Falling for the Wrong Brother Read online

  A group, unfortunately, led by her grandmother.

  “The flags stay,” Maggie said, gripping the back of the chair in front of her. “As long as Joellyn wants them hanging. What she does on her porch is none of our business.”

  Her grandmother raised a brow as the other members of the historical society shifted in their chairs or busied themselves with the paperwork in front of them. “This is our town,” Vivian countered. “We have a duty to uphold the standards people expect from Stonecreek.”

  Maggie shook her head. “The town belongs to everyone who lives here. Diversity—even in decorating porches—is a good thing, Grammy. We want people to feel welcome here.”

  “The right people,” Henry Simon added.

  Maggie leveled a look at him and said slowly, “All people.”

  “Verbal shank,” Morgan whispered behind her. “Nice one.”

  “What’s this about, Maggie?”

  “I’m up for reelection this year,” Maggie answered. “I need to make sure I’m representing the voters to the best of my ability.”

  “You need to be certain,” her grandma insisted, “that you aren’t making additional enemies around town. I’ve been doing my best to shore up the holes in your reputation, dear, but you aren’t making it easy.”

  “This isn’t about my personal life.”

  Grammy smiled. “It’s always personal.”

  “Which brings us to the point of my visit.” Maggie inclined her head. “I heard that you delivered a cease and desist letter to Harvest Vineyards.”

  “I didn’t deliver it personally,” Grammy said sweetly.

  “We had Roger from the building department take it over,” Lucy offered. “Seemed more official that way.”

  “You have no jurisdiction over the Stones’ property.”

  Henry raised a gnarled finger. “We do, actually. Dave Stone applied for historic status on several of the structures about a year before he died. He wanted the tax breaks and funding that the state offers.”

  “The tasting room was included in that,” Lucy added.

  “I’ve been out there,” Maggie said. “Griffin’s renovation is fixing the damage from the fire and improving the space. They’ll be able to do more events and wine tours. It’ll be good for the economy.”

  “Good for Harvest’s bottom line, you mean.” Vivian pulled out a three-ring binder from the stack of papers in front of her. “Jana Stone has been talking to people about hosting wedding receptions.”

  “So what?”

  “That will directly impact the reception room here.”

  “There are plenty of weddings to go around,” Maggie insisted.

  “You don’t know that. These tours and wine groups you’re talking about bring revenue to Harvest, not the town.”

  “They use local caterers to provide food.”

  “Have you seen the plans for the second phase of construction at the vineyard?” Vivian opened the binder and flipped through several pages. “She wants to open a farm-to-table restaurant and a series of cottages.”

  “None of that is bad.” Maggie turned to her sister. “Have you heard anything in this conversation that sounds dire for the town?”

  Morgan made a show of pulling a stick of gum from her purse, unwrapping it and then popping it into her mouth. “It all sounds great to me.”

  “It will give them too much power,” Vivian said, while the others at the table nodded. “Jana Stone will throw her money around like some sort of benevolent goddess but it will all be on her terms.”

  “Like the grant for the community center,” Lucy said, nodding enthusiastically. “I heard she’s going to rescind the money until after the election and then give it only if Jason wins.”

  Vivian sighed. “That’s what I’m talking about. Maggie, in a town like Stonecreek and a public office like the one you hold, there is no such thing as a personal life. If the Stones want to giveth and taketh away their largesse, we need to show them there can be consequences on both sides.”

  “We aren’t the Mayberry mafia.” Maggie thumped her hand on the back of the chair, feeling like she’d entered some sort of alternate universe where her grammy was playing the part of a mafiosa. “Has anyone talked to Jana?”

  The historical society members, even her grandmother, shook their heads. “Where did you hear about her rescinding the grant money?”

  Lucy sat forward. “My daughter’s best friend heard it from someone in her mommy-and-me group who goes to yoga class with Jason Stone’s wife.”

  “That’s like a bad game of telephone. I’ll call Jana.”

  “You can’t call Jana,” Lucy said quickly. “If you call, then she’ll know we’ve been talking about her and—”

  “That will give her the upper hand,” Vivian finished.

  “Your logic is ridiculous,” Maggie muttered.

  Her grandmother pointed. “Watch your tone, young lady.”

  “Grammy, I’m sorry. This is silly. You need to tell Griffin he can go back to work on the tasting room.”

  “We have rules,” Henry explained.

  “You gave us this power,” Vivian reminded her.

  “Then I’ll find a way to take it back. It’s not right.”

  Lucy mumbled something under her breath.

  “Oh, man,” Morgan whispered.

  Maggie leaned forward, zeroing her gaze on the petite woman. “What did you say?”

  “I don’t think any of this would be an issue if you’d married Trevor.” Lucy threw up her hands when Grammy groaned. “Don’t act like that, Vivi. We all know it’s true. Now she’s cavorting with the other one and no one knows what to think.”

  “You don’t have to think anything,” Maggie said through clenched teeth. “It’s my private life.”

  “The order has been delivered,” her grandmother said, making it clear from her tone that this was the end of the conversation.

