by Nic Joseph
Jen and I followed closely on her heels. We navigated the crowds of exhausted fans, and I pushed down the nerves that were coursing through my body. Were we really going to get to meet him? Would he recognize me, and if so, what would he say?
What would I say?
We took a long loop around the stadium, and I wondered if we were going in circles.
I looked up and saw that we were approaching the C wing, and there were a scattering of people standing next to the entrance, directing people back the way we’d come. Vanessa looked back at us and gestured with her head.
“Come on,” she said and grabbed her daughter’s hand.
I followed, my throat dry and hands clammy.
What are we doing?
Vanessa walked up to a tall, skinny security guard who looked like he couldn’t have been more than twenty-two. He smiled as he saw her approach.
“Hey, the pierogi lady,” he said. “Thanks for the recipe. I’m making it for my mom this weekend.”
Vanessa peeked back at me with a smile, then turned to face the guard. “No problem. This is my best friend, Paula, and my daughter, Jen, who I was telling you about.”
“Nice to meet you, ladies,” he said. He looked down at Jen. “Your mom is awesome!”
We all laughed and thanked him before scurrying past him and down the long hall of the C wing.
“Pierogis?” I whispered as we walked along. “That was the super-secret thing you couldn’t tell me about in front of Jen?”
“Figured I’d let your imagination have a little fun with it,” she said with a smirk.
We turned a corner, and then we were walking through a large, open space that was filled on either side with concert equipment, chairs, and other supplies. There were a lot of people there, all moving around with purpose, and I waited for someone to ask who we were or what we were doing there. A tall man with a clipboard walked in our direction, and when he saw us, he smiled. “That way,” he said, pointing around another corner.
Vanessa, Jen, and I looked at each other and then walked quickly in that direction. As we turned, we all groaned.
In front of us, there was a line of at least forty or so fans, standing in groups and pairs, leaning to look at the front of the room. We couldn’t see what was going on at the front, but it was clear we were in the right place.
“Apparently, you weren’t the only one with a recipe to share,” I said.
“At least in my case, it really was just a recipe,” she said, looking disappointed.
“I’m sure it’ll move fast,” Jen said.
I once again had to admire her determination.
We joined the back of the line and waited.
The line did move quickly, and in a couple of minutes, we were halfway up the wall. I stood on my toes and let out a gasp when I saw the scene at the front.
“There!” I said.
Vanessa and Jen craned their necks.
“Oh my God!” Jen said, clutching her heart.
He was standing there, right at the front of the room, taking a photo with a group of girls young enough to be his daughters. One was in tears, and the others beamed like it was their wedding day.
I couldn’t believe it. In another few minutes, I’d be right there beside Lotti, with his phone in my purse.
Would he recognize me?
Did I even want him to?
The line moved forward again, and then again, and suddenly, we were next in line.
I had a brief moment of panic. What if I hadn’t put his phone on silent and it rang? What if he recognized the ringtone? I’d never heard it before. Maybe it was something unique. I swallowed, resisting the urge to take it out and check. I hadn’t looked at it since Vanessa and I had found it in the trunk; chances were the battery had died by now anyway.
Right?
“You okay?” Vanessa asked.
I looked over and nodded.
“Okay, next,” the stern woman standing next to Ryan said.
Vanessa, Jen, and I stepped forward.
And just like that, I was face-to-face with Ryan Hooks.
He looked at us, and I held my breath. But he smiled, the way he had with everyone in the line, and then held up his hand for high fives.
“Hey, ladies,” he said. “Thanks so much for coming to the show. What are your names?”
“Vanessa.”
“Jen.”
I swallowed. I couldn’t very well lie in front of them. “Paula.”
“Well, Vanessa, Jen, and Paula, did you like the show?”
“It was amazing,” Jen said quickly, and she launched forward with her phone. “Could we get a picture?”
“Of course,” he said. “In fact, I’ll take it.” He took the phone from her, and we all crowded around him. He reached out his hand to take the selfie, and I squeezed in close to him. He smelled good, like expensive cologne, and I was surprised he didn’t smell like sweat after all the dancing he’d done for the past hour and a half.
“Thanks again,” Vanessa said, and she and Jen both leaned over to examine the picture.
I was standing right next to him, and there was a line of fans just a few feet away from us, waiting for their chance to come up and get their selfie with him. I could’ve just ended it there, could have leaned in to look at the picture and then walked away, following behind Vanessa and Jen, as I was supposed to.
But as I stood there beside him awkwardly, I was overwhelmed with the feeling that I had to do something, to say something, or accept that I let the opportunity get away from me.
“Really great show,” I said.
He smiled at me. “Thank you so much. You guys are the best,” he said, the words falling out of his mouth quickly, and I knew he’d said the sentence a hundred times already that night.
I bit my lip.
Do it.
Just say it.
“Almost worth battling through the hordes of prepubescent fans.”
