For The Least Of These (8 page)

I turned towards the truck. The urgency of the situation had left me in shock, but my shock was starting to give way to anger. Through my coated glasses, I could barely make out the truck and the outline of Alicia standing beside it, but I barreled towards them at a heart pounding rate, and I began yelling. “Look at me! Oh,
just look at me. I’m coated in paint, my new dress and – more importantly – my glasses are ruined. This night – no this whole weekend – has been one disaster after another. I should have just gone straight home after the concert. I’d be in my bedroom right now enjoying an old movie or reading a good book. But no, I had to for once be impetuous, and just look at me!” I wanted to cry, but I refused to do so in front of Skylar. It was really him I wanted to ream out, but I hesitated because I didn’t know him that well. I also knew that he hadn’t meant to puncture the paint can. He probably hadn’t even known it was there since the truck wasn’t his.

Just then Skylar jumped out and started talking very nervously. “Fisher is going to kill me. This is his truck. He treats this thing like a baby. He just had a new paint job done on it and it has brand new upholstery. What am I going to do?”

As I walked up to Alicia, she reached out, grabbed hold of my arms, and held me at arm’s length – possibly to prevent me from getting paint on her, but probably to keep me from killing her. “Listen, Brandy. I’ve got it all worked out. I know how to make this right. First of all, you don’t have very much paint on your dress. Most of it is on your face, neck, and shoulders. Good thing you got a low cut dress, right? Anyway, a friend of mine had this same thing happen. Well, maybe not exactly the same thing. I’m almost certain it wasn’t this bad. But he told me that he bought some carb cleaner, and it took the paint off his car, the windshield, and him. There’s a grocery store just down the street. I’m sure we can buy some there.”

“Carb cleaner
– as in carburetor cleaner?”

“
Yeah. It’s supposed to work miracles. According to this guy I know.”

“What guy is that? Does he still have skin in the places he removed the paint from?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know him. And yes, he still has skin.”

“That’s a great idea, Alicia,” Skylar said, calming a little. “We can get two cans and clean up the truck, too.”

I ignored the fact that he was insinuating that I needed a whole can to clean me, and I agreed to go with them to the store. I didn’t like this idea, but I didn’t really know what else to do.

When we parked the truck, Skylar switched off the engine and said, “Okay, girls. Get two cans. Here’s ten dollars for my can.”

Once again, my anger flared. This time I didn’t hold back. “So, you expect us to go in and buy the cleaner – me looking like…like this – and I have to pay for my can, too? Boy, Alicia, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Skylar was obviously too dim-witted to realize that I was angry. He just smiled and said, “Thank you.”

I removed my glasses so I could see a little bit, and Alicia and I went into the store. We found the automotive aisle fairly easily, and very few people seemed to be around to notice my new look. Luckily, they had three cans of carburetor cleaner, and the price for each can was only three-ninety-nine. I quickly decided that I’d destroy the receipt and tell Skylar that one can took the whole ten dollars – that way he could pay for my can, too. He also treated us to some paper towels. Once outside, I didn’t even mention money. Skylar didn’t seem to notice, and he didn’t ask for any change.

We pulled the truck to the far side of the parking lot under some bright lights and then began to furiously clean. I was pleasantly surprised when the paint disappeared from my glasses, and I could see again. I was a little hesitant to use the cleaner on my skin, but Alicia rubbed some on my arm, and it didn’t seem to hurt. It did remove all the paint in that spot, so I decided to use it. Soon I had removed all of the paint from my skin, and it hadn’t taken my skin off either.

Skylar and Alicia had been working frantically on the truck, and I started helping them. Alicia had moved the seat back and was getting the paint off of the metal frame under the seat. Skylar was working on the rest of the interior, so I started on the outside of the truck. When we were finally satisfied with our effort, Skylar was certain it was too late to pick up his brother. However, when he checked the time, we’d only been working for about twenty minutes, and Skylar decided that the band would still be practicing or just finishing up.

I asked Skylar to take Alicia and me back to the Richland. I had no more adventure left in me. I was all used up
– and my clothes and hair were still flecked with red.

“I can’t do that,” Skylar said. “By the time I take you back, the guys would have left. And Dylan would not be happy with me. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to go with me.”

