What followed was possibly the most difficult week of Jogi’s life. Not only did someone let a virus get into the PSF computer system, keeping him on his toes during the day, but he had dance lessons every evening at Sandy’s insistence.

“We have to know the right way to do these dances if we’re going to get them all wrong on competition night,” she explained as they stepped their way through a rumba.

Jogi hadn’t said anything, he’d just kept on dancing. He wasn’t going to admit to her or to himself that he liked holding her in his arms and tuning out everything but her and the steps of their dances. No wonder dancing had been seen as such an intimate activity for couples on the prowl for so many years. Lucky for him, a man’s fate in the world they lived in didn’t rest on whether he landed a wealthy socialite, like it could be argued Sandy was.

That didn’t make it any easier for him to accept that Friday night was the last time they’d be together. At least the mood in the hallways of the high school, where the competitors were waiting or getting in one last practice before hitting the performance space of the gym, was already tense. It hid a lot of the excess energy Jogi didn’t know what to do with.

“Stop looking so nervous,” Jonathan said, coming up behind Jogi and thumping a large hand on Jogi’s shoulder. “I’ve seen you and Sandy cutting it up during lessons. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks.” Jogi nodded. He couldn’t manage a smile in spite of the compliment. And he wasn’t about to sit there and explain the entire back story to Jonathan.

“I’m pretty sure Monica and I will be out after tonight,” Jonathan went on with a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t know why I signed up for this thing. I have three left feet.” He shook his head, and Jogi wondered if he should come up with something to say. He didn’t have to when Jonathan sighed and said, “Honestly, I was kind of hoping fate would do me a solid, like it did you, and pair me up with a certain Calliope Clutterbuck.”

Jogi’s brow lifted a bit at the hint, but a second later it dropped into a frown once more. “Fate didn’t do me any favors,” he muttered. “Quintus did.”

Jonathan laughed, not seeing the frustration Jogi was sure was painted all over his face. “Remind me to drop a hint to Quintus for the next competition.” Jonathan winked, then looked around. “Where is Sandy anyhow?”

Jogi huffed a wry laugh. “She’s still trying to get her costume just right.”

Jonathan let out a half amused, half strangled sound, shook his head, and looked down at his outfit. “Can you believe they’re making us wear these things?”

Jonathan had it easy. His costume consisted of black pants in some silky material and a shirt made out of some sort of black and silver iridescent material. Jogi’s outfit was a deep purple, and his shirt had a flame pattern outlined with sequins on one side. He was grateful that none of his siblings were there to see him or he’d never hear the end of it.

“The women are going nuts over their costumes,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve never seen so many feathers outside of a petting zoo.”

As if to underscore his point, Natalie walked around the corner from the hallway that led to the girls’ locker room, where the ladies were getting ready. She wore a cherry-red dress with a full skirt made out of some sort of flowy material and hemmed with what looked like a massive feather boa. There were more feathers around her neckline and the wide cuffs of her drapey sleeves. But instead of looking overjoyed to be dressed like a kiddie beauty pageant contestant, she wore a confused frown.

That frown deepened as she spotted Jogi and Jonathan, and she changed directions to march over to them, her dance heels clacking.

“Hey Jogi, have you seen this?” Natalie held a cell phone in her hand and held it up as she came closer to him.

“Seen what?” He was so relieved to have something else to think about that he didn’t even make a crack about the red glitter in Natalie’s lacquered hairdo or the glittery lipstick she wore.

“Isn’t that yours?” she asked, handing the cell phone over.

Jogi took the phone as both Natalie and Jonathan shifted to look over his shoulders. It took Jogi a second to grasp what he was seeing. Natalie’s browser was open to a webpage for what looked like an author of some sort. The background of the page was a landscape shot that matched the cover of the book being promoted. The cover image wasn’t particularly professional looking, but the title hinted that the book was some kind of suspense novel—

Then he saw it. He also saw red.

“Isn’t that one of the photos you took on the orienteering event?” Jonathan asked.

“That’s what I thought,” Natalie said. “It’s one of the ones that you showed me you’d put on that online gallery place.”

“Right.” Jonathan nodded, looking pleased that he’d remembered. “I didn’t know that you sold one of those images.”

“I didn’t,” Jogi said through clenched teeth.