  Maggie felt her mouth drop open. She was the mayor of Stonecreek yet here she was being dismissed like a child at the grown-up dinner table. She wanted to scream, but that wasn’t done with her grandmother.

  She owed Grammy respect and loved her more than words, but she wasn’t going to be a puppet for anyone—even the woman who meant the most to her in the world.

  “Is there something else you need from us, Maggie?”

  “No,” she said then turned and stalked away without another word.

  * * *

  That afternoon Brenna walked into the crowded coffee shop, scanning the tables until she found Maggie at one of the booths in the back.

  With a deep breath, she moved forward, hands clasped tightly in front of her stomach. Maggie’s text had been cryptic.

  I need to see you. Cuppa Joe at 1.

  Brenna hadn’t hesitated. She’d left a note on her computer at the Harvest office saying she was taking a late lunch and driven toward downtown Stonecreek. Although now she wasn’t sure if meeting Maggie in such a public location was a good idea. She could have decided to publicly humiliate Brenna the way she’d been embarrassed at suddenly learning of Trevor’s cheating.

  Brenna shook her head. It didn’t matter. As Marcus regularly reminded her, she’d made a mistake. That didn’t make her a horrible person.

  “Hey,” she said, sliding into the booth.

  “Did you order a cappuccino?” Maggie asked, scowling at Brenna’s empty hands.

  “I’m too nervous for caffeine,” Brenna said with a shaky laugh. “I’ll get something after.”

  “Nervous?”

  “Your summons was kind of abrupt,” Brenna admitted.

  Maggie sighed and pressed two fingers to her temple. “I’m sorry. I’m upset, but it has nothing to do with you. I just needed a friend and...”

  “You called me?” Brenna felt her mouth widen into a
huge grin. “That’s so great.”

  “That I’m upset?” Maggie asked with a wry smile.

  “Stop. I’m so glad you called me. You never have to apologize for anything. After what I did—”

  Maggie held up a hand. “I get that you regret not telling me, but I don’t want to keep reliving that moment, okay? I feel like that day is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

  “I understand.” Maybe Marcus was right and things would work out in the end. It was odd how quickly he’d become an integral part of her life. Between seeing him at the office, and the time he spent with her and Ellie, the soft-spoken vintner filled a hole in her heart she didn’t even realize was there.

  Now to have Maggie back... Well, Brenna couldn’t remember a time she’d felt so happy. But she focused on her friend, noting Maggie’s red-rimmed eyes and pasty complexion. “What’s going on, sweetie?”

  “Am I a pushover?” Maggie asked.

  “No,” Brenna answered automatically, mainly because she knew that was what her friend wanted to hear.

  “Are you sure?”

  Brenna thought about some of the late-night conversations she’d had with Marcus. He was always supportive when she talked about her worries and fears, but he never coddled her. Sometimes his straightforward opinion was tough to hear, but she appreciated the honesty.

  “You can be,” she admitted, then quickly added, “It’s because you try to make everyone happy.”

  “Everyone but myself,” Maggie said quietly. She thumped her head against the table. “How did I let this happen?”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong.” Brenna reached out a hand to stroke the back of Maggie’s head. “You’re a good person. This town respects you.”

  “Do people think I’m a mouthpiece for my grandma or my family in general?” Maggie lifted her head, narrowing her eyes. “That the only thing I care about is advancing my family?”

  “They know it’s not the only thing you care about.” Brenna broke off a corner of the scone on Maggie’s plate and popped it into her mouth.

  “Have the rest.” Maggie pushed the plate forward. “I’m too sick of myself to eat.”

  “Where is this coming from? I don’t think it’s been a secret that you support your family. The Spencers are an institution around here. You’re not a mouthpiece as much as a spokesperson.”

  Maggie shook her head. “I’m everyone’s mayor. I’m supposed to represent all the town, not just my little slice of it.”

  “You do.”

  “What about the Stones?”

  Brenna made a face. “That’s more complicated.” She plucked another bite of scone. “Is the rumor about you and Griffin true?”

  “Where’d you hear it?”

  “Come on. This is Stonecreek. Where haven’t I heard it?”

  “It’s new and we’ve been keeping a low profile,” Maggie said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “I know how that goes.” She shook her head when Maggie blinked. “Forget I said anything. This is about you.”

  “Distract me. Make it about you instead.”

  Maggie split the remaining scone in half and took a big bite. Brenna didn’t want to talk about Marcus, but Maggie seemed genuinely interested and at least she was eating.

  “I’ve been hanging out with Marcus Sanchez a little.” She raised her brows. “More like a lot.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened, clearly in shock, before she schooled her features. “He’s a great guy.”

  “You think he’s too good for me.” Brenna wiped her hands on a napkin, the pastry sitting like a brick in her stomach.

  “Not at all,” Maggie said quickly, “but he’s not exactly your type.”

  “We’re friends. Nothing else has happened. We talk, and Ellie loves him.”

  “You’ve introduced him to Ellie?”

  “Yes. Is that bad? I know I usually shield her from the men I’m dating...but I’m not really dating Marcus.”

  “But you want to,” Maggie suggested.

