Page 106 of To Believe In You
“You’re not really planning to make him finish out two weeks, are you?”
“Huh?”
“At Key of Hope. He said he has to cut out so he can teach lessons this afternoon.”
Beyond the glass, Matt spoke, gesturing with one hand while the other steadied his bass.
Lina replayed their conversation last Thursday. “He only asked for the weekend off.”
Tim’s chin dropped. “He was supposed to put in his notice.”
“Oh.” If he quit, Key of Hope would become even more of an escape from him, so why the disappointment? She chided herself. Of course this had to happen. He’d leave on tour in January. “I can try and hire someone. Maybe by next week?”
They did have all those applicants Tim had hidden from her when they’d first posted the bass instructor position. But was this how things would be now? Would she get her news about Matt through Tim, like she’d heard about Philip’s resignation?
Actually, even that was wishful thinking. The only reason she’d seen Tim often this summer was because he’d helped launch Key of Hope. With the non-profit running and no longer part of his scheme to promote Matt, she’d only see him at times like this—when she was needed for Awestruck. In January, Tim and Awestruck would leave Lakeshore for the next tour, and she’d go months without seeing any of them in person.
She’d instead get updates through department meetings, press releases, and tabloids. She’d better take advantage of Tim’s insider information while she could. “How did his trip go?”
He sighed heavily, finally rolling back from the soundboard. “He’s not happy how it turned out, but at least he didn’t sign away all his income.”
“The boy is his son?”
“That seems to be the consensus. I still think a paternity test wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, but he’s focused on how he didn’t get to meet the kid. I reached out to N—”
“Earth to Tim.” Gannon’s voice broadcasted through the speakers.
Tim snapped back to attention as Gannon asked him to play back an earlier run of the song.
As Tim streamed the clip into the studio, Lina gave up on learning more about Matt and his trip. He was just another band member now, and his personal life was none of her business. She’d come to do a job, and she needed to complete that and then move on to her other responsibilities. She let herself into the main sound stage.
Gannon acknowledged her with a nod, John by raising a drumstick. Matt’s short-lived smile seemed to ask if she really needed to be there. Yet, none of them voiced any questions about what had brought her.
She took candid photos of them talking. The next time their discussion led them to replay a couple of bars, she snapped more pictures, then showed herself out through the control room, where Tim promised to come find her to escort her to Key of Hope in a few minutes.
As she waited, she crafted the Awestruck post. Not her best work, but when it came to Matt, all she could think about was that he had seemed to be falling apart when he’d ended things with her. Such a short time later, he seemed solid, despite whatever had or hadn’t happened in Texas. He’d said he needed to cut his losses, and perhaps he was better off without her.
She was glad for him. And honestly, a little envious, because since the jewelry theft, she didn’t know how to stop her life’s crazy spiral.
She could wash her hands of responsibility by signing the estate over to Dad. Awestruck and Key of Hope combined would provide a comfortable life. In the personal sphere, she could get by with a few loose friendships, quietly supporting others without allowing them close enough to hurt her or put her in a position to disappoint them. At least, not too badly.
Grandma had essentially done the same.
If only such safety didn’t sound so bleak.
* * *
Matt wantedto get to Key of Hope, but he knew better than to walk in blind. When rehearsal ended, he paused in the car he’d rented to pull up Awestruck on social media.
As soon as Lina had appeared in the studio, he’d longed to stop practice to ask about her jewelry, the progress of the security system, Shane, and her dad, and to share the little that had happened with Nadia and Axel. If she’d given him the slightest invitation, he would’ve.
As far as he’d seen, she’d barely even looked directly at him, except, perhaps, through the lens of her phone’s camera.
Did the pictures capture his expression, revealing he’d been dying to set aside the bass and talk to her?
She’d posted a few images. First up, one of him looking down and smiling. The picture must’ve been snapped the moment after Gannon called one of his suggestions brilliant. The other photos showed them talking and playing. If she’d taken any while Matt had been peering her direction, she’d kept them to herself.
The caption beneath the gallery of images was short.
