17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Maggie
W e were four weeks into planning the concert and strip show, and Lila and I needed to get the promotional materials pumping out to fill the venue. The lineup was good enough, thanks to Grady, so selling tickets wouldn’t be an issue.
Lila had offered to meet with him today to get all the details, so I wouldn’t have to face him, but I declined.
After my confrontation with Grady, the fumes of my anger had carried me through to the end of the workday. I’d grabbed a bottle of wine and showed up at Lila’s house where we’d spent the evening commiserating.
I didn’t want Grady to know the Sabrina debacle had driven a stake through my heart. Going to this meeting with him, alone, was the only way to prove to him and to myself that I could control my feelings. This roller-coaster ride was coming to an end; I was throwing on the brakes.
In the doorway of the conference room, he cleared his throat. I looked up from the papers spread out in front of me, startled out of my thoughts. He was dressed in worn jeans and a T-shirt, and I could imagine the buttery slide of the gray material under my fingers if I were to run my hands down his chest.
No butter. No sliding. No fingers. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want him.
He’d been in the doorway for thirty seconds, and I was already fighting the urge to climb aboard the coaster to ride it one more time.
Why couldn’t he be repulsive? Or be one of those people who I could admit was attractive without wanting to explore the package under his clothes? That’s what I needed—objective indifference. Grady was attractive, with his messy brown hair, dark-brown eyes, and tan skin, but I wasn’t attracted to him. Well-sculpted muscles were a great asset for a man to have. Objectively speaking, it meant he took care of his body. I could admire that without admiring him. There. Easy.
“Are you ready for me?”
My heart dropped into my feet at his words. “Oh, uh—” I stumbled around, shuffling the papers, not seeing anything. Heat climbed into my face. This was a disaster. I was a disaster. “Sorry, I’m—”
He came around the conference table, his shoulder brushing mine, and helped me sort the papers. They’d been in order, but in my fluster, I’d messed them up. So stupid.
“You okay?” Grady checked page numbers and headers without looking at me.
My hands stilled on the table. “I’m sorry I overreacted about Sabrina.” Those words hadn’t been what I’d planned to say to him. I’d intended to ignore the whole thing, pretend it hadn’t happened.
“Thanks for leaving Mike out of it.” He ran a hand through his hair.
When I snuck a glance at him, he tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, tenderness in his gaze. The touch was so intimate, so unexpected, it caused warmth to pool in places it shouldn’t. He’d done something similar to me before, but it was his lack of hesitation which surprised me, as though he had a right to touch me. My body hummed in anticipation.
“I feel like I should explain what was going on—”
I shook my head and grabbed more papers. “No. You don’t owe me any explanation. We’re rivals for the mayoral race, and we’re working together to help the town, to help Trent. That’s it.” My heart thumped in my chest, betraying how much I wished he’d explain. Did it mean he hadn’t slept with her? Why was she there so early if that was the case? The objectivity I’d been clinging to before he stepped in the door was beating against the windows, threatening to fly out of the room. More than anything, I wanted Sabrina to be a misunderstanding.
He tried to catch my gaze, but I sidestepped him and turned on the projector to go through my PowerPoint presentation. As soon as he realized what I was doing, he lowered himself into a chair and started chuckling.
“You’re going to present to me?” He crossed his arms over his toned middle, and I averted my gaze.
“It seemed like the easiest way to get you up to speed on what the night will look like.”
“Whatever you think. I’m your captive audience.”
I clicked through the slides, explaining what everyone else had been able to accomplish in the last four weeks. The material was dry, and I was fairly certain he didn’t care, but it created some distance between us, which made me more comfortable.
At the end, he clapped. “That’s great. Really great, Maggie. You’ve thought of everything—even better than some of the concert organizers I’ve worked with professionally.”
Pride spread through me at his words. I couldn’t hold back my grin as I tucked my hair behind my ears. “Really? That means a lot, actually. It’s been a huge project to undertake, and sometimes I’ve wondered why I agreed to do this for Trent...”
He held up his finger. “There’s just one thing.”
I raised my eyebrows. What had I forgotten?
