Rival Hearts

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Maggie

I opened the door to the karaoke bar one town over from Little Falls, the June breeze blowing in behind. I was probably the last one to arrive, but Mrs. Smith was a talker, and she’d walked me out of the pharmacy to her car to gripe about small-town politics. Dispensing medications was my first job and listening to the people in my town was my second.

“Ahhh! Maggie!” Lila, my best friend, cried from the bar as soon as she caught sight of me at the entrance. “I love you for closing up early,” she said when she reached me. With her glossy black hair cascading over her shoulders, she looked like she belonged in a commercial for hair products.

“Like I’d miss this!” I grinned and enveloped Lila in a hug. “Besides, I gave my customers lots of notice. It’s your birthday. Welcome to the dirty thirties. Is there anyone in Little Falls who doesn’t know it’s your big day?” Once I learned they’d planned an open mic night instead of singing karaoke, the decision to attend was easier.

Not that I would have said ‘no,’ even if Lila signed me up for a solo performance. Earplugs might have been a necessity for everyone else, though. Neither of us could carry a tune if our lives depended on it, but Lila loved to marvel at the talent of others. I suffered through her addiction to pop star-wannabe television shows like The Voice and American Idol because there was no friend in the world I loved more than Lila Wang.

“It’s not usually the paying customers who keep you away.” Lila looped her arm with mine and sauntered past the sports memorabilia dotting the walls toward the long table at the back of the bar. Her table was closest to the stage, of course. “It’s those customers who come into your pharmacy looking for the mayor who are the real time suck.”

“You enjoy my mayor status.” I gave Lila a sideways glance. “It helps while we’re in the urban renewal meetings and we function like one brain.” I tapped Lila’s temple.

“There’s still no one registered to run against you?” With her fingers crossed, she squeezed her eyes closed. She mouthed, please say ‘no .’

“No one yet. The deadline is tomorrow.” Up ahead at the heavy wooden table, my older brother and sister, Tyler and Emily, were laughing, probably at some inside joke no one else understood. Other friends were gathered around, celebratory drinks in hand.

“Four more years, baby!” Lila released me and threw up her hands. “Did you tell anyone else yet?”

I glanced around, hoping no one heard Lila’s enthusiastic cheer. While the likelihood of someone springing up at the last minute to run against me was slim, I didn’t like to make proclamations until I was sure they’d come true. “Tomorrow night,” I said. “When it’s definite.”

“Anyone with eyes knows what a great job you’ve been doing for our town. In four years, you’ve managed to revitalize the downtown core.”

A small smile rose at her claim. It was true, sort of. There was still lots of work to be done to create the Little Falls of my vision. The fact we traveled to the next town over for this event made me feel like a traitor. I should have insisted on doing something locally to support the downtown core I’d so painstakingly cultivated. But our small town of four thousand hadn’t quite established a nightlife.

And I’d never been able to say no to Lila. Ever since we met on the playground when we were five, we’d been best friends. Lila’s family emigrated from China and, even though we didn’t speak the same language at first, it felt like our hearts strained toward one another, seeking something only each other could provide. We often called ourselves sisters by choice. My family accepted Lila as one of our own. According to Lila, she hadn’t felt like an only child since she’d met us. Sometimes, Lila said, she forgot she was one.

“Lila’s in the house!” Tyler stood up and saluted us with a sloshy beer. He owned a thrift shop in town and followed fashion with the same passion I devoted to medications and innovations in medical treatments. Although he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt like the rest of the people at the table, the cut of his clothes was more flattering, as though he’d told his outfit to behave, and it had listened.

Lila laughed at Tyler’s theatrics as she plopped down beside him. Her lilac dress billowed around her knees. Without waiting for an invitation, she grabbed his beer from his hand, tipped it back, and downed the rest. I couldn’t help a grimace. If there was one thing we sometimes bickered about, it was that I no longer let loose with alcohol.

For a while, we’d been united in our drunken ways. Perhaps if I was able to control my wayward thoughts and actions when I had one drink too many, I’d be able to indulge. I no longer trusted myself where alcohol was concerned.