He didn’t respond immediately. He blinked, and the perfect smile fell from his face for just a second, and then, for the first time since we had walked up to him, he truly looked at me.
“Sorry?”
I smiled but didn’t repeat myself.
He frowned, examining my face. “Do I know you?”
I shook my head a little and smiled, but now he was really looking at me, eyes locked, and he squinted as if that would help him out. I saw the recognition dawn, and then he spoke quietly.
“The DAC driver?”
I froze, and it wasn’t until then that I realized that I hadn’t really expected him to know who I was.
“It is you, isn’t it?” he asked.
I saw something flitter across his face. Concern? Fear?
It reminded me of the night I’d dropped him off on Oak Street and the way he’d looked back at me to see if I was watching him as he stared up at Emma in the window. For a moment, I was transported, staring at him in the moonlight, Emma’s silhouette looking down on us.
“How about that?” I heard Hooks say, and I was jolted back to the present. He was watching me with a slight, nervous smile. “I didn’t think you recognized me! Were you just messing with me that night?”
“I…uh…”
He stepped closer and looped an arm around my shoulder, lowering his voice.
“Hey, quick question. I’ve been meaning to contact DAC. You didn’t see my phone, did you? I haven’t been able to find it since that night.”
“Oh…uh…well…” I fumbled and trailed off, looking over at Vanessa and Jen, who were still bent over their phones, examining the pictures we’d just taken.
The line of excited fans seemed to be growing, and they all stared at Ryan and me. I wondered what was going through their minds about why he had his arm looped over my shoulders.
; “Uh…”
“Did you see it?”
My tongue was a big hunk of sandpaper, and I wasn’t sure what to say, since I didn’t know exactly what I wanted.
“Yes,” I blurted out.
His eyes widened. “Really?” he asked. “That’s awesome.” He waited a moment, and when I didn’t say anything else, he stepped even closer. “Uh, do you…have it?”
“Um, not with me,” I lied, and I cleared my throat. “I guess I was wondering, is…is there any kind of…reward?”
It was as if I’d just picked up a brick, lifted it into the air, and smashed it into the side of his face.
He froze, his mouth wide open, and all the playfulness that had been in his eyes a moment before disappeared. He looked up to see who was nearby and then lowered his voice again.
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “No, there’s no reward.”
The anger was instant, visceral, and it made me take a step back. He covered it quickly, but I could still see it in his eyes. We stood there for a few moments more.
And then, something changed.
When I first asked the question, it really had just been a question, one that had been brewing in the back of my mind since Vanessa and I stood outside my car and held the phone in our hands.
It stayed there, festering as I walked in the park and shook the hand of his mistress, as I watched him swaying onstage.
But it hadn’t really registered until now as I stood across from him, waiting for him to respond.
I didn’t realize what I was doing until I held his gaze, my breath coming out in short, audible pants, my fists curled up at my side.
I wasn’t asking him.
I was telling him.
I felt it, and I think he felt it too, because I stared at him steadily, and then his eyes narrowed.
“You sure about that?” I asked, feeling more in control of anything than I had in the past twelve months. “The woman you went to meet on Saturday—I’m guessing there are a few pics of her on there that you wouldn’t want anyone to know about.”
His eyes widened, and then he ground his jaw as he stared at me angrily.
“You bitch,” he hissed.
I think he was about to say something else when the woman holding the clipboard suddenly yelled out, “Next!”
I backed up into Vanessa and Jen, and then we were being hurried away.
Ryan stuttered, as if he wanted to stop us, but then he looked out at the crowd of people watching us.
Watching him.
I could still see the fury in his eyes as we were ushered out of the room.
Chapter 9
I settled into the back seat of Vanessa’s car as she pulled into line to leave the parking lot. The cars pointed in every direction, the headlights so bright, it felt like daytime. We inched along, one car at a time, and I was grateful that I was not the one driving. Vanessa was crouched up against the steering wheel, like usual, squinting at the back of the red SUV she was tailing.
“I swear to you, if anyone tries to get in between us, they’re losing a headlight,” she said, braking hard as the red car stopped suddenly.
I drummed my fingers against my leg. I had just done the most insane thing I’d ever done in my life—told someone, to his face, that I was blackmailing him—and now here we were, stuck in the parking lot where I’d committed my crime. I had visions of Hooks running clear across the lot, his security team in tow, and ripping open the door to drag me out.
I took a deep breath.
Certainly, any one of the fans in the parking lot would’ve held on to Ryan Hooks’s phone if they had it. But would they be considering what I was considering—finding a way to force Ryan Hooks to pay me for what I knew?
I heard a giggle from the front seat, and then Jen squealed.
“I already have forty-seven likes on Instagram!” she said.
Vanessa braked hard again, turning to look at her daughter. “Do you even know forty-seven people?”
“Yeah, Mom,” Jen said.
