My Kind of Trouble
Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
HARMONY
Sitting in the gazebo in the center of Brookville’s grassy town square, Harmony Hale took a long sip of her iced coffee and thought it didn’t look like the kind of town run by the most corrupt man you’d ever meet.
Then again, in her straw fedora, teal surplice jumpsuit fitted over her generous curves, and strappy kitten heels, Harmony probably didn’t look like the kind of person who could shatter the life of the most corrupt man you’d ever meet, but that was exactly what she was here to do. That was what she had done to dozens of others—who’d all deserved it for one reason or another. But none as much as the mayor of Brookville.
“You ready to charm him?” Alice, sitting on the bench beside her, asked with a grin, before slurping up some of her own blended coffee through a bright pink straw.
Alice Burrows. Harmony’s reconnaissance woman, assistant, and best friend. She’d arrived in town a few weeks ahead of Harmony, getting the lay of the land.
Harmony raised the coffee Alice had brought from the café where she’d gotten a job (perfect for meeting people and hearing gossip). She made a little toast and smirked. “Like I always do.” But she wasn’t talking about charming the mayor—not yet. Today she had her sights set on a different man. The last cog in the trap that the mayor would greedily walk into and spring himself, like the rat he was.
Her fingers tightened around her plastic cup, pressing into the cold condensation. “When is this guy supposed to show?” That morning she and Furiosa—her convertible—had driven up from a small town outside Santa Barbara, where she’d taken the life savings off the football coach of a private university who’d covered up the sexual misconduct of his star athletes for years. Unsurprisingly, it had been easy to tempt him with the opportunity to invest most of his ungodly salary in a soon-to-be-announced college sports streaming platform that didn’t actually exist. And without any of that cash left to pay off witnesses and campus police, she figured he wouldn’t have his job much longer either. The latest victim would be able to get a fair trial against his star cornerback—especially with the chunk of the coach’s money Harmony had anonymously donated to her legal fund. But the high of that recent victory had already worn off, and Harmony was buzzing with the need to get this job rolling.
The job. The one she’d had her sights on since she started grifting. At first, she’d worked for others, learning the tricks of the trade, but soon she’d set up her own operation and brought Alice on board, the two of them going after her favored targets. And now the time was finally here. Not that she wanted to rush the con—she intended to enjoy this.
She swished another sip of sweet, creamy coffee over her tongue. It had taken a few years to amass the resources she’d need to pull it off. Those leftover football coach funds were going to such a good cause. Now she only had to line up one last piece of her plan. So where was the guy?
“Every day at three on the dot.” Alice scrunched her long, thin nose. “Man’s like a machine with the routine. He’s been too easy to follow. Barely goes anywhere. He leaves the library for the school every weekday, same time.”
Harmony stared at the wooden doors of the library, willing him to appear. The building’s white plaster walls made up one side of the town square, along with a senior center and a parking lot. Across the lawn, where a small group was practicing yoga and a few children toddled around scattered blankets, crouched the red brick town hall. On this early spring afternoon, several people occupied benches along the paths, drinking coffee or scrolling on their phones, and others strolled before the storefronts that made up the rest of the square, their doors open invitingly, sandwich boards blazoned with daily specials or sales.
Every small town was essentially the same. Contrary to popular belief, not everyone in town knew absolutely everyone else, but the people were nosy and judgmental, yet far too trusting at the same time. So easy for Harmony to play like violins to get closer to her targets who hid among them. She savored the bitter aftertaste of her coffee, imagining a few months from now when all these people would know Mayor Travis Weaver for what he truly was. They’d be ready to tar and feather him—metaphorically, at least, spreading the news of his downfall to social media. He’d be done in Brookville—and the tech world, where he’d made his millions—forever.
You know who didn’t usually have millions, or acres of real estate holdings? Full-time civil servants. “And you’re sure this is the guy who owns the land?” she asked Alice. “A librarian?” He was a last-second addition to their plan; Alice had originally found a hobby farmer for Harmony to target, some middle-aged divorcé looking to move away from Brookville, the type she could always have eating out of her hand in minutes. But then Travis goddamn Weaver happened to put in an offer on the very land she needed for her scheme, and they’d had to scramble.
“Don’t you trust me?” Alice dropped her jaw and batted her lashes, hand spread over her chest.
Harmony rolled her eyes. She didn’t trust anyone.
They broke into laughter at the same time, Alice’s staccato cackle against Harmony’s throaty chuckle.
“You’ve gotten mixed up before,” Harmony reminded Alice. “One cute clerk at the records office in San Diego meant I spent three days seducing the wrong Paul Thompson.” One who hadn’t even owned a car, let alone a franchise of restaurants where he’d been fighting unionization efforts by reporting his own employees to immigration.
“That clerk was cute,” Alice admitted with a sigh. “He had dimples .” Harmony snorted, still grateful for Alice’s help. She was easily distracted but good with details about their marks and tracking down targets who were practically begging for someone to come along and charm them out of their ill-gotten gains. It was a public service, really, providing benefits for everyone. Justice for society and cash for Harmony’s untraceable bank accounts.