  “Like I said, he’s too good for me.”

  “He’s perfect.” Maggie reached forward and took Brenna’s hands. “You deserve someone like him in your life.”

  “You’re a great mayor.” Brenna squeezed her friend’s fingers. “Not because of your grandma but because you’re smart and hardworking and you care about this town. If you want to start doing things differently, that’s your choice. No one else’s.”

  “I’ve missed you,” Maggie said quietly.

  “Me, too.”

  Her phone buzzed and she quickly pulled it out of her purse. “It’s Ellie’s school.”

  “Go ahead,” Maggie said, sitting back against the booth.

  Brenna held the phone up to her ear and answered.

  “Brenna,” the voice on the other end of the line said, “it’s Denise in the front office. Ellie got sick on the way to music class a few minutes ago. She’s with the nurse and isn’t feeling too good.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Brenna answered, already moving out of the booth. “Thanks for the call.” She hit the end-call button. “I hate to cut this short but Ellie threw up at school.”

  “Oh, no. Poor thing. Puking at school is the worst.” Maggie scooted out of the booth as well, and gave Brenna a quick hug. “I’ll call you later to check on her.”

  “Don’t doubt yourself,” Brenna told her friend. “You’ve got this.”

  Maggie flashed a grateful smile. “We both do.”

  Brenna could only hope that was true.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Griffin’s not here.”

  Maggie shielded her eyes against the afternoon sun as she approached the rustic farmhouse on the Harvest Vineyards property. The front of the home was cast in shadow, but she saw a figure rise from a chair on the far end of the porch.

  “He went into town,” Jana continued, “to meet with Roger at the building department and try to straighten out the mess your vindictive grandmother and her group of cronies left us in.”

  “I’m here to talk to you,” Maggie said simply, deciding it best to ignore the comment about her grammy.

  Jana walked to the top of the porch steps. “And which one of my sons do you want to talk about?” she asked, her tone crisp and a little tart, like the first bite of a fall apple.

  “I’d like to speak to you regarding your grant for the community center.”

  “Ah. Of course.” Jana sniffed as if she’d just taken a whiff of something unpleasant. “Priorities and all that.”

  Claws out, Maggie thought. Good to know going in. She and her former mother-in-law-to-be had never been particularly close. Maggie had gotten the impression Jana didn’t approve of her, although she couldn’t have been certain of the reason. Trevor told her she was being paranoid, and while Jana was never outright rude, she kept her distance no matter how much Maggie tried to connect with her.

  Clearly, Jana no longer felt the need to keep up the pretense of civility. So be it. Maggie knew now she could deal with much worse.

  “Do you have a few minutes?”

  Jana inclined her head and leveled Maggie with a stare that weeks ago would have made her knees knock. Lately she’d become rather skilled at tolerating glares.

  “If now doesn’t work, we could set up a time next week. Either here or at my office.”

  “Now is fine.”

  Maggie followed Jana to the cozy seating area at the far end of the porch. A wrought iron love seat with thick cushions was arranged next to two wicker chairs and an iron table in the middle.

  “Would you like a glass of iced tea?” Jana asked, polite but cool.

  “No, thanks.” Maggie lowered herself into one of the chairs as Jana took a seat on the love seat. She took a deep breath and said, “First, I wanted to apologize to you f
or the trouble you went through with the wine for the wedding. I’m sure you were upset that—”

  “The wine is nothing,” Jana interrupted with a wave of her hand, “compared to how I felt about my son being left at the altar.”

  “Of course,” Maggie agreed automatically. Her decision to take the blame for calling off the wedding was destined to haunt her for all eternity. “I’m sorry for that, too.”

  “Trevor insists it wasn’t your fault. Griffin is even more adamant.”

  Maggie kept her features schooled. “Trevor and I made the decision together.”

  “It’s like there’s something both my boys know but aren’t telling me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Maggie said slowly, trying to figure out how to avoid revealing too much, “for any pain and embarrassment this caused you. It wasn’t my intention.”

  “Truly?” Jana asked almost absently. “Part of me wondered if the last-minute cancellation had been some overarching scheme to humiliate my family.”

  “No,” Maggie breathed.

  “I wouldn’t put it past your grandmother.” Jana’s tone was scathing.

  Maggie opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut again. She thought for a moment about how to answer. “I look like a heartless witch in all this. Grammy is probably as angry with me as you are.”

  “I doubt it,” Jana said but laughed softly. “I want my son to be happy. Both of my sons.”

  Maggie nodded. “You’re a good mother. They’re lucky to have you.”

  “Thank you,” Jana said, her tone gentler. “How are Morgan and Ben?”

  “I thought they were fine,” Maggie admitted with a sigh. “Turns out raising teenagers is harder than I remember from when I was one.”

  “You were different, even before your mom died, but especially after. An old soul.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” Maggie smiled. “I think it’s another way of saying a boring fuddy-duddy.”

  “Not at all.” Jana picked at a loose string on one of the cushions. “Your father’s doing well? I don’t see him around town often.”

  “He’s working a lot lately. He gets pretty focused when he’s sculpting.”