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“That added up to a hundred and fifty grand?”
“No, the biggest earner was the tribute band I sang in.”
“You sang in aband?” He tried to picture her in torn fishnets and dyed black hair, a smear of red lipstick, but it just didn’t work. She was too…sweet.
She laughed. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I just can’t picture you rocking out.”
“Well, we’re not talking Alice Cooper. There was no face paint involved.”
“What kind of music? Like Pat Benatar kind of shit?”
She shook her head.
“Stevie Nicks?”
Smiling, she waved her hands at him to stop. “Don’t even try. You won’t guess it.”
“So, tell me.”
She tipped her head back and groaned. “Okay, but you can’t make fun of me.”
Oh, this is good. He liked seeing her playful. “I mean, Ican.”
“But you won’t because I’ve had a traumatic day.” Her spirits rallied, and she flashed him a smile so bright it awakened a part of him that had been unused for a very long time.
It was scary and a little thrilling. “You don’t know my family, but that’s not exactly a solid reason for me to go easy on you.”
“Brutal.”
He gave her a chin nod. “Hit me.”
“Fine.” She made a big show of reluctantly giving in. “Lorelei Calloway.”
“Why would I make fun of you for that? Everyone loves her.”
“She sings from the heart, about love and trust and happy ever after, and for some reason, you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d like that kind of music.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on. You’ve got this bad-boy vibe. With your ink and your scruff, and all that…messy hair. You’re more one-percenter than you are Hallmark hero.”
“I’m nobody’s hero, that’s for sure. But I have a daughter, and I want her to find everything Lorelei sings about.”
Her features softened.
“What?” Had he said something sappy?
“That’s just incredibly sweet.”
Dismissing it, he hunched a shoulder.Doesn’t every parent want what’s best for his kid?“But no, I don’t listen to country music, so I’m not a fan.” He thought about it for a moment, remembering his sister dancing around the kitchen to one of the artist’s songs. “Or maybe she’s pop. Either way, not my thing.”
“See, that’s what I love about her. She doesn’t fit into any one box. In the beginning, when she was just starting out, everyone told her to find her lane and stay in it, and she was like, ‘Isn’t the point of art to use our own unique voices? That’s the only thing that differentiates us.’ She even produces her own albums. She hires people to come in and work with her, but everything about her music is authentic, and I love that.”
“So, you made a lot of money singing her songs?”
“Nota lota lot.” She gestured around the jet. “Not by your standards.”
