Page 12 of Caught in a Storm
“Margot?” says Rebecca. “We good?”
Margot has just noticed the pretzel stand across the street. “These girls,” she says. “What’d you say their band’s called?”
“I’m blanking,” says Rebecca. “I can look if you want. Why?”
Thirty feet away, a guy with an impressive beard stands behind the cash register at a pretzel stand. He’s watching a soccer game. Affixed to the small building’s green roof, a neon sign reads Hot Twist.
Rebecca takes off her sunglasses. “Hmm. That’s a weird way to pick a band name.”
Chapter 6
“Oh, hi, Billy. Hey, Caleb.”
Grady Edwards, the co-owner of Charm City Rocks, holds a stack of used records. He’s wearing a Beastie Boys sweatshirt and smiling. “Wanna take a look at some new arrivals before I stack ’em?”
“Hi, G,” says Billy. “Now’s not a great time.”
“Okay. I’m actually glad you’re here,” says Grady. “We should really talk about that apartment thing. Because we—”
“Maybe not now, okay?” Billy scans the store. “Fair warning: I think something insane is about to happen.”
The door swings open just then. Even-keeled by nature, Grady stays true to type by touching his chin thoughtfully and saying, “You know what, you guys? I think that’s Margot Hammer.”
Billy holds his breath as Margot Hammer walks right by him. She’s followed by a cameraman and a young woman with a ponytail, wearing Chuck Taylor sneakers.
“Yeah,” says Grady. “It definitely is.”
“Dad,” Caleb whispers. “Holy shit.”
Billy knew she was going to be here. His idiot son just frantically told him so two blocks away. Still, it’s difficult to process. “Cay, don’t swear.”
“Yeah, this kinda feels like a holy-shit moment, though, right?” says Caleb, which is tough to dispute. “You should go talk to her.”
“Me?” says Billy. “This is your fault. You’re gonna talk to her. And you’re gonna apologize. Profusely.”
Grady stands listening, understandably confused. He sets his stack of records on a shelf and walks over to Margot Hammer. “Hello there. This is a quite a thrill. Would you like to sign our Wall of Fame?”
Margot Hammer is rubbing her hands together, and Billy is surprised to see that she looks nervous. The young woman beside her steps up. “Hi, I’m Rebecca Yang with Stage Dive Records. You work here, right? In the store?”
“My wife and I own it,” Grady says.
“We’re looking for a band. Four girls. Hot Twist. We’re meeting them here.”
Grady looks out the window toward Gustavo’s pretzel stand. “Maybe you could sign between David Simon and Laura Lippman. It’s a good spot. She’s a writer, and he created the show The Wire on HBO.”
Billy tries not to stare at her. He’s not doing a good job of it, though. Rebecca looks at her phone. “We’re right on time. Mazzy’s dad said they’d be ready. I’ll text him.”
Caleb was a flurry of words a moment ago as they hustled over from the Champagne Supernova. Now, though, as Rebecca thumb-taps at her phone, his son has fallen into stiff silence. When the phone in Caleb’s pocket makes a noise like a cartoon robot, he whispers, “Shit.”
“Um,” says Rebecca.
Everyone assembled at Charm City Rocks is now looking at Caleb. Consequently, Caleb looks like he might throw up. Or run away. Or throw up while running away. He needs Billy’s help.
“Margot,” says Billy. “Or…Miss Hammer? Hi. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“And you are?” It’s Rebecca. She’s smaller than all of them but suddenly very much in charge.
“I’m Billy. This is my son, Caleb.”