I was too tired to argue, so once again, Alicia got in the backseat and I sat up front. I was almost too tired to pull the truck door shut, but I managed somehow. I must have fallen asleep as soon as the truck started up, and before I knew it, Alicia was tapping me on the shoulder and saying, “Brandy, we’re here. The guys are standing up by the door talking. I made Skylar park away from them in case you didn’t want to meet Rick after all…”

I jumped up as if I’d been shot. Was Rick in sight? I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and glanced around looking for the door Alicia was talking about. As my eyes began to focus, I recognized Rick and several of the band members
– including Dylan. Skylar had approached them, and now they were all laughing about something. Skylar had probably told them about our evening – that would make anyone laugh.

I decided then and there that I wouldn’t meet Rick. Perhaps not at all, but for sure not tonight. I quietly opened the truck door and slid out into the parking lot. I hunched over so I wouldn’t be seen, and I took a fleeting look over the truck’s hood in the direction of the entourage. Damn, they were heading this way. I had to make myself disappear, so I turned back and skulked to the back end of the truck. There were more shadows, so I felt a little safer. In the distance, I saw a dark car parked with no driver. I never even wondered who the car belonged to, I just sprinted towards it. As I rushed past the front of the car, I saw a tag from Hertz, so I knew the car was a rental. Reaching the driver’s side
– which was hidden from the truck’s view – I squatted down and held my breath. The light was better here, so I knew there were no murderers or rapists waiting for me. I prayed that Alicia hadn’t watched closely enough so that she could reveal my hiding place. I didn’t even wonder how I was going to get back to the hotel.

I saw the group reach the truck, and Alicia got out and joined them on the side that was opposite from me. As I watched from my hiding spot, my shoulders began to feel hot and, after a few minutes, I felt like my skin was burning.

All at once, I realized that someone had walked up behind me. I slowly pivoted around without getting up; my eyes were on the ground. The boots on his feet were quite nice. Although I’m no boot expert, the light was good enough for me to recognize that quality leather had been used to make these shiny black cowboy boots. Black boot-cut jeans stopped at his ankles, preventing me from seeing the intricate stitching on the boots. I moved my eyes deliberately up his long legs, diverting my gaze as I passed his crotch, and focusing on the jeans enough to tell that they were Wranglers and that they were held in place by a black leather embossed belt. His shirt, a fudge colored polo of no discerning brand, was tucked neatly into his jeans and the top two buttons were unbuttoned. When I looked into his face, I recognized him at once. He looked exactly as I had always imagined he would after seeing him hundreds of times on TV and seeing his picture on magazine and album covers even more often than that. He held my gaze with his blue eyes – and they appeared icier than the Arctic Ocean. His full lips opened slightly and even in the diminished light, I could see his perfect white teeth. His skin was tanned with a golden brown tint, and he appeared much younger than his forty years. The color of his hair reminded me of a beautiful black chestnut mare I’d once ridden while on vacation in the Smoky Mountains. He wore it short and it was a little unruly in the front, with little points of hair spiking down across his forehead. I kept remembering the early days when he wore his hair down below his waist and his wardrobe consisted of a T shirt and ripped blue jeans. He had definitely improved with age.

Immediately I remembered that I was still squatting in front of him, so I tried to pick myself up. My legs didn’t want to cooperate, and I stumbled and almost fell on my face. I felt his soft hand on my left elbow as he helped me balance enough to stand. As I stood in front of him, I had to look up to see his face. Instead of feeling a chill from the wintry blue of his large round eyes, I felt instant warmth
– like standing in the heart of Death Valley at noon in the middle of July. Even as the sweat began forming on my forehead, I felt a shiver run the length of my spine.

“Did you lose something?” he asked in a deep, resonant voice.

“Huh?” I asked with amazing style and flare. I’m certain he was impressed.

“Did you lose something? Here, on the ground? What were you looking for?”

“Oh, that…Well, yes, I, uh…” I was positively charming the pants off of him.

“What is it? I’ll help you find it.”

“Oh, no. I mean, that’s okay. I found it already. Just as you walked up.” And I was a great liar.

“What was it?”