“Where are the shots?” Lila scanned the table, searching for willing participants. “Jell-O shooters? It’s my birthday!” She threw up her hands and let out another whoop, drawing everyone’s attention toward the table.

Tyler signaled the waitress while I found a chair near the end of the group, facing the stage. They’d all be getting drunk, and at least this way, I wouldn’t feel excluded for one part of the evening. By the time everyone needed a ride home, I’d be the most popular person there. I preferred being on the fringes, but I had learned to be adaptable. Being the outgoing, social butterfly was needed to perform my mayoral duties, and I could embrace that persona when I had to.

Top 40 tunes blared from the speakers, and I ordered water from the waitress when she made her next pass. Fernando, one of Lila’s work colleagues, leaned into my shoulder and put his lips close to my ear.

“What time does this start?”

I shifted toward him so my voice would travel over the buzz of the crowd. “In a minute or two.” I checked my watch. The first performer should have started five minutes ago. Running behind for some reason? Or fashionably late? Maybe the potential performers were intimidated by the large audience? I’d been here before with Lila for an open mic night, and the bar hadn’t been this packed.

The yellow curtain on the stage stirred. Kareena, the owner, burst through the gap to the small bit of stage in front. She looked flushed and too excited for a simple open mic night. “Ladies and Gentlemen.” She waited for everyone to quiet down.

I sat straighter in my chair. The place hummed with an unusual energy.

“Tonight, as some of you know—news like this spreads like wildfire—we have the privilege of a very special guest.” Kareena glanced behind her, her brown cheeks rosy. “Oh gosh, I am so excited.” She giggled and covered her mouth.

I frowned and eyed everyone in our party who looked equally confused. Other people in the crowd whooped and hollered as though they, too, knew the secret. What could be so special about some singer at open mic in a town barely bigger than Little Falls?

“I was going to do this big, long spiel about our guest, but he asked me to keep it simple since his appearance is last-minute. So, maybe I’ll let it be a surprise to those of you who don’t know yet.” Her grin was broad enough to split her face. “Enjoy the night, everyone!” With a flourish, she threw back the curtains and disappeared.

“That was weird,” Fernando muttered. “The only person I know who has ever inspired that kind of weirdness is—”

The curtain peeled back, and the chords of a familiar song started. My breath caught in my throat.

Grady Castillo .

I never uttered his name. Hadn’t spoken it in years. He’d burst onto the music scene with his stint on Center Stage , the talent discovery program, when I was at college in Florida. Lila had told me how crazy my town went over one of our own winning the top spot. A heap of money and a recording contract. When he only produced one successful album and then largely disappeared, I was thrilled.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Fernando called over the familiar beat of the song. “I wonder what he’s doing back here.”

I braced myself for the lyrics. I didn’t want to look at him, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away.

He’d aged well, which caused a spike of irrational anger. His brown hair was artfully tousled, and his brown eyes, even from here, had the same soulful expression. They hinted at so much emotional depth, just under the surface. Those eyes probably fooled many women into thinking he was a decent guy. His skin was a light shade of brown, a color I used to envy because my pale, freckled skin could never achieve it. Those impossibly long, muscular legs were bent, and his boot-clad feet rested on the rungs of the stool he was perched on while he strummed his guitar.

This song, more than any of the others on his album, boiled my rage. The song was a lie. Whenever it came on the radio, I turned it off. If someone started singing it, I had to grit my teeth. Everyone in our little town knew this song was about Grady’s brother, Trent, and his stint in jail. It was also about me. What cut the deepest was that some people believed Trent had gone to jail protecting me.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

But we’d created our lies together, and I wasn’t one to break a promise. The experience taught me to be more careful about who I got into bed with. I suppose we all learn that particular lesson at some point, but for me, that lesson was layered.

Lila, who was the only person in the world other than Trent who knew most of the truth, wrapped her arms around my shoulders. She pressed her cool cheek to mine with the hint of barley floating around us.

“If you want to get out of here,” Lila whispered in my ear, “just say the word.”

