage unit door. The crowbar slipped and knocked me in the face.”

  She shook her head. “What is wrong with you?”

  “It’s no big deal. We were just screwing around.”

  “At least you didn’t get caught. Did you?” She eyed him.

  “Of course not. But I kind of left a trail. I hope it rains.”

  Britta returned with the washcloths. Riley removed Matt’s bloody towel and dabbed his swollen face.

  She cringed at the sight of the open cut. Riley was no doctor, but she was certain he needed stitches. The blood kept running from his swollen nose. She wasn’t sure what to do. Even after banging the frozen veggies on the coffee table a couple times to loosen them up, the makeshift ice pack seemed too hard to put on his tender nose.

  “Here, hold this wet washcloth to your nose. Try pinching it.”

  Britta perched on the arm of the couch. “Should I call 911?”

  “No. This isn’t an emergency, but he better see a doctor. I’ll call Mom.”

  She wiped some of the blood off her hands and retrieved her phone from her purse.

  “Mom, he’s cut his head really bad and I think his nose is broken. Oh, and he chipped off most of a tooth. We should take him to Urgent Care.”

  “No, go to the hospital emergency room.”

  “Why? Urgent Care is closer.”

  “I don’t have health insurance right now, and the ER can’t turn him away.”

  Riley sighed and held back her temper. “Fine. Meet us there.”

  Her mother paused. “It might be a little while.”

  “Mom! Your kid is going to the hospital. You better be there or I’ll . . .” Riley didn’t know what she’d do.

  “Calm down. I’ll get there as soon as I can,” her mother said, sounding annoyed.

  Riley was tired of being the grown-up in their family, but nothing she did seemed to convince her mom to grow up.

  She turned to her siblings. “All right. We’re going to the emergency room. Britta, grab Matt a clean shirt to wear.”

  “Why? I’m gonna get blood all over it anyway.” Matt’s voice sounded muffled under the washcloth.

  “No cabdriver is going to let a kid covered in blood into his car.”

  Britta returned with a shirt. “We’re going to take a cab?” She brightened.

  “I’m not dragging him there by city bus.” She tried to guess how much this was going to set her back.

  Matt removed the towel and pulled off his blood-soaked shirt. Riley pinched the shirt by the edge, took it to the kitchen, and dropped it into the sink. When she returned, Matt had pulled on the new one. Before he could return the towel back to his nose, a big drop of blood plopped onto the front. He smirked.

  “Cover your nose,” Riley snapped. “Britta, bring along two clean towels. One for him to sit on and the other for the front of him.”

  It took some maneuvering, but she managed to get them all to a busy intersection four blocks away and into a cab. The driver watched them with curious eyes and seemed eager to be rid of the ragtag group.
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  Inside the crowded emergency room waiting area, the intake nurse handed Riley a clipboard and gave Matt a box of tissues. Riley filled out what she could on the form, but beyond name, address, and parent’s name, she really didn’t know what to put.

  “My mom is on her way. She’ll have to fill out the rest,” she said, handing the clipboard back to the nurse. Riley sat back down next to Britta and called her mom, but she didn’t answer. So help her, if her mom blew them off, she’d . . . freak.

  After an elderly man, a girl holding her arm, and a young mother with a screaming baby had all been taken back, Riley’s mom finally walked in.

  “Oh my God! Matthew, are you all right?” She flew to Matt’s side like an adoring mother. “You’re bleeding, oh, honey. How long have you been sitting here?”

  “A half hour,” he mumbled.

  “Well, that’s unacceptable.”

  Riley knew what was coming and prepared to sink into her chair.

  Her mom stormed to the intake desk and pushed past a hacking middle-aged woman. “Excuse me, but my son has been sitting here for nearly an hour. Why hasn’t he been seen?”

  “Ma’am. Patients are seen based on level of emergency. Your son will be seen as soon as we’re able. What’s his name?”

  “Matthew Parks. And he’s bleeding. At this rate he’s going to pass out from blood loss. I insist you take him back right now or I’ll report you.”

  Annoyed, the nurse furrowed her brow. “Please calm down. As I said, he’ll be seen as soon as possible. Could you please take a seat and complete the rest of this intake form?”

  “I will not sit down until my son gets the care he deserves. Who’s your supervisor? Who do I need to talk to?” she said loud enough to capture the attention of the entire waiting room.

  Matt glanced at Riley and rolled his eyes. Mom wasn’t around much, but when she was, it was always a show. Riley slouched down in her seat. This would be a good time to cut bait and run.

  “Ma’am. If you don’t calm down, I’ll have to call security.”

  “My son is injured, he’s probably hemorrhaging to death, and you’re worried about forms and security!”

  The people in the waiting room stared on uncomfortably.

  The door opened and a woman in blue scrubs appeared. “Matthew Parks?”

  The intake nurse raised an eyebrow. Riley’s mother ignored her and helped Matt forward as if he were an invalid, not a foolish delinquent. Riley sighed in relief. At least now the drama would be in another room.

  Two hours later, Matt was released with four stitches in his head and tape over his broken nose.

  “You look like you were in a bar fight and lost,” Riley said.

  “I’ve gotta post this.” Matt held his phone in front of himself. He grinned, revealing his broken-off front tooth, and took a picture. Riley cringed.

  “What are you gonna do about your tooth?” Britta asked, staring at the hole in Matt’s smile.

  “We’ll have to get him to a dentist, but it’ll have to wait until I can save up some money. I don’t get paid until next week, the rent is due, and the car won’t start half the time,” her mother said.

  “Mom, you can’t let him walk around like that indefinitely.”

  “Have you got a thousand dollars lying around to pay for a crown?” her mom asked.

  Riley stood silent, but burned to say more.

