Diva NashVegas (34 page)

“I commend you, Aubrey,” Sally says. “You've done the Vaughn women proud since none of us have driven the Jeep.”

The Vaughn women? I'm not a Vaughn woman.

I steal a glance at Scott. Men freak when girls they bring home for the first time are included as part of the family.

But Scott is smiling, and he catches me looking at him and scoots a little closer, taking the marshmallow and roasting stick from me. Crouching toward the fire, he rests his elbow on my knee.

I feel safe. Truly safe. Not guarded or controlled like it was with Car. I slip my hand over Scott's and lace my fingers through his.

“Thank you all for a wonderful weekend.” My words are filled with emotion. “I haven't had a family weekend like this in years.”

Scott squeezes my fingers, his gesture speaking a thousand hot, silent words. “You'll have to come back.”

“That would be lovely.”

“Here we go,” he says, pulling the stick from the fire, “one melted marshmallow.”

The browned marshmallow dangles from the stick . . . then plops to the ground. We stare at it, then each other, before bursting into laughter.

“Ah, I didn't need it anyway.” I break off a chunk of the Hershey bar and pass it to Scott. “I like my chocolate straight up.”

“I hate to be the one, but . . .” Patti stands. “We need to get going, kids. School in the morning.”

Sally's husband stretches and agrees. “We need to go too.”

Moaning and groaning, the kids drag their feet toward the house, shoulders slumped. Their parents call instructions after them. “Don't forget to put away the PlayStation. Susie, your backpack is in the playroom.”

Just before Patti's youngest goes through the back door, she spins around and dashes over to me, wrapping me in a tight, little-girl squeeze. “Thank you for my purse, Aunt Aubrey.”

“Lillabeth, hey.” Scott touches her arm with a glance up at me.
Sorry
. “Aubrey is not your aunt.”

“No, i-i-it's okay,” I say, pressing Lillabeth to me. “I don't mind.”

We say good-bye to everyone and return to our bench by the fire. “It's getting colder.” I rub my hands together.

“I think so.” Scott wraps his arm around me. “Better?”

“Much.”

He starts to say something, then stops. After a deep breath, he says, “I'm falling in love with you.” His confession is quiet but confident. He jams the marshmallow stick in the dirt.

My heartbeat quickens. “Scott, I—”

“Don't say it. I know. Car and the others.” He flips the stick into the fire. “I just wanted you to know.”

“Hey, you two want some hot chocolate?” Mom hollers from the back door. “It's getting cold out here.”

“No, Mom.” Scott stands. “It's late and we need to get back. I have to work in the morning.”

“I'll pour you some in a thermos.”

“Whatever,” he mutters with a grin. “She always sends something home with me.” He offers his hand and pulls me to my feet, holding my gaze for a second. A haunting loneliness swirls around me when he lets me go. “Ready?”

“Don't give up on me,” I whisper.

“Not in a million years.”

37

March

Standing offstage, I watch as Scott Vaughn and Beth Rose tape the opening
segment of their new hit show,
Inside NashVegas on CMT.

Their November debut was a smash, and I've become the coanchors' personal counselor on dealing with fame.

“I didn't think it'd be like this,” Scott said one weekend when we drove down to his parents for a weekend getaway.

“You'll get used to it. Believe it or not, the benefits outweigh the hazards.”

“I bet I've gotten a dozen marriage proposals.” He makes a face. “Let me tell you, there are some sick woman out there. You wouldn't believe what they're offering.”

I laugh. “Oh, yeah I would. I get those same sick letters from men.”

Scott's become my best friend. Church on Sunday, dinner, movies, weekends on the Vaughn farm. He even drove me down to Destin for Christmas with Peter. And now, he's about to welcome me on to his and Beth's
hit
show.

Scott: Hi, everyone. I'm Scott Vaughn.

Beth: And I'm Beth Rose. Welcome to
Inside NashVegas on CMT
.