I tilted my head back but couldn’t quite make eye contact. “I’m not ruining your birthday because Grady decided to grace us with his presence.”

Before I’d admitted some of the truth, Lila was a puddle at Grady’s feet like the majority of the town. He’d made it into the final Center Stage show, and everyone rooted for him. Then, he won the top prize. Around here, Grady was a golden boy, even if his fame didn’t stick anywhere else.

The sound of the guitar rose, spreading out across the bar, and the room came alive with the crowd bursting into the chorus. A rousing anthem about brotherly love and the betrayal of a woman. Every word cut me like the sharpest knife. I gritted my teeth, determined to ride his performance out. Surely, Grady wouldn’t be the sole singer on stage. Other people would perform. He’d sing a few songs and disappear. I could suffer through his brief appearance for Lila.

She gave me a squeeze and eased off my shoulders to wander back to Tyler and her seat beside him. I had fled to Florida for college, telling everyone who asked that my move was for a warmer climate. The truth and a lie, all rolled into one.

After Trent was arrested, I needed some distance from this place, from these people, from the jackass on stage who blamed me for his brother’s harsh sentence. Throughout it all, I hadn’t told anyone the truth. When Lila visited me in Florida, I had finally broken down and told her almost everything. All the lies had been shameful, but for some reason the truth had felt worse.

Song after song I sat with my arms crossed, wishing I could be anywhere but here. He didn’t bother to speak between songs, to work the crowd. Other people in the bar clapped, sang along, sighed wistfully at the sheer magnetic presence of Grady Castillo, while I fumed. Each lyric was another needle pricking me. As much as I hated him, his album proved he felt exactly the same.

Our relationship hadn’t always been bitter. In high school, when I’d gone to Sunday dinner at Trent’s house, I caught Grady staring at me as though he couldn’t figure me out. His curiosity made me happy, ignited something in me too. Let him stew . Let him wonder . Then, the fuse I’d lit blew up in my face.

“I need a drink,” I muttered to Fernando before standing and smoothing my skirt. Water wasn’t going to be enough. Shoulders back, I headed toward the bar. There was a long line, and I stood tapping my foot out of sync with the musician on stage. I was almost at the front when the music stopped, and I sighed with relief. Did I still need a drink? If this ordeal was over, there was no need to give into a bad habit. Turning on my heel, I plowed into a very solid, very broad chest.

The soft fabric of his shirt, the tangy smell of him assaulted my senses with a flurry of punches, almost knocking me out. The simple navy round neck slithered across his muscles underneath. Part of me hated that I knew about his muscles, but beneath my hatred was a frisson of lust, familiar, unwanted.

My body was a traitor. I’d spent the last hour staring at the center of his chest instead of his stupid chiseled face, not giving him the satisfaction of making eye contact. What would I see in Grady’s eyes when I glanced up? Twelve years ago, we’d been this close, closer, and those eyes stole a piece of my soul. I couldn’t afford to give any more away.

With a deep breath, I stepped back and stared at him. He was stupidly tall and broad. I couldn’t remember exactly how tall. Six foot five, maybe? Enough to hurt my neck if I was too close, barefoot, and looked up for too long. I squared my shoulders and gave him a sugary smile. “You must be thirsty.” My tone was so sweet it dripped syrup. “All that singing would be hell on your voice. No need to speak.” I held up a hand in the direction of his face. “I wouldn’t want you to strain your precious vocal cords.”

Grady’s brown eyes scanned me, and I tried to decipher the emotion behind them. Amusement and something else I couldn’t place. He chuckled and raised his bottle of water. “No need to worry, Maggie May. I don’t make a living off my voice anymore, so I can let it get as rough as it needs to be.”

The familiar timbre sent an unexpected jolt through me. I hadn’t heard his voice in person since that night. Goose bumps rose on my arms, and I yanked my sweater tighter. “My middle name isn’t May.”

His lips quirked up, unrepentant, and he didn’t respond. Someone tried to get his attention. He shook his head and gave them an apologetic smile, gesturing toward me. “We’re catching up.” The crowd around him thinned back.

