He was here for her.

He stepped out of his car, straightened his bow tie one more time, and then walked toward the building with newfound hope to correct his errors.

Chapter 15

HIS MOMENT

Clay’s feet carried him into the building. It looked much the same as the last event he’d been to. Crowded with people, the walls lined with artwork, the bar line being the longest thing in sight.

As he entered, a waiter approached him to offer him a glass of champagne on the house.

Clay smiled at the man and shook his head. “No, thank you.”

He’d declined a drink. Champagne, sure. Something he rarely, if ever, drank to begin with. But, hey, it was a start. He really wanted to be sober for this.

On the walls, there were so many pieces of art that he’d never seen before. Either Andrea had been hoarding art more than he knew, or she’d been traveling a ton to procure pieces for this exhibit. She had a collector’s eye for it. That was for sure.

As he scanned the opening line of pieces, he read the tags that said where the painter was from, and they hadn’t been to a number of these places in years. Marseilles, Barcelona, Vienna, Venice, Amsterdam. Had she taken a European tour in the time that we’d been apart?

As he scanned the paintings, he kept one eye open for Andrea. He didn’t want to run into her without some forewarning on his part. He wasn’t here to embarrass her or make her uncomfortable. He didn’t want to put her off her step when she finally saw him. It’d be better to talk to her in a more secluded area. But he wanted to be here for her even if she didn’t know the extent of it.

He had his eye on the nearest exit when he felt hard eyes on the back of his head. He whirled around and saw a head of blonde hair walking furiously toward him in a tight blue dress.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Liz asked, Brady hot on her heels.

She grabbed Clay’s arm and started wrenching him out of the gallery. He easily followed her with a humorous glint in his eyes.

“You should leave.” She pointed toward the exit when they were far enough away from the main group of Andrea’s clients.

Brady had his huge mass mostly blocking them from view.

“I can’t leave,” Clay told her.

“Yes, you can, and you will.”

“Liz,” Brady said warningly.

She looked up at Brady with her big blue eyes, and for a second, her expression softened. “You know he can’t be here.”

“Andrea can’t keep running forever,” Brady said firmly. “This isn’t fair to him either.”

“I’m still standing right here,” Clay said.

“What are you doing here?” Liz asked. The edge was gone from her voice. She looked sad and resigned. Like she wanted to help him but thought the effort would be futile.

“I just came by to see how things were going for her.”

“Does she know you’re here?” Liz asked.

“No,” he admitted.

“No, of course not. She would have told me.”

“Look, I’m not here to cause her any trouble,” Clay insisted. He just needed to see Andrea and ask her a question. Then, he’d go.

“You can’t control whether or not it causes her trouble,” Brady told him.

Clay ran a hand back through his hair. “Yeah, but how much longer do I have to wait for her to come to me? She’s as stubborn as I am, and we both know that’s never going to happen. So, you’re telling me to just let her walk away, and I can’t do that.”

Liz straightened at the passion in his voice. “You really mean that.”

“Of course I do.”

“Look, I know you called and talked to her. Andrea and I have been hanging out since…the breakup. I know you have good intentions, but you being here is a bad idea.”

“For her, or for me?”

“Both of you!”

Clay shook his head. “You walked away from Brady, and he let you do it. How often did you wish for him to just come back into your life and whisk you off your feet?” he demanded. “How often did you think he’d just show back up, but he didn’t?”

Liz seemed to retreat into herself at the comment. It was as if she were going back in time and remembering something excruciatingly painful. She tried to clear her head from it, but the emotion was thick in her voice as she said, “More than I can count.”

“And you’re saying I can’t do that? When it was all you wanted?”

“Clay…”

“Let him go, Liz,” Brady said, resting his hand on her arm.

“What?” she asked.

“Just let him go. He’s right. He deserves the chance to talk to her.”

“Fine,” she said slowly. “Just try not to mess this up for her. She’s put a lot of time into the gallery.”

Brady clapped him on the back and smiled. “Go get her.”

“Thanks, man,” he said with honest gratitude he thought he’d never feel.

Clay left Brady and Liz behind, ignoring Liz’s words of warning. He just needed to find Andrea and invite her to the gala, and then everything would work itself out. They’d been through too much for the puzzle pieces not to fit back together again.

Then, he saw her.

She was standing in front of a trio of paintings of a landscape bursting in a rainbow of colors. It was a total contrast to the black lace dress hugging her frame and the stark honey color of her hair, which was hanging loose in waves down her back. The woman next to her was tall and lithe and kept gesturing to the artwork while shaking her head.

Clay had no intention of interrupting. It was just a marvel to see her again. His heart thudded, and something like panic flared in his chest.

Fuck.

He felt like a pussy.

There she was, standing like a sculpted goddess across the room. As if she herself were the artwork to be admired, not the paintings hanging limply on the wall.

How had he forgotten how beautiful she was in such a short period of time?

It was the longest they’d gone without the other. He was blinded by the sight of her. Her ass straining against the confines of her dress. The toned long legs he knew barreled through Pilates and yoga five times a week. The perky breasts that she complained were too small, but he’d always thought fit her. The slope of her neck up to her gorgeous face to that smile that would bring him to his knees.