Page 98 of Never In My Wildest Dreams

And now this? Talk about throwing a wrench into his plans.

Closing the door behind him, he looked at his duffel bag and his laptop and knew he couldn’t do anything. Not even get ready for bed.

Fuck.There was only one thing he wanted to do. After all these years, he still had the impulse to call his dad. But since he couldn’t do that, what about his mom? He needed to let her know she had a grandchild. But she’d want to fly out immediately and bond with Stevie.

Especially since she thought she’d never have any grandkids. He’d made that clear.

He didn’t know who to call, and yet, there was only one person he trusted. So, he pulled out his phone and hit connect.

“Hey,” George said. “How’s it going?”

For all the plans he’d just finalized, all the business he should’ve been discussing, he blurted, “I’m a father.”

In the moment of silence that followed his announcement, his skin went cold, and he broke out in a sickening sweat. It was so…permanent. It required time. Time he didn’t have.

“I don’t think you’re joking.”

He stalked out onto the balcony, filling his lungs with the crisp mountain air. “No.”

“Wow. Okay. Then, I’m going to need a little more information.” His colleague’s tone was low, dire.

Booker scratched the back of his neck, watching the moon peek out of swiftly moving clouds. “Remember when Marcus threatened to fire me, and I took off for a few days?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I went to Calamity. I have a cabin out here.” He held on to the balcony railing to ground himself. “There was a woman in it.”

“Jesus Christ. Only you.” George chuckled. “Was she hot?”

“This has to be between us, do you understand?” He could confide in his colleague. Maybe the only person in the world he could fully trust. His mom had lost that distinction.

“I do. Go on.”

“It was Lorelei Calloway.”

“Either you’re on an acid trip right now, or you’re the luckiest man in the world. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know who she was. We didn’t exchange personal information. We had nicknames for each other.” He leaned over, looking at the terrace below. “I never thought I’d see her again.”

“Okay, hang on. You’re not fucking with me, right? No one knows about my Lorelei Calloway obsession better than you.”

“I’m serious. And of course, I know. Impossible not to.”

“Then tell me how the hell the world’s biggest pop star wound up in your cabin?”

“It was a mistake.” It wasn’t fair, but he didn’t want to retell the story. He needed to talk, so he gave the short version. “Her friend rented her a cabin, and she wound up in the wrong one. I’m rarely out there, so I didn’t notice.”

“Until you did.”

“Until I showed up that Christmas.”

“I have so many questions but go on.”

“We had a good time. I was even starting to think maybe we could stay in touch, see if it might go somewhere?—”

“Booker,” George nearly shouted. “You fell for someone? This is huge.”

It was, but he ignored it. “And then, she got a text message from some guy who wanted her to come home for Christmas, and I thought it was her ex trying to reconcile with her.” He couldn’t believe it was herfather. “The guy hurt her pretty badly?—”

“I remember that. Her boyfriend and her best friend were screwing around behind her back. Imagine that. You’re on a tour bus, and these two are smiling at you, eating burritos with you, all while knowing they’re going to pound town in the bathroom while you’re sleeping.”

George could say it cavalierly because it was a story in the press, but for Booker—it was Lorelei’s experience. It tweaked his heart and made him want to hunt the cheaters down. “Exactly. And at the same time, I realized I couldn’t work for Marcus anymore. I saw the impact of betrayal up close. It wasn’t the right time for either of us to be in a relationship, so I left.”

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