“That’s what I thought,” Natalie repeated with more force, as if she too grasped the implication. “People can’t just steal images from sites like that and use them for book covers, can they?”

“No, they can’t.” Jogi handed Natalie’s phone back to her before the anger welling up inside him made him drop it. “It’s plagiarism.”

Natalie made a disgusted sound and tapped at her phone. “I’m sending you this link.”

“Are you certain that’s your exact photo?” Jonathan asked, somewhat hesitantly. “I mean, there could be any number of photos that were taken from the same spot at some point.”

Jogi shook his head, wishing he could pace off some of the rage turning his stomach to acid. “I’d have to get a closer look to be sure, but the photo I put up on that site is a composite image. I also included some digital markers in the file so that I’d be able to tell if something like this happened.”

“You can do that?” Natalie asked, a touch of hope lighting her expression.

“Yeah,” Jogi answered, too irate to explain further.

“So what are you going to do?” Natalie lowered her phone, looking like she was ready to help.

“Sounds like you need a lawyer,” Jonathan said before Jogi could answer. His mouth twitched into a knowing smile, giving Jogi a split-second heads up before Jonathan nodded down the hall and went on with, “Lucky for you, here comes one right now.”

Jogi tried not to wince as he turned to find Sandy striding down the hall toward him in a cloud of lavender chiffon. All worries about plagiarism and thwarted love affairs were forgotten as he drank in the sight of her. Lavender was the perfect color to contrast with her mocha skin. She’d rubbed some kind of glitter on her long, graceful arms and across her chest that gave her an ethereal glow. Her hair was caught up in an elegant style—far from the gaudy hairdo that Natalie sported—and Sandy’s make-up made her look like some sort of exotic princess.

Jogi forgot everything but the way he felt about her under the baggage they’d loaded on each other, until she said, “What’s going on?” Her voice held no energy at all.

“Jogi’s had one of his photographs plagiarized by some author.” Natalie jumped right into the story. She raised her phone and tapped it a few times so that she could show the webpage to Sandy.

“What?” This time, there was more than enough energy in her voice and the fire was back in her eyes. She rose to a challenge that fast.

“It’s one of the images I put on the online gallery,” Jogi admitted as Sandy took Natalie’s phone and glared at it. “That author must have thought he could download whatever he wants to use for his book.”

“There are laws against this,” Sandy growled, scrolling through whatever she was seeing on the phone.

“That’s why I think Jogi here needs a lawyer,” Jonathan said.

Twin feelings of relief at Sandy finding out about the violation and dread at the way she would handle it glued Jogi to his spot, preventing him from saying anything. He had no right to get her involved in his business…and she had no right to barge in and take over yet another thing from him. If that’s what she was planning to do.

“Fifteen minutes, everyone, fifteen minutes,” Carl called in his car salesman voice as he walked through the halls. He passed their small group, made pistols with his hands, and winked at Sandy. “Lookin’ good, babe. Fifteen minutes.” He walked on, his gait entirely too bouncy and his voice much too loud.

“I need to go find Ronny,” Natalie sighed. Sandy handed her phone back, and Natalie waved and walked off.

“And Monica is probably looking for me.” Jonathan gave Jogi a quick wink and a gesture in imitation of Carl and jogged off to look for his partner.

Which left Jogi and Sandy standing there alone.

It took every ounce of will power Sandy had not to launch into a lecture on how Jogi should handle the plagiarist. Cases like his were all too common in the modern world, but there was a quick and easy way to take care of them. She could do it in half an hour without blinking an eyelash.

And she could damage whatever shred of good will she had left with him.

She wasn’t willing to risk it. Not after the week they’d had together. Things had been good between them. Not great, but okay. She’d held her tongue as much as she could as they learned and practiced dances. She’d stood in Jogi’s arms, feeling the heat of his body, his strong arms holding her, his scent filling her senses. She’d remembered what it was like to be with him.

She’d remembered how much she’d lost.

And now she was just standing there, too locked up with indecision and regret to say even the stupidest bit of small talk. It was like they were every bit as awkward and immature as the kids who usually roamed the high school’s halls. And still she couldn’t bring herself to say a single thing. Not one damn thing.

Open your mouth and say something, you dope!

“I trusted that website,” Jogi said at last.

