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you’re a great dancer. Now let’s go mingle and get some food. Best thing to do is act like it was no big deal. Let’s ignore him for a while.”
    Maddie nodded with a tight smile. “Okay. I’m so glad you’re here, Sasha. I truly think I would ruin my life without you.”
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
    A fter cocktails, there was a four-course dinner. A bowl of either French onion or cream of artichoke soup made up the first course, followed by a finely chopped salad with creamy parmesan dressing. Maddie had agonized over the main course, finally settling on a choice of roast beef or salmon, steamed veggies, asparagus with mustard cream sauce, twice-baked potatoes loaded with anything they could want on a potato and huge yeast rolls. Dessert consisted of vanilla flan with amber-colored caramel sauce or creamy chocolate mousse, all of which Maddie had gotten to sample before choosing a caterer. That had been a great two weeks, sampling food and being acquiesced to as the Racers representative.
    Now she hung back, overseeing the guests, a few she recognized, many she did not, but knew them mostly to be distinguished community leaders. The mayor and his lovely wife sat at one of the round tables in the center toward the front of the room with another politician, a university president, a doctor who was a close friend of the mayor’s family and a local celebrity, the current Miss USA. She was gorgeous in a sequined gown, Miss USA sash and tiara, which Maddie presumed was the costume of a beauty queen.
    “Must be nice to look like that all the time,” Sasha had whispered to Maddie when they’d first seen her.
    Their table looked happy—plenty of food and a handsome waiter at their beck and call. Her gaze roving, she spotted a gentleman growing loud and animated. Gliding near the table she casually studied him, waved over the waiter for their table and whispered, “Water down Dr. Sinclair’s next vodka tonic a bit, yes?
    The waiter nodded, understanding and a slight smile of respect lighting his eyes.
    Maddie turned to circle the room one last time before sitting down to her own dinner and nearly walked into a wall of muscle.
    “Oh,” she exclaimed, stepping on his foot with her silver sandal. “Excuse me.”
    Low male laughter. “That wasn’t how I envisioned getting you back into my arms, but I suppose it will do.”
    Maddie’s head jerked up to look into the eyes of someone familiar, though at first she couldn’t quite place him. The lighting was low, candles everywhere, reflecting the colors Maddie had chosen of gold, yellows and reds, making it difficult to see the man’s face, standing in the shadows as he was.
    Suddenly it clicked. “Greg? Greg Foreman?” She took a step back.
    “Maddie. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. What are you doing here?”
    “I…I work for the Racers.” Incredibly, he looked better than he had in college.
    “Really? Wow. What do you do?”
    “I am a coordinator for the Racers Foundation. How are you? I saw all the names on the guest list but don’t remember seeing your name.”
    “Really? Well, I was invited.” He was sounding a little heated.
    “Of course, you were. It’s a wonderful party, is it not?” Her gaze swept the elegant room.
    “Maddie…you’ve changed so much, I hardly recognized you. You look really… spectacular.”
    Maddie wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. She smiled, knowingly, remembering his smooth talk. She had changed a lot since their brief stint of dating in college and wasn’t quite so naïve. “Thank you. What are you up to these days?”
    “I’m an orthodontist. I have a practice in Carmel. It’s very…” He pretended humility with a shrug. “…Successful.”
    Maddie laughed, unable to help it. “Well, your teeth look wonderful. How about personally? Are you married?”
    Greg ground his teeth. “I should be.”
     “What do you mean?”
    “Divorced.” He sighed heavily. “I found her…in bed with another