  Her mother huffed in satisfaction. “I didn’t think so. Let’s get out of here. I borrowed a car from a girl at work. I’ve gotta drop you guys off and get back.” They left the hospital and headed for the parking ramp.

  Riley mulled over what to do about the expensive crown. Why was she hesitating when she had a windfall in her bag? Of course she’d help out. “Mom. I can pay for it.”

  “What? How?”

  “I just got a bonus at work.”

  Her mom stopped short. “You did? How much?”

  “A thousand,” she lied.

  “That’s incredible. What kind of company gives a new employee a bonus?”

  There was no way she was telling her mom where the money really came from. “It’s a probation thing. They give it to everyone who passes the three-month mark.”

  “Well, Matt. It looks like it’s our lucky day. Riley, you hang on to that job, hear me?”

  Riley bristled. “I plan to.”

  “What do you guys say we stop for ice cream on the way home?” her mom offered.

  Riley wanted to feel good about sharing her money, but she didn’t.

  17

  After her mom dropped them back at the apartment, Riley stopped by her bank and deposited the miracle check from Steven Hunter into her savings account. She kept out a little bit for herself then caught the “L” and returned to work. She braced for another onslaught of pressure from Garrett, but he only smiled and said hi as she passed.

  “That was weird,” she said to Logan in the records room. She peeked out the door and watched Garrett disappear down the hall.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Garrett said hi to me and he seemed genuine, not, not . . .”

  Logan laughed, looking up from the file drawer. “Not what?”

  “I don’t know. Not like he was being a manipulative jerk for once.”

  “Maybe the guy likes you.”

  “Oh please. No way. He’s always sniffing after anything with a pretty face and tight pants,” she said.

  “I don’t know. I think he’s got the hots for you.”

  What was she supposed to do with that bit of news? It couldn’t be true. He liked sexy women who were confident and looking for action. Women like Candace Capri and even Tara. Riley was nothing like them.

  The days flew by. Riley worked with the band Amnesia, running to Starbucks for coffee, taking Nuggett for walks, and looking the other way when the band snuck off to snort something illegal.

  Garrett was becoming Mr. Popularity, bringing in treats every day. First came fresh doughnuts, then deep-dish pizza. The break room became a fun place to hang out. The bands would take breaks and everyone mingled freely, whether they be classical singer Mitchell Freeman, glam queen Candace Capri, the rock band Amnesia, or an indie rock group.

  The only downside was that Riley seemed no closer to sitting in the assistant engineer’s chair. She shouldn’t expect so much so soon, but knew what she wanted, and it seemed so elusive.

  The next day she arrived to work and discovered Logan and Garrett eating ice-cream cake in the break room.

  “Hi, Riley,” Logan said. Garrett smiled and nodded with his mouth full.

  “Whose birthday is it?” she asked.

  Garrett swallowed. “No one’s. It’s so hot out, ice cream seemed like a good idea. Want some?”

  “It’s really good,” Logan added.

  She put her bag away and grabbed a plate. “Sure. Why not.”

  Before long, Tara, Tim, and Nick joined them.

  “You know what would be really fun?” Logan said.

  “What?” Riley asked.

  “A Cubs game. We should try to go sometime.”

  “That sounds great,” Tim said.

  “Why don’t we go tomorrow? The studio is closed,” Garrett suggested. “I bet I could get us into a box.”

  “Seriously? I’d love to,” Tara cooed, still under the Garrett spell.

  “What do you think, Riley? Up for a baseball game?” Garrett asked.

  “Sure. Why not.” She scraped the remains of melted ice cream off her paper plate and into her mouth. “I better start setting up before Amnesia gets here.”

  “I’ll look into tickets right away and let you know what I find out,” Garrett said.

  “I sure hope you can get them.” Logan smiled at Garrett in a conspiring way, causing Riley to wonder if something else was at play.

  18

  Riley’s jaw dropped as Garrett pulled up in front of her apartment building the next day in a sporty silver convertible.

  “Hop in.�
� Dark sunglasses hid his eyes and any judgments he might be making over the shoddy appearance of her building.

  “I see you’re trying to keep a low profile.” She opened the door and slid into the leather seat.

  Garrett grinned. “I wanted to take you to the game in style. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “I can’t believe you’re even driving in downtown Chicago traffic. No local person even does that.” She glanced at the empty backseat. “Where are the others?”

  “On their way to the game, I assume. Why?”

  “I figured you were picking them up, too.”

  “Nope. Just you.” He relaxed his arm over the back of her seat, and for a moment she thought it might drop to her shoulder. She chided herself for thinking that way.

  He pulled out and hit the first red light. Cars, delivery trucks, and taxis were backed up in every direction.

  “The heavy traffic is exactly why no sane person drives here.” She bit back her smile, but still reveled in the fact she was sitting in a sports car with none other than Garrett Jamieson. Thank God her mom couldn’t see her. She would flip out with jealousy.

  Riley raised her face to the balmy sun of a gorgeous day. A light breeze wafted through the air. Garrett inched his way through downtown traffic to Wrigley Field.

  They talked about the Cubs, her latest incident with Nuggett, the dog who loved to roll in anything smelly, and speculation at work that Beyoncé would record a gospel album.

  When at last they approached the large red iconic sign that read WRIGLEY FIELD HOME OF THE CHICAGO CUBS, Garrett swung the car in front of the stadium and put it into Park.

  “Ready?” he said, an eagerness to his voice.

  “Yeah, but you can’t park here. Don’t you see the no-parking signs?”

  A man wearing a chauffeur’s uniform stepped up to the car.

  “We’re not parking.” Garrett winked at her and stepped out of the car. He tossed the keys to the man, came around, and opened Riley’s door before she could digest what was happening.