Riley: Doubts and Dancing
Iwas finishing the morning feeding rounds at the rescue when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I wiped my hands on a towel and checked the screen. Ryan.
"Hey, big brother," I said, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder as I stacked a bag of kibble.
"Hey, yourself. Busy saving the world one rescue mutt at a time?"
"You know it. What’s up?"
"Just checking in. How’s Colton doing? Still breathing?"
I smirked. "Yeah, and surprisingly cooperative. After I, uh... I stopped yelling at him."
Ryan laughed. "You? Stopped yelling? Should I alert the media?"
I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see it. "Don’t make me regret telling you. I don’t know, I just... I figured maybe what he needed wasn’t someone barking orders at him but someone willing to help. Like, actually help."
"Huh. So, you’re saying my best friend responds better to kindness than sarcasm? Shocked."
"Don’t push it."
"Seriously, though, why the change?"
I braced one hand against the feed bin, chewing on the question. All I could see was his face when he said,Pretend it doesn’t hurt?“I guess I got the sense that he didn’t think anyone was really in his corner. And maybe if someone showed up for him in the right way, he’d show up for himself."
There was a pause on the line, long enough for me to think I’d said too much.
Then Ryan cleared his throat. "Well… I’m glad you two are getting along. I’ve got something for both of you. You near Colton?"
"He’s cleaning out the back kennels. I can grab him."
"Perfect. I want to talk to both of you about the Blades & Bow Ties gala. The Icehawks are hosting it this weekend, and guess what? All proceeds are going to Timberline Shelter."
My stomach flipped. "Wait—what? Are you serious?"
"Dead serious. And before you start panicking, and your brain starts to shut off I need to tell you a few things. It will be black tie, and yes, there will be press, so you will have to dress up and be sociable. Now go get Colton, I’ll explain the rest."
I set the phone down, found Colton mid-hose-down in kennel four, and waved him over. He raised an eyebrow but followed, towel slung over one shoulder.
We stood side by side near the office as I put Ryan on speaker.
"Okay," Ryan said, his voice tinny but authoritative. "Here's the deal. It’s the biggest charity event we’ve ever pulled together. The Grand Atlantic Ballroom is at full capacity. Great news for the shelter—bad news if you hate small talk and shiny shoes."
Colton groaned. "Let me guess. I’m not just attending—I’m performing?"
"You, my friend, are staffing the Hockey Roulette table. Riley’s your co-pilot."
"What?" we said in unison.
"It’s perfect," Ryan continued, clearly pleased with himself. "Colton, think of her not as a babysitter but as an extra pair of eyes. The press will be everywhere. Riley will keep them in check."
He paused. "And no one scares reporters like my sister."
I was still processing that when Ryan added, far too casually, "Oh, and Riley—you’ll be accepting the donation check on behalf of Timberline. We’d love for you to say a few words."
I nearly dropped the phone. "I—what? No. Ryan, I don’t do public speaking. You know that."
"You’ve got this," he said before hanging up.