It was such a relief to have the frustrating silence broken that Sandy gasped audibly. But all she trusted herself to say was, “I’m sorry.” She was going to wait for Jogi to ask for her help if it killed her.

And it just might kill her.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said.

She blinked in shock at the gruffness of his tone. “I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“You had that intense look in your eyes, like you want to tell me how I should handle this,” he went on.

“But I didn’t say a thing.” She would not let her efforts to do the right thing fall apart.

“You wanted to.”

“I—” She forced her mouth closed and crossed her arms. He knew her a little too well. Which did not help her current emotional state one bit.

“Don’t worry.” Jogi let out a breath, his tone defeated. He rubbed his chin. After everything, he still hadn’t shaved his beard, although it was well-trimmed. “After tonight, we’re done. We can stay out of each other’s hair.”

Disappointment rang through Sandy. “Yeah,” she said, lowering her eyes.

She couldn’t leave it at that, not when there was even a hint of hope that they could part on better terms. She raised her head and opened her mouth.

“Look at you two. Don’t you look sweet.”

The unexpected compliment came from none other than Guy Sedgewick. He and his wife walked down the hall arm in arm, presumably on their way to the gym.

“I can’t wait to see everyone’s costumes,” Abigail told Sandy, excitement in her eyes. “I hear Howie really splurged on everyone’s outfits.”

The sudden shift in conversation left Sandy scrambling to know what to say.

Jogi was faster than her. “Thank you, Mrs. Sedgewick.” He smiled. The first smile she’d seen from him all week.

“Thank you,” Sandy jumped in. As soon as her mind reengaged in the situation, it kicked into full gear. “Guy, I was wondering if I could make an appointment to come talk to you sometime soon.”

Beside her, Jogi dropped into a frown, glancing between her and Guy. His frown narrowed further when Guy answered Sandy with an ironic laugh.

“I was told you’d come after me,” he said.

“Oh, Guy, really.” Abigail swatted his arm, grinning up at him.

Sandy wasn’t going to be deterred by Guy’s condescending attitude. “I’m not coming after anyone, per se,” she said in as professional a voice as she could manage while wearing lavender chiffon and sequins. “I just want to discuss the situation at the bank with you.”

Jogi’s expression softened into understanding, but it was Guy who said, “I figured.”

Sandy took a small step toward him. “You know as well as I do that the situation with the Flint fossil was not my father’s mistake.”

Guy surprised her by saying, “We all know that.”

Sandy rocked back, blinking. “Then why are you following along with Richard Bonneville’s efforts to have my father voted out as the bank’s CEO?”

“Are you sure this is the right time and place to discuss such weighty things?” Abigail all but whispered. “Don’t you have a dance competition to take part in?”

“We do,” Jogi began, hesitated, then said, “But this is important to Sandy, to her whole family.”

A blossom of gratitude flowered in Sandy’s gut. She didn’t have time to give Jogi so much as a smile in thanks though. “We need to stand up to Bonneville and his schemes, not roll over for him.”

Once again, Guy responded with the kind of patriarchal chuckle that set Sandy’s teeth on edge. “It’s not just the fossil thing, Sandra.” He had the gall to call her by her full name, like she was a child in trouble. “Wainright is getting up there. You know as well as anyone that his health isn’t what it used to be. Richard is simply looking out for the bank and its shareholders’ best interests. He’s trying to prevent a bigger disaster.”

“Voting my father out of the position he’s held for nearly fifty years is not the way to do that,” Sandy argued.

“Five minutes, everybody, five minutes,” Carl called out, heading back down the hall with his signature, swaying step. He made the same finger-pistol, winking gesture as he passed Jogi and Sandy. “Five minutes, kids.”

“You’d better get going,” Abigail said, looking excited once more. “You wouldn’t want to be disqualified before you even start.”

“My family’s legacy is more important than a dance competition,” Sandy insisted.

“We won’t miss the competition,” Jogi added, backing her up.

Sandy’s second wave of gratitude was cut short as Guy said, “Maybe we can make a deal here.”

Sandy’s excitement quickly turned into suspicion. “What sort of deal?”

Guy smiled at his wife, almost as if he had a treat for her as much as a deal for Sandy. Abigail blinked at him in expectation. He winked, then turned to Sandy and Jogi. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s make this interesting. I’m only going along with what Richard wants because I figure a change will do us all good.”

