Page 110 of Never In My Wildest Dreams

“I didn’t get an invitation. Not that I’m aware of.” Of course, between Stevie and renovations, she wasn’t exactly on top of her email. Even so, Jilly would’ve reached out. She would’ve made sure Lorelei got back to her.

“Well, that’s weird,” Noa said. “Why wouldn’t she include you?”

Shame flew up hot from her chest and spread across her cheeks. Her earlobes burned. “I retired.”

“Trust me. No one has forgotten Lorelei Calloway.” Noa said it firmly. “She knows you live out here in the woods with your baby girl. She probably assumed you wouldn’t do it.”

“Maybe.”

Noa pulled her into a hug. “You’re sad.”

“No, I’m not.” But she accepted the comfort. “I’m retired for a reason.” To be honest, she was more humiliated than sad. To be forgotten that easily stung. It hadn’t even been three years.

“I’m all ready for you,” Knox called.

“Come on.” She wrapped her arm around Noa’s waist. “Let’s see you in that dreamy dress.” When they got to the dressing room, she asked Knox, “What’s that scent? I’ve never smelled anything like it.”

“Oh, that’s Belle Starr. It’s a perfume my sister-in-law makes. It’s so good, we begged her to make a potpourri and candles. It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“It is. Is it for sale?”

“Absolutely. It’s over there.” Knox pointed to a glass cabinet filled with accessories.

The moment Noa and Knox went into the spacious dressing room, her thoughts went right back to Jilly and embarrassment that the music industry could forget about her so easily.

And wasn’t that what she’d been saying? Unless you kept churning out material, kept touring, kept showing up on social media, you got lost under the endless talent that was hungrier for fame than you were.

After so many years of feeling important, it just sucked to not matter.

As she looked at the pearl necklaces and diamond tennis bracelets, the beautifully packaged bath salts, candles, and potpourris, she felt a tide of confidence coming in.

Because she wanted anonymity. She’d chosen it. She wanted to go shopping without getting mobbed. She wanted to take Stevie into town for ice cream and not get harassed by eager fans.

She liked her life. And she didn’t need a father for Stevie. She was a great mom, and she had her parents and siblings helping her raise her daughter.

She’d let Slick figure out his own role. She’d stay out of it.

Emotionally, too. She wasn’t going to weave some fantasy about a happy family.

She and Slick would not pick up where they left off. There’d be no romance.

It was all about Stevie having a dad.

* * *

Booker entered the house quietly. He was exhausted, hungry, and needed a shower after seven hours on airplanes. It had been a hell of a day.

Even as he climbed the stairs, his phone continued to vibrate in his pocket. As much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn’t. A sports agent was never off the grid.

Ian: Hey, man. Any chance you can help me out? Just found out my bro’s been arrested. I’m on vacation with the fam. Can you handle it?

Booker: Yeah, of course. Details?

The basketball player gave him the precinct and information. It was late in New York, but he called the concierge service he used. Like a pro, the man answered immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?” The guy sounded like a stoner, but he was actually sharp and on the ball. And discreet.

Booker relied on him for just about everything. “I’m going to forward you some information. A client’s brother needs a criminal attorney in Memphis. I know Price is off for maternity leave. You got somebody else?”

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