Scott: We have a very special guest in the house tonight—

Beth: We do. Miss Aubrey James is here. [audience applauding]
Scott: She's in the studio, ready to give us an update on her life and perform a cut
from her new album,
At Last.

Beth: So stayed tuned.
Inside NashVegas on CMT
will be back right after
this. [more applause]

The stage manager warns me, “Two minutes, Miss James.”

“Thank you.”

Scott tips his head with a wink, giving me a thumbs-up. I confessed to him last night that taping in front of a small studio audience was ten times more nerve-wracking than performing in stadiums.

The camera light flashes. Scott and Beth are back on. They banter for a second, then Scott introduces me. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Aubrey James.”

I step out to enthusiastic applause, my nerves settling down as I approach the set. I embrace Scott casually, then Beth, and take the empty seat between them.

“We're so glad you're here,” Beth says when the applause fades away. “Me too.” I smile and peer out over the crowd, bringing a blur of people into focus, seeing their smiles, catching the glint in their eyes.

Scott: You've been busy.

AJ: I have, I have. But it's all good.

Beth: You released a new CD,
At Last.
Tell us about it.

AJ: I love this album. It's my coming-of-age project. Robin Rivers and I wrote most of the songs. Two I wrote on my own, making this the first album of my own material. It's both thrilling and frightening.

Scott: This album has been out for three months, but it's not blowing up the charts
like a typical Aubrey James record. Are you concerned?

AJ: Not really. This album isn't getting as much radio play as previous records, but we're confident Aubrey James fans will find their way to this album and love it.

Beth: You parted ways with SongTunes last fall after being with the label eight
years.

AJ: Yes, we just didn't see eye to eye on a few things, and Nashville Noise opened their arms to me. So, I made a change. I loved being with SongTunes and have a deep respect for all the people there, but in the end, their idea of Aubrey James and my idea were completely different.

Scott: Tell us about the CMAs. You were nominated last year, but come November
you didn't win, again. It's still the one award that eludes you.

AJ: [smiling] Must not be my time to win a CMA. I'm very satisfied with my career and the awards I've won. If there's no CMA award in my future, I'm okay with it. Actually, I get more attention and accolades from my fans and peers when I lose. Everyone wants to reassure me.

Scott: Because of the wait, will it make the award more special when you win?

AJ: Absolutely.
If
I win. Being denied year after year forces me to understand my career is not defined by ceremonies and awards.

On the other hand, my career took off way too fast and easy. Not winning a CMA teaches me the beauty of the sacrifice. How much more I'll appreciate the award when it comes. Let me tell you, Susan Lucci loves her Emmy way more than the other actresses whose names I can't even recall. Losing made her more famous than winning. We loved her courage and poise year after year. We cheered for her. Not a bad road to take, if you ask me.”

Scott
: [nodding] Said with true Aubrey James grace.

Beth: Your name's been missing from the tabloids lately
.

AJ: [applauding, gazing at the audience] For once, and I'm loving it.

Beth: [touching Aubrey on the arm] So, there's nothing new going on in the love life
department. No news?

AJ: Nothing new, yet. I've been enjoying this season of my life. First time in eleven years I'm not doing a spring tour. We're thinking of going out some over the summer, but wow, I've just been exhaling and getting some things straight in my life. Returning to some core values like my faith. It's very liberating, and I'm having a great time
being
instead of
doing
.

Beth: Sounds wonderful. I can see the peace in your eyes
.

Scott: [smiling] So, where's Aubrey James ten years from now?

AJ: [thinking] Married to the guy who taught her to drive, expecting baby number three.

Scott
: (
Cough . . . sputter . . . choke
)
[gulping water]

Beth: Scott, are you all right? [grinning at the audience, patting him on the back]
So, Aubrey, were you holding out before? Is there a special someone in your
life? Who is this man who taught you to drive?

AJ: [smiling, shaking her head] No holding out on you Beth. I'm not sure the guy knows. I just discovered it myself.

The producer signals ten seconds to a break.

