Jean-Claude turned to Leslie, “What about your staff? Are you going to let her ruin everything for them, too?”

“Out!” Nola shouted.

His French curse was a string of undecipherable “f”s just before he slammed the door.

Nola's breathing came in short gasps.

“Don’t let him upset you. It will show in the cameras,” Leslie said.

“The cameras. Yes.” She felt her nostrils flare. “After fifteen years in the music world, you’d think I’d be immune to all the loonies.”

The mock flick of Leslie's wrist was incongruous with his G.I. Joe physique. “That’s the other side of our genius.”

Her heart still pounding, Nola bent her head toward Lulu. How quickly the bliss was punctured. “The trick is to ignore them all and just do what I want to do,” she told Lulu, then halted. This was the first lie she’d told her baby.

“Jean-Claude’s nuts, but you’d better be prepared to get some versions of his reaction with a baby around,” Leslie said. He held up her dress to step into it.

Nola touched her burning forehead. “Don’t remind me that I’m an industry, not a person,” she mumbled. “Everyone has an agenda.”

And Wade, her hero, she now suspected, might top the list.

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3

A tawny light crawled from the bathroom door onto the pillow they shared, and Wade's eyes shone tiger-yellow. Even after his flossing and brushing, Nola detected the faint smell of the rare martini he had fixed himself to celebrate their success.

He stroked her arm. “I live vicariously through you.”

“Live vicariously? You make music happen because you make it possible for the world to hear.” How grateful she had been to be the one taken under his wings. In the semi-darkness, she tried to resurrect that old awe of him, but it was like evoking the exhilaration of youth. She could remember how it felt, yet was unable to wrap herself in that rich texture of the experience.

Against the whining of the bar refrigerator, of an elevator creaking to a stop somewhere, and of the whirring of the air-conditioning, small, sweet squeaks, a cross between sucking and moaning, came from the crib in the far end of the room. Wonder filled Nola like the billowing of a curtain. She stretched her arms on the headboard and rotated her ankles, bringing to mind Lulu's adorable smile and wise, dark eyes. If only the baby were awake, she could again lift her up in the air and listen to that gurgling laughter.

There had been a moment of anxiety at the party. “I saw the look on those officials’ faces when they came to take the baby,” Nola said to Wade. She paused, still uncertain what had made him defuse their request.

“I made them drink instead.” He laughed. “Partying must be against their commie law.”