“No, we’re not,” I muttered.

His lips quirked again, but he didn’t say anything.

“You’re back in town, then? Trying to make something of your life?” I jutted out my chin and crossed my arms. Any sense of playing nice disappeared. The goose bumps on my skin were from disgust, nothing else. I hated him.

He scanned the crowded bar. “Seems to be a few people who think I’ve already made something of myself.” He shrugged. “But they’re probably easily impressed—give them a glossy surface and they’ll root for anyone.” He directed his pointed gaze at me and sipped his bottle of water. “I heard you’d graduated from ruining one man’s life to taking down a whole town. Little Falls still standing, or have you demolished it as well?”

His mother lived in Little Falls on the opposite side of town to my family. Penny Castillo had put my sign on her lawn during the previous election. Of all the conflicts I had helped to settle over the last four years as mayor, none of them caused my blood to boil like Grady was doing right now. He knew nothing about anything.

Leaning forward on my toes, I said, “I’ve spent the last four years looking after the people you abandoned while you chased fame and fortune.” I raised my eyebrows in a challenge. I’d been the one to help Penny Castillo fix her garage when a windstorm had taken off half the roof; I’d been the one who picked up Trent from jail when he was finally released; I’d been the one to find his brother a job a few towns over when no one else wanted to hire him. What had Grady done? Won a singing contest and disappeared.

“Only four years?” His intensity drilled into me. “What was Trent’s sentence again?”

I hated the heat creeping into my face.

Rage.

The heat was from rage and not humiliation. “It’ll be me looking after them for another four years twenty-four hours from now.”

“What are you talking about?” His sharp gaze turned curious, thoughtful.

My jaw ached from holding back the diatribe threatening to explode out. “I’m running uncontested for another term as mayor of Little Falls.”

Grady pinched the bridge of his nose and then looked toward the ceiling. “Uncontested?”

“That’s right. Uncontested,” Lila said, appearing out of nowhere to throw her arm around my shoulders. Her words were slurred, but I was so glad for the backup, her level of drunkenness didn’t matter. “It’s because she’s the best fucking mayor in any town anywhere.”

Throwing back his head, Grady laughed. “In any town anywhere?”

With a frown, Lila used one finger and pressed it into his broad chest. “Yes! God. Why do you have to be such a hot prick?”

I clamped my hand over Lila’s mouth. In the morning, Lila would regret those words. “She meant the prick part. The hot part is the Jell-O shots talking. Everyone in this bar is hot to her right now.”

“What makes you so sure no one is going to run against you at the last minute?” Grady’s eyebrows lifted, and he raised his bottle to his lips again.

Lila laughed through my hand and removed it from her face. “Because they’d have to own property in town, get enough supporters or file as an independent, and they’d have to think they could beat Maggie. No one is that dumb or that desperate.” Considering how drunk Lila appeared to be, I was impressed with how smoothly her little speech spilled out of her. “And,” Lila added, holding up her finger, “we know everyone who fits the criteria, and they’re not running.” She cocked an eyebrow at Grady and flicked out a hip. “Maggie’s got it in the bag.”

On instinct, I wanted to correct Lila, but the expression on Grady’s face made me hold my tongue. Technically, Lila wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t like the way Grady’s gaze turned calculating as it dragged across us. He chuckled to himself, and a hint of amusement lit his face.

A Hispanic woman I didn’t recognize appeared at the edge of our circle. “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Castillo. But we were hoping to get a selfie and an autograph? You’re like the biggest celebrity around here.”

“Sure.” Grady half turned toward his fan. The smile on his face had faded at the request. “Ladies.” Grady pointed his water bottle at us. “I’ll be seeing you around. I bought some prime real estate in Little Falls. Looks like we’ll be neighbors.” He backed away from us and then trailed the woman to her group.

“Neighbors?” Lila squeaked out. “Grady Castillo is coming back to Little Falls for good?”

That’s what it sounded like. My heart thumped wildly in response. Did that mean I’d have to see him all the time?

Turns out I definitely needed that drink after all.