Damn, he wasn’t going to let me get out of this easily. “My keys. To my car. I dropped them and...” Actually, I’m a horrible liar. “The truth is I didn’t lose my keys. I was hiding.”

He smiled. His smile was gorgeous. “Okay, who were you hiding from?”

I tried another lie. This one turned out better because it had a grain of truth in it. “A friend of mine. She’s over there in that truck.” I pointed in the direction of Skylar’s – or should I say Fisher’s – truck.

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing hide and seek?” he asked.

I let out a nervous laugh. “It was just a joke. We came with Skylar Sims to pick up his brother, and I was just trying to have some fun with Alicia while we waited.”

“So you’re a friend of Skylar’s.” I could hear the change in his voice. It was clear that he was no fan of Skylar’s.

“Not exactly. He invited Alicia to a party, and I went along as the chaperone. And now I’m glad I did.”

“Why is that?”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“I guess you haven’t met me yet. Since I haven’t told you my name, and I don’t know yours.” He sounded like he thought I was flirting with him.

“Oh, yes, sorry. I’m Brandy Moretti,” I knew who he was, of course, but I didn’t let on. Only a fledgling Rick Hartwood devotee wouldn’t know Adam Considine, the songwriter who composed all of Rick Hartwood’s songs. The weekend was finally starting to pay off. I’d almost forgotten all the bad things that had happened. I felt certain that I’d be meeting Rick in a few short moments.

“Hello, Brandy. I’m Adam. Adam Considine. Did you know that you have red paint in your hair?”

I had momentarily forgotten the red paint, and I almost loathed him for bringing it up.

“I had a little accident with a paint can,” I said crossly.

“I’m glad to hear it was an accident. I’d hate to think that you normally do this to yourself before a party. Besides, red and pink just do not go together.” A smile played around his lips, and I felt myself softening towards him again. “It sounds like a story I’d like to hear some time.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you someday,” I said, as I began smiling, too.

“Tell me this,” he began again. He brought his hand up and touched my dress strap just above my breast. The strap was small enough for me to feel his hand on my skin, and I was reminded that it was on fire from somewhere inside of me. “…did you go to the beach earlier today?”

I looked down and noticed that the front of my arm was red, and it wasn’t the red from the paint can. It looked more like a sunburn.

Before I could answer Adam or comment, Alicia bounced up beside me. “I thought you wanted to meet Rick Hartwood. Why are you over here talking to a stranger?”

“I’m not a stranger,” Adam said. “I’m Adam Considine.”

“Oh,” Alicia said, unimpressed. She didn’t know Adam Considine from…well, from Adam.

Adam turned back to me, “So, you came here to meet Rick? A fan I assume?”

Before I could answer, Alicia jumped in, “Of course she’s a fan. She’s Rick’s number one fan. And, Brandy, in case you are interested, Rick is over by the truck. If you still want to meet him, you’d best come now. He won’t be performing all night.”

I was unimpressed with Alicia’s attempt at humor, but I was very excited by the prospect of finally meeting Rick. I even forgot about the burning and the redness. I was about to speak when Adam said, “I guess we’d better go on over there. I wouldn’t want you to miss meeting someone of Rick’s prominence.”

Without delay, we walked back to the truck, and Alicia began introductions as though she had known these people all her life. “Rick, here’s someone you should meet,” she said. “This is Brandy Moretti – only your number one fan. And this is her friend Adam…Adam something-or-other.”

“Adam Considine,” Rick said with a laugh. “Yes, I’m acquainted with him. And Brandy…” He said my name and I dissolved into a puddle at his feet
– or at least I felt like I did. He took hold of my hand and looked deeply into my eyes. I was entranced. Rick was even more handsome in person than in print and on television. His twinkling green eyes – not as intense as Adam’s blue ones but beautiful just the same – crinkled around the edges when he smiled. His sandy hair – like a wheat field wafting in the breeze – was tousled in every direction. A thin growth of beard stubble along the curve of his jaw and on his chin gave him a certain rugged-sexiness that was enhanced by his choice of attire: a white twill shirt – unbuttoned enough for a glimpse of the curly hair growth on his chest – and tight khaki chinos. He continued, “…It is a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”