when I do.”
Who knew the bad boy superstar would turn out to be a romantic. “What if you don’t like what you find?”
“I think that would be impossible. You’re already the nicest person I’ve ever met. And also the wildest.”
This makes me laugh. As if. “Wildest?”
“Yeah. You just don’t know it yet.”
He knows. He can already see that side to me my sisters are always going on about. The one I’ve never indulged or given much time to. It freaks me out a little that it feels like this hidden spark is linked to him. Like Vaughn Tucker somehow owns it. Which is not a good thing.
The waiter arrives with our drinks. He places two tumblers of whiskey on the table, along with some menus, then makes a spectacle out of popping the cork of the champagne and filling our glasses, placing the bottle into the ice bucket. He bows and disappears into the crowd.
Vaughn clinks his whiskey glass against mine. “To changing the future.”
He tips his back.
I take a sip. It burns lightly as it goes down but I like the taste. It reminds me of autumn days in my Daddy’s shed, when he’d be tinkering under the hood of his pick-up truck with the radio playing and a bottle of whiskey on the workbench.
We order our food and we listen to the band as Vaughn tells me about some of the people he knows in this room. Jake Bodine, who’s singing, is an old friend from their early days. The quarterback went to the same high school; he was Kade’s year. The supermodel briefly dated his cousin.
A non-stop parade of women wave to Vaughn, blowing him kisses, trying to get his attention. They don’t come over. His body language isn’t inviting them. I’m not entirely sure why he would be, but he’s fully focused on me.
The dancefloor is crowded with people. I drink more of the whiskey and sip the champagne slowly. The night takes on a starry edge.
Vaughn is relaxed and attentive and funny. We’re served courses of small plates of the most exotic food I’ve ever eaten. Bites of lobster roll with caviar and tarragon. Scallops served in a butter and wine sauce. Seafood ravioli with truffle sauce. Sliced filet mignon with horseradish marinade. It’s all new to me, and delicious.
The band comes back on after taking an intermission and Jake Bodine drawls into the microphone. “Vaughn Tucker, we want you to come up here and sing that new song of yours everyone’s playing non-stop. The one that’s in my way of getting to number one. Along with those other two. Come on, man. Come on up here.”
“Shit,” Vaughn says. “Do you mind me leaving you for a few minutes, honey?” For all his reputation as a rebel and a playboy, I’m learning that, at heart, Vaughn is a good person. He’s a rough-edged, restless soul, but he’s kind. I haven’t asked him again about his parents, after he told me about the tattoo of his mother’s name. Whoever she is—or was, by the sound of the way he reacted—she must have raised her boys right. Somewhere along the line—despite the mayhem and superstardom of their lifestyle, the money on tap and the women on call—it stuck. Or at least some of it did.
It doesn’t mean he won’t break your heart, though. Only that he might feel a millisecond of remorse about it somewhere down the line. “Go ahead. I want to hear you sing.”
He stands up and the whole restaurant erupts in howls and applause. They cheer as he walks up onto the stage.
They love him. And who could blame them.
On stage, he’s totally in his element. You can’t help but be captivated. He takes his time, all cool masculinity and sure-footed talent. Under the spotlight, his hair is gold-tipped. The loose neck of his shirt shows off his rosewood skin and the inked designs along his broad shoulders and muscled arms. He couldn’t be any more beautiful.
“This is our newest single,” he says. “It’s called Lonesome Blues.”
The crowd cheers and claps.
The band strums the acoustic opening and Vaughn starts to sing.
His voice is quite literally to die for. On the radio it sounds soulful and deep. Live, he takes to a whole different level. You can feel the resonating emotion in his edgy, husked voice.
On those days when I think the world has come right and the sun will shine bright, you’re still gone. On those days when I know the rain’s gonna clear