“I double-checked,” Alice reassured her, dragging her straw through the lid until it made little squeaks. “The land’s not zoned for development, so the family’s just passed it along through the generations.”
Which meant it would be a piece of cake to convince the librarian to lease the land to Harmony for her plan. She tried to douse her impatience with another sip of sugary coffee, letting her attention follow the long roll and clatter of skaters attempting kickflips on the pavement around a fountain at one corner of the green. For some reason, someone had given the statue above the trickling water a wide-brimmed and well-feathered hat like he was off to the derby. Just beyond, older kids ran through the entrance of an arcade—the VRcade, its neon sign declared, beckoning Brookville’s youth to the metaverse.
“There he is.”
Harmony’s gaze shot back to the library. A man who had to be over seventy shuffled down the path that led to the street, library book tucked in the crook of his age-spotted arm.
“Alice, what the hell?” Harmony laughed. “You told me this was gonna be a charm-and-disarm. I think I may need a different approach.” She could get anyone wrapped around her little finger, but strategy was everything. Setting down her coffee, she grabbed her Staud purse from the bench. She had time to wipe off this red lipstick; the mark was still barely to the curb.
“Not him .” Alice shook her head, brown hair fluttering around her narrow face, which was breaking into a grin as she pointed past Harmony. “ Him . Preston Jones. Full charm ahead.”
Harmony turned back to see a very tall, very lanky man—white, just about her age, maybe mid- to late twenties—emerging from behind the senior citizen. He hurried down the steps, dark hair ruffling and herringbone jacket flapping. Nervous energy practically crackled up and down the long length of him as he fumbled his leather messenger bag open to stuff a book inside and furrowed his brow above glasses glinting in the afternoon sun.
“Oh, god,” Harmony said thinly, setting down her purse. “I think if I turn the full strength of my charm on that flagpole wrapped in tweed it might actually kill him.” A bubble of laughter broke from her chest.
Alice snickered.
Harmony stood. She shook her hair back over her shoulders and cocked her hat at what she knew from plenty of practice in front of the mirror was a rakish angle. Then she strode down the gazebo steps and across the lawn toward the next lucky victim to fall under her spell.
She and her charm met Preston halfway up the path to the library. “Can I trouble you a moment?”
Though his thick eyebrows shot up at her words, the librarian didn’t slow, just mumbled, “Oh, god.” He barreled past her. “No.”
Not the usual reaction. Harmony fell into step beside him, matching each of his long strides with two of hers. “It’ll only take a moment.” She let her smile spread wide and released a gentle half laugh. She’d pinned politicians and millionaires in place with that soft huff of breath. Men hated the idea of being laughed at, but they loved being in on a joke—even a nonexistent one—with a beautiful woman.
“Sorry.” Her current mark kept his gaze aimed straight ahead, missing out entirely on her bewitching smile, as he sped up and turned from the main path, where a branch split off toward the parking lot. His fisted hands twisted the strap of his bag across his chest like he was wringing the neck of his mortal enemy. And did he actually mutter “ Not today, Satan ” under his breath?
Even with her heels clip-clopping over the pavement like a show pony on Adderall, Harmony couldn’t keep up with his ridiculously long legs. But when he stopped beside the bike rack at the front of the parking lot, she caught up with him.
“It’s an important matter,” she said, as he unlocked a green bike and slid a white helmet from its handlebars. He obviously had somewhere to be—the school, Alice had said, though what could be so important at a school of all places Harmony couldn’t guess. Some kind of book emergency? Pressing an open palm to her ample chest—such a crude technique, but when in doubt, draw attention there—she reassured him, “Though I have an appointment soon, so just a word and then I myself must be going—”
He slammed his helmet over his brown curls, snapped its buckle shut, and swung one long leg over the bike. “Great,” he pronounced sternly.
And with that, he launched himself and the bike out of the parking lot and down the street, leaving Harmony gaping after him.
She clamped her mouth shut. Nope. She didn’t gape. And she never panicked. Harmony always rolled with whatever her grifts threw her way, taking everything in stride. Except she’d just been out-strode.
What had just happened?
Maybe he was gay. Or ace. Harmony could work with that. Switch to another approach. She was lovable in so many ways. Maybe he was fatphobic. Then she could teach him a lesson along with his mayor. There was no limit to the number of assholes she could take down in one town. But she needed this asshole to get to the one that mattered.
Harmony traced her finger along the empty bike rack, thoughtful. Maybe he simply needed her to show even more charm. This wasn’t schmoozey L.A. or social-climbing San Francisco, where she could dangle the promise of an opportunity like a handkerchief and everyone would jump for it. People could be stubborn in small towns.
Either way, this was going to be a challenge. She recalled the librarian’s tensed full mouth, the flash of blazing blue eyes behind his thick glasses. Harmony rolled her shoulders back, her gaze chasing down the tree-lined street where he sped away. She loved a challenge.
This was going to be fun.