Funny enough, the idea of seeing my parents isn’t making this easier. My head throbs. At least there’s no media tonight. Apart from the first two after-parties with my friends, every other one has involved VIPs and meet and greets, and media galore, which has meant I’ve stayed in my dress and kept performing all night long.
At least now, I can perform in a plain black T-shirt, jeans, and …
Where did those slippers come from?
A pair of leather slipper boots sits on the floor next to my boots. They’re cute, too. Not high fashion, but cozy, with thick memory foam that feels like stepping on a cloud and a fuzzy lining that instantly makes my feet warmer.
Did one of the Janes send these? Or one of my sisters? Whoever got these for meknowsme. And maybe it’s that reassurance—that someone knows me and cares for me so well—that gives me the push I need to leave the dressing room for the green room.
“There she is!” my momma calls out, throwing her arms in the air and rushing to me. She wraps me in a warm hug, and I sink into it as my dad and sisters soon follow suit.
“You were electric!” Momma says.
“Radiant,” Dad echoes. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“Who could?” another voice says, and I whirl around to see Connor standing there, a flirty smile on his lips, his arms open for a hug.
My stomach flips as he pulls me into his arms and whispers in my ear. “I knew you were talented, but you blew me away.”
I step back when he releases me and smile when he takes my hands in his, holding them between us and stroking the backs of my hands with his thumbs. His hands aren’t much warmer than mine, but his touch is nice, and I’m a sucker for guitar calluses, which he has in abundance.
“Thank you! And thank you for coming! I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“I’m not for long, sadly. I gotta get back on the bus in a few minutes, but I just had to firm up our plans. And meet your parents, of course.” He looks at my mom, overlooking my dad completely. “I’ve been a huge fan for years.”
They smile graciously.
“Thank you, but Lucy is a better songwriter and performer than either of us ever were,” Momma says with a hint of firmness in her voice that says tonight isn’t about her.
And the fact that she has to use that tone at all is more disheartening than I care to admit.
Will I ever stop being a footnote attached to Winona Williams?
“She’s something, all right,” Connor agrees, his eyes roving over my face appreciatively. “I’ll have my assistant reach out to yours to figure out when we both have a break. Even if we have to fly to see each other, I want this to happen. I don’t want our next date to be on stage.”
“Okay,” I say with a simple smile. “Till then.”
He leans in and kisses my cheek, his skin smooth against mine.
“Till then,” he says.
His look, his touch, his words—they’re all so flattering. The way my sisters eye us as he hugs me goodbye would make anyone blush.
After he’s gone, I look at the red roses he left on the table. They’re in a huge vase and dwarf my yellow daffodils. And honestly, they’re gorgeous. He certainly spared no expense.
“What are you thinking about?” June asks me.
“It was nice of him to come …”
“But?”
“He doesn’t know me,” I say over the hum of conversation. “Yet,” I add with a smile.
“I thought you didn’t want any distractions,” she says, bumping my shoulder with hers.
“I don’t.” I look at my parents, who are smiling with their arms around each other’s waists, talking excitedly to Manny. “But I don’t want to die alone, either. A long-distance relationship with a fellow musician feels like a decent compromise.”
“Sure,” June says. “If you like him.”
