Page 45 of Rival Hearts

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 spacebetween 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. “Idon’twrite 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.

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