Sandy wanted to argue that change wasn’t always good, but clearly Guy wanted to go on.

“So how about this? If you two win this dance competition, I’ll vote to keep Wainright as the bank’s CEO.”

“Wait, what?” Jogi gaped at him.

Guy’s grin widened. “If you win, Sandy gets my vote. If you two lose, Richard gets it.”

“How exciting,” Abigail said, clutching a hand to her heart.

Jogi exchanged a glance with Sandy. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to determine the fate of a bank, not to mention a legacy, on one dance competition.”

“I’ll do it,” Sandy agreed in a rush of breath. She was probably out of her mind, but desperation did that to people.

“What?” Jogi asked her.

“I’ll do it,” she repeated. A second too late, she realized what that implied as far as Jogi was concerned. Once again, she was pushing what she wanted on him without asking him first. She blinked. “If you’re okay with it.”

Jogi’s mouth dropped open, and he blinked rapidly, looking more offended than Sandy was ready for. “I—”

“This is so exciting,” Abigail said, almost fluttering. “I want in on it. Jogi.” She turned to him. “If you and Sandy win this dance competition, I’ll clear the gallery’s schedule and give you a showing this fall, right away.”

Jogi’s mouth stayed open, but the emotion in his expression changed. “You’d do that?”

“If you win, yes.” Abigail beamed. She turned to Guy. “Isn’t this fun?”

“One minute, folks! One minute to go,” Carl called from the end of the hall. “Jogi and Sandy, we need you over here now.”

Jogi glanced down the hall to Carl, then back to Abigail and Guy. He checked in with Sandy, color splashing his cheeks, determination set in his eyes. She stared right back at him, unflinching.

“We’ll do it,” Jogi said. He glanced to Abigail and Guy and repeated, “We’ll do it.”

“Then you’d better hurry up,” Guy said, still way too smarmy for Sandy’s liking. “They’re about to start.”

“Go, go, go!” Abigail cheered them on.

Jogi grabbed Sandy’s hand and headed down the hall toward the gym’s back entrance without another word.

“We haven’t practiced for this,” Sandy said, her head still spinning with the suddenness of the bet, not to mention its importance.

“We practiced enough,” Jogi told her. “All we have to do is land in the top half of competitors tonight. We’ll work harder next week.”

Sandy wanted to argue the point, but she didn’t have time. They reached the end of the line of competing couples just in time to walk in with everyone else. It meant that they weren’t in the spot where they were supposed to be as the couples lined up in the oval marked out in the center of the gym as most of Haskell applauded them, but seeing as Howie was doing the announcing, he waited to introduce them at the appropriate time.

“Now before we move on to the first dance, the foxtrot,” Howie continued his booming announcement. “Let’s introduce the judges for our competition.”

The audience applauded. Sandy’s heart beat a mile a minute as she glanced around the room. She’d barely had time to get her bearings as all the couples were announced. The room was packed. Bleachers had been set up around the perimeter of the competition oval so that everyone could get a good view of the dances. Howie was at one end of the oval, but it took her a second to spot the judges’ stand along one side.

“That’s Louise Meyers on the far right,” Howie introduced the judges. “Next to her is our own Patty Pettigrew. In the middle we have Brian Dawson, PSF’s very own operations director. Next to him is Tricia Todd from the Haskell Chamber of Commerce. And at the other end, our final judge—now where is he?”

Sandy craned her neck to see if she could figure out who should be sitting in the final seat at the end of the row.

“Ah, here he comes,” Howie went on as Sandy spotted Guy and Abigail edging their way through the crowd. “Our final judge, folks, Guy Sedgewick from the Double S Ranch.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Jogi said exactly what Sandy was thinking. Guy was the final judge. The man who had made the bet with them was one of the people who would determine the outcome of the competition. They’d been had.

“He is not going to get away with this,” Sandy growled as Howie gave instructions for the couples to take their positions throughout the dance floor. “There is no way he is going to get away with tricking us like this.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Jogi asked as he led her to the far end of the oval and took her into his arms.

Sandy sent one final glare Guy’s way, then turned to face Jogi with resolute determination. “We’re going to show him the best damn foxtrot he’s ever seen.”