“I feel like some parts of the night might need a demonstration for me to appreciate the full impact.” He stared at me expectantly, a small smirk on his face.
I frowned and then his implication clicked. “I’m not stripping for you.”
“It would really liven up your presentation. Give it some authenticity.”
“The only person I’m giving it to is you.”
Our eyes connected, and my breath caught. Why was it always like this with him? My pulse quickened, and a flush rose to my cheeks.
He wanted me to strip for him. His desire should horrify me, but it didn’t, not even close. What would he do if I did it?
“I’d watch the whole thing again, if you wanted to go for a different tactic. A small sample of what I could expect on the night as if you were one of the male performers.” His voice rumbled through the room, husky with undisguised need.
A knock on the door made us both start.
Ruth poked her head in. “Sorry to interrupt. Here’s the rest of the paperwork you were after, Maggie.”
“Oh, right.” I crossed to the door, fighting gratitude and exasperation at the interruption. Nothing would have happened between us in the conference room. He’d slept with Sabrina Kim, hadn’t he? Clearly, any warm body would do. I didn’t want him or his drama. “Thanks.”
He rose from his seat and wandered around the table to stand near me. The scent of his cologne and the distinctive smell of wintergreen wafted closer, circling around, testing my resolve. We were in a conference room at city hall for God’s sake. I needed to pull myself together.
“So.” I took the opposite side, far from him. “Tell me about these people you have coming.” I’d gotten the basics from Kelvin. Some of the names had been significant, while others were unknown. Lila and I needed to know how to market his musical connections and their talents.
He reached into his back pocket, his T-shirt stretching across his chest, the bottom riding up, so a glimpse of skin made my pulse skyrocket. I should have let Lila do this meeting. Why hadn’t I just swallowed my pride and let Lila do this? Whether he knew it or not, my insides were acting like a bloody fool every time he moved.
From his pocket, a folded piece of paper emerged. He smoothed it out and tossed it across the table. “I made some notes.”
I scanned the list of ten or twelve names. At the bottom, there was a new name added. “Mia Malone?” I glanced up, and Grady shifted uncomfortably.
“Part of a contract I signed with her. Subcontract asked her to perform something at a benefit of my choosing.”
“She’s huge right now.”
He nodded but didn’t elaborate.
“What kind of contract would you be signing with Mia Malone?” I raised my eyebrows and set the paper on the table.
His gaze connected with mine across the space between us, drawing me in despite my desire to stay distant. There was a moment of hesitation before he confessed, “I’m one of the songwriters on her next album.”
“Oh,” she whispered. “So, that’s why you don’t make money off your voice anymore. Do you do that a lot? Write songs for people?” The memory of sitting beside Grady on his bed, lost in the thrall of his creative process, rose up, filling the space between us. I could watch him do that every day of my life and never tire of the experience.
“I seem to be good at it.” He gave me a small grin. “Pays the bills.” He shrugged. “My old label asked me to consider producing a few up-and-comers.”
“Where would you do that?” The thought of him leaving caused my stomach to twist in knots. No one believed he’d stay. It shouldn’t be a surprise. That knowledge didn’t stop the ache from coming.
“We’re just talking about it. Nothing firm yet. It’s a great opportunity for me. Something I’ve always been interested in. A step up. We’ll see.” He came around the table and took the list. With a hint of pride, he pointed to a few other well-known names. “Written songs for all of them.”
I stared into his warm, brown eyes and felt myself slipping. He was being uncharacteristically open. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like we were on even footing, not in danger of bursting into an argument. A match to a can of gas. Instead, we felt like still, deep water, the kind you didn’t just dip a toe into but rather the sort made for drowning.
“Even while you did all that traveling?” I remembered hearing about the places he’d visited. I hadn’t been able to stay away from the Castillo family. I’d visited Penny, their mother, whenever I’d come back from college. After Trent got out and I returned to Little Falls, Penny was so used to my company we met for coffee once a week. I didn’t think Grady knew. Trent did, but he wasn’t worried. He knew I’d keep his secrets.
“Technology is an amazing thing.” His lips quirked up into an almost smile.
