“You should see his brother,” Jamie stated matter-of-factly.
Ruth glanced up from her phone. “He’s got a brother? Is he single?”
“I think so.” Jamie nodded as much as the curling iron would permit. “I mean, that’s the impression I got.”
“Introduce me?” Ruth asked, wrapping her gum in foil before tossing it into the trash can. She hadn’t dated anyone since her high school boyfriend had dumped her during his first year of college.
Jamie glanced at her assistant. “His handshake was weak.”
“I don’t care,” Ruth said breezily. “I want someone gentle and kind.”
“Yawn.” Jamie covered her mouth with one hand.
“What’s his name?” her assistant asked.
“I’m terrible with names,” she said, touching her forehead as she tried to remember. “Ryan? No, that’s not it . . . Nolan.” She snapped her fingers. “He’s a vet. As in a veterinarian, not a military person.”
“I love animals!” Ruth exclaimed. “What’s he like?”
“Nice. Oh, and he doesn’t have much of an accent. Clayton told me he went to school out of state. Somewhere up north—”
“Back to Clayton,” Candy said, teasing her hair to the heavens. “Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”
“Beats me.” Jamie crossed her legs, one boot dangling, annoyed by the line of questioning. “Besides, he’s really annoying.”
“I don’t think he’s had a girlfriend since Tammy.” Ruth was always in the know, thanks to her tabloid habit. She bought them at grocery storecheckouts and made Jamie listen to the latest gossip, whether she wanted to or not.
“Tammy.” Candy jutted out her curvy hip, which Jamie would have killed for. “I used to do her makeup. The nicest thing about that woman is her hair.” She raised her free hand. “Bible.”
Ruth unwrapped another stick of gum. “I’ve heard that too. Some people from back home got to know her when she lived in Oklahoma with her first husband. Apparently she’s pretty hard to deal with.”
“What do you mean?” Jamie didn’t care about Clayton’s ex-wife, but she needed some ammunition in case he made fun of her. “Didn’t they used to call her America’s country sweetheart?”
“Sourpuss is more like it.” Candy shook a bottle of hairspray—maximum hold—and pressed the nozzle.
“No!” Jamie ducked away from the mist. “I don’t need any more product.”
Candy laughed. “Girl, you’re in Nashville.”
A few minutes later Jamie and Clayton stepped onto the stage. She insisted on using a separate microphone to avoid any potential nostril shots, with him towering over her. They both played guitar—rhythm and lead—and alternated the verses on “I Did a Good Job of Drinking.”
When the song ended the studio audience applauded, and a few women held up signs that readwill you marry meandi love you clayton.
It was enough for Jamie to throw up in her mouth a little.
Shelby and Cybill waved to them, and they crossed the stage.
The hosts styled their bottle-blond hair in large, soft curls, and their makeup was applied in an impasto style.
Clayton gestured for Jamie to sit beside the hosts, so she settled on the couch and turned away from him, as she preferred.
“Happynew year!” Clayton greeted the hosts, and Jamie cringed.
“Jamie Keaton,” the host closest to her said. “This is your first time on Hello Nashville.”
“Yes, it is.” She wasn’t sure which woman was which. “Thanks for having me.”
The same woman gave her a fake grin then turned to Clayton and batted her glued-on eyelashes at him. “You haven’t been here in how many years . . . four?”
