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“That’s actually one of my favorites.” It allowed her to use her four-octave range. With her tongs, she collected the requested doughnuts and launched into the song.
The heart of a woman is brave and true
Consider yourself lucky if she gives it to you
The heart of a woman is giving and kind
So let me tell you something
You better know your own mind
Love her hard, love her strong
Be the one she can count on
Love her gentle, love her sweet
The middle’s where you’ll meet.
As predicted, she sold out of the chocolate macarons by the time the baseball-capped woman reached the front of the line. Grace was just finishing the last note of the song, singing her heart out, when she found herself looking into the eyes of the star herself.
It was Lorelei Calloway.
Grace just stared, jaw hanging open.
“You got lungs, girl.” The singer grinned, but there was a hard edge in her eyes.
“Uh…thank you?”
“Why are you surprised to see me?” Lorelei asked. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To meet me? Get my attention?”
“I…no.”What is she talking about? Get her attention how?“If I had any inkling you were around, I would never dream of singing your songs.” She was so confused. “What on earth are you doing in Calamity, Wyoming?”
Lorelei seemed skeptical. “I’m the artist-in-residence this summer.”
“Are you serious?” She set down her tongs to smooth her hair.I must look a mess. “I can’t believe this.” Why had no one told her?
She cocked her head. “So, you didn’t come out here hoping I’d see you and make you famous?”
“What? No. I’m a baker. I bake. My family owns Renzo’s on Duff Island. I make croissants and…” She reached for the nearest basket. “Here. Have a cannoli.” But the singer didn’t take one. “I swear, even if you begged me, I wouldn’t get on stage with you. I’d be mortified.”
“You just said you were in a tribute band.”
“Yeah, to make money. When I was younger, I wanted my own bakery, but now, I’m going to use it to buy a house or maybe to start a side pastry business. I don’t want to be asinger. I love what I do.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” Lorelei gestured to the baskets. “Okay. But just so you know, I can’t make anyone famous. It doesn’t work like that.”
“I really, truly don’t want fame. I just want to bake.” Grace wanted the earth to crack open and swallow her whole. In a million years, she wouldn’t have imagined she’d find the biggest singer/songwriter in the world in Calamity. “Um, I don’t have any more chocolate macarons, but do you want any of the other flavors instead? Or how about a Paris Brest?”
“A what?”
“It’s an almond pâte à choux with vanilla cream inside.”
“Mm, that sounds divine. But I don’t eat sugar. I just wanted to bring some cookies to my crew. Man, your pastries are pretty.” She waved a hand at the baskets, wiggling her fingers. “All those itty-bitty flowers and the leaves. It’s art.” She glanced behind her. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I just thought you were trying to use me.”
“Absolutely not. I promise I don’t want to do anything but bake.” She bagged up the Paris-Brest and the remaining macarons. “Here. Take this to your crew. And if you eat them when no one’s watching, they have no calories. Trust me. I know.”
Lorelei grinned. “Oh, I like you. All right, I’ll be back for more tomorrow. My drummer’s got the worst sweet tooth.” She lifted the bag. “Thank you.”
