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against the small of her back, snuggling her closer to him. “She’s promised to take some pictures of my car.”
    “You and that car.” Micki shook her head. “I swear.” She looked at Sara and raised her eyebrows. “Men. What are you gonna do?”
    Sara shrugged. “Can’t live with ’em. Can’t live without ’em.”
    “Lord, don’t I know it.” Micki laughed and slapped Justin against his chest.
    Clay peered over his shoulder, then back at Micki. “Are we at your table?”
    She nodded. “Sara’s sitting beside me.”
    He grabbed Sara’s hand. “Do I at least get to sit on her other side?”
    Micki smacked Clay playfully and nudged him into the ballroom, while she and Justin remained at the door to greet the rest of the party-goers.
    S ara touched up her lipstick before leaving the restroom and returning to the table where she’d found herself sitting with Fireside’s elite. It seemed like the entire town was there, and she was extremely proud to be Clay’s date. Then she found out she was at a fundraiser. Micki was running for state legislature, which Clay had explained was a little like Parliament.
    She left the restroom and walked down the short corridor that opened up into the ballroom.
    She barely had time to sit back down at the table when someone walked up and said something about pictures. Sara’s heart thudded against her chest. Would these photographs show up in the paper? Any picture of her that got published in any newspaper could find its way to the AP wire, especially a photograph of her in a gown she wore to the Grammy’s three years ago.
    For the first time tonight Sara realized that wearing this dress had been a mistake.
    Micki stood and waved at Clay and Sara. “Clay, you and Sara come join us.”
    Clay folded his arms over his chest. “You go ahead.” He shook his head. “This is about you, Sis. Not us.”
    Micki looked at Sara. “I’d be honored if you’d join me in the pictures.”
    “Clay’s right,” Sara said. “This is about you. You go ahead.”
    Micki looked exceptionally disappointed as she backed away from the table and headed out, but Sara couldn’t worry about that. She had to keep a low profile. Especially in this dress.
    “Thank you,” Sara whispered to Clay as Micki and her entourage moved away from the table.
    “Well, I know how important it is for you to fly under the radar.” It was definitely a statement, but something in his tone suggested it was open-ended.
    C lay had given Sara a clear opening to tell him more about this past that she was trying so hard to conceal, yet when she didn’t say anything, but instead started fidgeting, Clay added, “You want to dance?”
    She nodded and smiled eagerly. Clay led her to the dance floor, thinking about what Micki had told him while Sara was in the restroom.
    He’d scoffed at Micki when she’d told him that Sara was Sara Bronson, ex-wife of the rock star Kirk Bronson. But Micki seemed so certain. She said she’d thought there was something familiar about Sara when he had introduced them at Ruby’s Diner the other morning, but after seeing her in this evening gown tonight, Micki was one-hundred percent sure where she knew her from.
    If there was one thing Clay could give Micki credit for, that was keeping up with fashion. Micki didn’t care a bit about who won what awards, but she never missed a red carpet show. She always watched to see what everyone was wearing, even though she’d turn the program off once the cameras went inside the venue.
    Micki had been adamant that she’d seen Sara in the same dress she was wearing this evening a few years ago at the Grammy’s—which she’d attended with her then-husband, Kirk Bronson.
    As Clay slow-danced Sara around the dance floor, he held her tight, wanting to remember every second of the time he’d spent with her. He’d heard people talk about love at first sight. He’d never thought it possible, but here he was with this newfound thought of not