“In all fairness he’s her ex-step-son.”

“Not sure that’s comforting.”

Clara set down her fork again. “I don’t think he has anything to do with her. I mean wouldn’t he have mentioned it?”

Randy shrugged.

Clara thought about the song and about the man. Her family had secrets too—scandal even. But nothing compared to that of Patricia Little’s drama.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and began searching for information.

“What are you doing?” Randy choked out.

“Looking for information. Why is his picture still in her house? How long ago was she married to his dad?”

“Why does this matter?”

“I don’t know. I like him.”

“Why?”

Clara looked up at him and smiled. “He’s just my type right?”

Randy laughed. “You’re a mess.”

Clara searched for Patricia Little’s husband with the last name of Wright. Lewis Wright had been her second husband. “Oh, God.”

“What? Did he ruin someone’s career too?”

She looked up at him. Tears were welling in her eyes. “His father committed suicide.”

“Damn.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You know what I hear in all this? He has baggage.”

“I have baggage.”

Randy wiped his mouth with his napkin and then threw it at her. “Clara Keller has no baggage.”

She bit down on her lip. He was right. She might come from the most eclectic family ever assembled, but her life had been squeaky clean. The only drama that had ever come about in her life was her mother’s cancer, which she beat, and most recently the admission that her brother’s fiancée was actually the baby her aunt had given up for adoption. Okay, when she thought about it, that did sound like some television drama. Though it just wasn’t that way. Her family wasn’t that way. The only person who was having a hard time dealing with her brother Ed’s fiancée was her cousin Tyler. But even he understood it, even if he did find it hard to deal with.

“Do you think I’m crazy to want to help him?”

“Yes.”

She dropped her shoulders. “That was a very definite answer.”

“You like to perform. You like to be on stage at the theater. He’s asking you to record.”

“So.”

“So, that’s not what you’ve wanted all this time.”

He was right. It sucked to have a best friend who knew you so well.

“It’s not like he wants me to be the talent for his songs. He just wants me to be the voice on the demo.”

Randy shook his head. “You’re going to fall for this guy and you’re going to get hurt.”

“I am not.”

“Not what? Going to fall or get hurt?”

She didn’t like how this conversation was going and worse she didn’t like that she couldn’t answer him.

Perhaps she needed to get to know him better. After all, she knew nothing except for what Patricia Little told the whole world on her trashy reality show.

Tomorrow, after the show, she’d get to know Warner Wright, but for now she needed to convince Randy to buy her breakfast. She had just realized she’d used all her money on Starbucks.

Chapter Three

Only in Nashville could a bar be packed on a Wednesday night when the entertainment wasn’t a big name.

Warner figured he could very easily get lost in the crowd which had gathered at The Stage, but the only table open was only feet from the stage under the enormous mural that decorated the wall.

He made his way through the people and sat down.

“Oh, no. I already have a seat for you,” the charming voice he’d already fallen in love with spoke from behind him.

Warner turned to find Clara Keller, in a flowy white shirt and hip hugging jeans, standing behind him in some angelic glow with the lights illuminating the red highlights in her hair.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. That was a lot to observe when all he wanted to do was hear the woman sing.

“You have a seat for me?”

Clara pointed to the raised seating area just behind him where all the tables had been pushed together and every seat was taken, but one. “Your seat awaits among my fans.”

Warner’s palms began to sweat. He recognized the man from the theater, her uncle. Oh, dear Lord! If that was her uncle, and they were all staring at him with grins on their faces, this must be her family. Was the woman crazy? She wanted him to sit with her family? He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready for any of this. God, no wonder they kept kicking him out of record exec’s offices. If he was a mess like this now, how could he possibly think he could have an artist criticize his work and change it?

He swallowed hard. He should be used to being under a microscope. Patricia Little had put him under one.

Seriously, he was having second thoughts about all this. Again, the bike courier job seemed like a better deal—in New York!

Clara took his hand and led him toward the group. The first man to stand narrowed his eyes at him. Warner’s mouth went dry.

“Warner, this is my father Carlos.”

The man extended his hand toward him and Warner shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise. So my little girl is going to help you with your songs?”

Oh, he felt little. “Yes. I think she is.”

Clara smiled at him. “He’s got some talent, Dad.”

“Well, wait until you really hear her.” Carlos smiled down at Clara and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

Clara pointed to a chair on the other side of the table. “You can sit there. That’s my brother Christian.” The man lifted his hand in a wave. “And my other brother Ed and his fiancée Darcy.” She looked at them all. “Is everyone here?”

Darcy pursed her lips and looked around. “All but Tyler.”

“I thought he was coming.”

Darcy let out a long breath and Ed took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “He doesn’t seem to feel very much like doing family things.”

There was a hesitation in her voice and Warner picked up on that right away. He’d heard that resonate from every person he’d ever been related to.