“You don’t write for yourself? Just other people?”
He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “Would you believe I can’t?”
“You can’t write for yourself?”
With a shake of his head, he grimaced. “Forget I said that. I shouldn’t have said that.” A chuckle escaped, and he rolled his shoulders. “I don’t write for myself anymore.”
I ran a hand down his arm, and I almost sighed at the solid feel of him under my fingertips. “I used to love listening to you write.”
His thumb grazed my cheek. “I only know about one time.”
Heat swept through my body at the memory. There had been a first that night, but listening to him hadn’t been it. I shook my head, lost in the thrall of being this close, his calloused hands on me.
“How do you think I knew you were doing it? I’d stand outside the garage door, outside your bedroom door. Sometimes I came to the house, hoping you’d be so lost in your own world you wouldn’t know I was around.”
Surprise lit his eyes. “I had no idea.”
I’d wondered if he’d sensed me lurking around a corner, just out of sight. His ignorance made me happy and sad at the same time. I’d been so deeply, so keenly aware of him. The idea he hadn’t been as attuned made me wish I’d have revealed myself. Would it have changed the outcome? He was four years older than me, and back then, that was a lot. Older, wiser, far more experienced. Had I been able to overcome those things, the agreement between me and Trent would have sealed our fates anyway.
“I wish I’d known,” he said, reading my thoughts.
“Do you?” I whispered, my gaze straying to his lips. I wanted to forget about everything else and sink into the depths of this desire.
He cupped my cheek, and I leaned into his hand. “No, I’m glad I didn’t know. You were with Trent. I already feel shitty enough about what happened.”
The truth bubbled up my throat. I could confess, tell him what had really been going on. Embarrassing, but maybe that was better than this. The cost would be Trent’s trust, perhaps even our friendship.
And for what?
Sabrina’s voice calling him back to bed the other morning sprang up between us. He was toying with me, and I was letting him. Playing games.
Don’t be foolish .
Scanning his face one last time, I stepped back and picked up his sheet of scrawled notes. “I’ll grab my laptop, and we can chat about these people and what they do.”
“Are you ever going to tell me the truth, Maggie?”
Silence stretched between us while I considered ignoring his question. “I don’t know why it matters anymore.” I averted my eyes. “It was a long time ago. We aren’t the same people.” Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze.
“I betrayed my brother, and you act like what happened wasn’t a big deal. You said you’d help me get him back.” He sliced a frustrated hand through the air. “So, yeah, it matters. If the truth means I didn’t do what I think I did, then it matters. A hell of a lot.”
I searched his face, indecision warring in me. Perhaps I could tell him a little, enough to make him understand. I swallowed. “We had an agreement. We weren’t dating, not really. People thought we were. We let people believe that for a few reasons. But we were never dating.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”
“That’s not the whole truth, but I can’t give you more. I can’t betray his trust.”
“I saw you two—you kissed, you held hands. That’s not—it wasn’t fake.”
My palms were clammy. “When you decide to lie about something, you have to commit to the lie. It was important your mom thought we were dating.” I gave him a helpless look. “I can’t. God, Grady. He’d be so angry with me. I can’t say any more. If you want the rest, you ask him.”
“When we slept together—”
“I didn’t cheat on him. Not in the conventional sense, anyway.”
“But I didn’t know that…” He searched my face, his brown eyes assessing. “If we hadn’t gotten the call he’d been arrested, would you have told me everything?”
“Everything has never been mine to tell. Back then, I needed him, and he needed me.”
“Why?”
I gathered the papers and put his handwritten notes on top. “I’ll get Lila to connect with you about the rest of this list.”
“Tell me why, Maggie.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, but I kept my head down and continued tidying up. “If that was what was holding you back from being a real brother, you can rest assured he wouldn’t have cared.”
“Maggie.” His voice was pleading.
I swept away the tears trickling down my cheeks. “Lila will call you.” I opened the conference room door and retreated down the hall to my office.
As I set the stack of papers on my desk, my hands shook. I stared at them, wondering if I’d done the right thing.
Would that satisfy him, or would that small confession only make things worse?