Scott: Aubrey, it's always good to have you on
Inside NashVegas on CMT
.
When we come back from commercial, you're going to sing for us, right?

AJ: Absolutely. I'm here with my band, and we're going to perform my first single from the new album, but first—[holding up her finger, looking around] Do we have time? I've got to show you all something I'm very proud of, more than the album. [reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, she pulls out a small card] I'm thirty years old and for the first time in my life, I have a driver's license. [flashing license at the camera] Can you see it?

Beth: [applauding with the audience] Congratulations. Good for you.

Scott: [stepping down to kiss her cheek] Very proud of you.

AJ: [staring at her license] I
love
to drive. What have I been doing all these years? The responsibility of driving is so freeing. I need to thank my friend who taught me to drive because he renewed my faith in chivalry and true love. Well, [looking at Beth] he's the love of my life. [slipping her license back into her pocket]

Scott: [clearing his throat] We'll be right back with Aubrey James.

A fire crackles in the family room fireplace as I pace around, untouched
by its warmth. George and Ringo watch me, lifting their doggy eyebrows as if to ask, “What's wrong?”

He hasn't called. Confessing my love for him on national TV might have been a little too Julia Roberts in
Notting Hill
, but I had to do it.

The moment I walked onto the set, my feelings for him surfaced and it hit me: “I'm in love with my best friend, Scott Vaughn.”

Five months have passed since his Vaughn Fest confession of love. Five months of friendship, laughter, Bible study, late-night heart-to-hearts, and a volcano of smoldering passion. The entire time I kept him at arm's length, waiting for our affection and longing to fade. But it's only increased.

Glancing at the time, I wonder again why he hasn't called. Did I freak him out with my cloaked on-air confession? I run the heel of my hand over my forehead.
Please call.

When the doorbell rings, George and Ringo jump up, baying and barking, their nails clicking against the marble as they run to the door. The foyer is a lovely, rich burnt-orange glaze now, and the decorator Piper convinced me to hire finished the upstairs last month. The house is beautiful. And very much a reflection of me.

I check the security camera to see who's at the door. My heart nearly stops.

“Are you going to leave me out here all night?”

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I fix my smile and jerk open the door. “Hey.”

Scott is leaning against the wall, handsome in his jeans and tweed jacket. “So,” he starts, coming in and closing the door behind him. “I was at work today, doing the show with Beth, as usual, and we had this really cool, drop-dead-gorgeous guest on.” George and Ringo sniff his feet, panting, eyeing him, waiting for a pet.

“Really? Anyone I know?”

He slips his arms around my waist and kisses my forehead. “Yeah, she's a country artist. Decent singer, pretty good entertainer.”

“A B-Lister.” I kiss his neck softly. My thoughts are mushy and soft. “I-I don't bother with them. Nothing but trouble.”

“Hum, too bad, because”—Scott kisses my cheek, then my neck— ”she told me she loves me. So, I'm going to have to go with her to the ends of the earth.”

“Wow, really? I guess this is good-bye, then?”

He grips me a little tighter. “Not in a million years.” His lips touch mine, soft at first, then with released passion.

My heart beats like a flitting bird and my legs go weak and wobbly. “I love you, Scott. With all my heart.”

“So I heard,” he says, his breathing deep as he buries his face in my hair. “I love you too. Very much.” He lifts his head, cupping my face in his hands. “I'm never leaving you. You're stuck with me for life now.”

“A life sentence.” I tip my head back with a laugh.

Scott jumps back suddenly and thrusts his fist to his mouth, “Scott Vaughn here for
Inside NashVegas
. We have breaking news.”

His deep, fake TV anchorman voice makes me laugh. I bat my hands at him. “Stop, you're creeping me out.”

“Ladies and gentleman, we've just learned country sensation Aubrey James is in love.” Every other word is enunciated.

“Miss James, what do you have to say for yourself?” He juts the fake mike to my lips.

“That my boyfriend is a loon and I should change my mind.”

He lowers his arm and the light in his eye darkens. “Marry me.”