I zoned out and stared out the window. I could still see Ryan’s face as I followed Vanessa and Jen out of the meet-and-greet area.
I’d lucked out with the element of surprise. He’d wanted to say something, to stop me, but there were just too many people around. Too much risk in calling attention to something that he didn’t want anyone else to know about. As I’d floated away in the crowd, he’d watched me, the polished smile that he’d poured on his fans rusting over. The anger that had flashed in his eyes had sent a chill through my body, and I had the strong sense Ryan Hooks wasn’t used to people not following his directions.
“Hello back there,” I heard Vanessa say in a singsong voice, and I looked back toward the front of the car. She was staring at me in the rearview mirror with her eyebrows raised. “You alive?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think we’re all a little spacey after that.”
I thought back to the moment when Hooks and I had stood there, staring at each other, and the calmness I’d felt asking him for the reward.
I didn’t know where the confidence had come from.
But I liked it.
I heard a noise, something loud and unfamiliar, and I frowned when I felt my purse vibrating. Unzipping it, I reached inside, my heart skipping a beat when I saw that it wasn’t my phone that was ringing.
It was Ryan’s.
Vanessa had finally reached the edge of the parking lot, and she turned onto the main road, which was packed, given the concert traffic. As she merged into the left lane to get on the highway, I heard Jen laugh out loud.
“You changed your ringtone to ‘Love River’?” she asked.
I paused as I pulled the phone out of my purse. It took me a moment, but I recognized the melody as one of the songs we’d heard at the concert.
Ryan’s wallpaper was a picture of himself and his wife.
Normal.
His ringtone was one of his own songs.
A step too far.
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “Wanted to get in the right spirit before the show.”
Vanessa was too busy merging into traffic, and she didn’t seem to notice what had just happened. She and Jen had been so caught up looking at their pictures that she probably thought I’d given the phone back, and I wanted to keep it that way. No use getting her involved in my stupid decision. I turned the phone over and clicked the button on the side to shut off the ringer. Then I looked back at the screen.
The person calling was named Ray. I bit my lip, and my heart raced as I watched his name flash a few times before finally ending. A moment later, the phone lit up again, and Ray’s name returned.
He was calling back. I swallowed. It had to be Hooks, calling from a friend’s phone. Someone who was with him in the pavilion or on the tour bus, cursing the crazy fan who’d just quietly blackmailed him in front of a horde of people. I waited again for it to stop ringing and then tossed it into my purse.
“Which was your favorite song?” I heard Jen say, and she pivoted in her chair to look at me.
I blinked and then frowned, trying to rack my brain. “Uh, I don’t know. It’s hard to pick,” I said, my mind racing. “What was yours?”
“Probably ‘Out of Time.’ I’ve heard it so many times, but it was so amazing to hear him sing it live.” She squealed and put her head in her hands. “I just can’t believe we met him in person!”
Vanessa pulled onto the highway, and we were finally on our way home. I let out a long breath. There was no caravan of police cars tracking us down and pulling us over to recover the phone. With the glow of the concert traffic dying down, the darkness descended on the car, and we were all silent for a few miles, lost in our own thoughts.
Vanessa was turning onto my block when I heard another noise from my purse
. I winced and opened it, fumbling around with the items inside. After a few moments of searching, I recognized the noise as my own ringtone and let out a sigh of relief.
It didn’t last long, though. As I pulled it out of my purse, I saw that it was a number I didn’t recognize. A local number.
Could it be Hooks?
Could he have found a way to get my phone number that quickly? I silenced it so as not to disturb Jen, who’d been dozing off in the front seat. Then I stared at the phone number as it flashed over and over.
Please don’t be him.
Please don’t be him.
I answered the phone on the last ring, deepening my voice a little in case I needed to say “wrong number” and hang up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Paula Wileson?”
Please don’t be him.
Please.
“Yes, it is,” I said slowly, and all the probable excuses began to float on the tip of my tongue.
My husband and I really need the money.
If you just pay it, I won’t tell.
This isn’t like me, I promise.
I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t absolutely have to.
“Mrs. Wileson, this is Dr. Jane Christensen at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. I am calling about your husband, Keith. There has been an accident.”
And just like that, it was lights out.
• • •
I didn’t really faint.
The breath was sucked out of my body so quickly that I gasped out loud. My vision blurred, and my stomach immediately cramped up. All these symptoms together made it hard for me to remain upright. I slumped to one side, my face pressed against the window, which was surprisingly cool given the warm air outside. The doctor continued to shell out words, so many bad words, that I wanted to fling the phone away in protest. Words like collapsed and IV and monitoring.
As I listened, I thought of the other telephone in my purse, glaring up at me, and I could almost feel the smugness that emanated from it.
You brought this on yourself!
You deserve it!
The doctor continued to speak for a few moments, and I listened, somewhere between defeat and disbelief. At some point, I forced myself to lean forward and speak to Vanessa, who was silently staring out at the road in front of her.