Page 7 of Heart Beats

Apparently, the current buzz of activity on my phone isn’t about last night’s five minutes of fame. It’s abouttoday. About what’s happeningright now, on Main Street of Hope Harbor.

Jagger is in town, at Mya’s store. Just like he said he would be. And he’s asking about me.

“Holy shit!” My excited scream cuts the silence in my little house. Okay, maybe I’m not a totally cool cucumber about last night’s events. What woman wouldn’t daydream a little if Jagger Marsh chose her to join him onstage for a romantic rock ballad? The man is the personification of sexy swoon.

And now he’s in town.

Did he actually come to see me? Of course not. He came to keep his promise to the fans.

A promise he only made after choosing me to go onstage. After calling out to my sister for more information about me.

Holy shit, he might have come here for me.

Or, I might be an idiot for even thinking it.

There’s only one way to know for sure. The question is… Am I willing to exit my comfort zone—again—and get my butt down there to find out?

three

jagger

I challengedthe crowd to buy everything in Mya’s store, and they came damn close. By the time she closes the door behind the last straggler, there are more bare racks than product in the small shop. Unfortunately, there’s no beautiful brunette named Maria occupying any of the newly freed-up space.

“You mind if I slip out the back?” I ask, hooking a thumb toward the rear of the building. No point in delaying the inevitable.

“Of course. Yeah. Let me stick my head out there and make sure the coast is clear. Don’t want any crazy, starstruck locals harassing you in the delivery lane.”

I shake my head, motioning for her to continue with whatever tallying she’s working on at her computer. “I’m sure I can handle whatever’s out there. What about you? Want me to stick around and make sure nobody robs you?”

“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.”

“Because it’s small-town Canada, and crime doesn’t happen here?”

Not for the first time today, her laugh reminds me of Maria’s. “There’s some crime, but not much, and rarely violent. But my best friend and her burly fella are on their way over, just to be on the safe side. Your special appearance and bribery made this the best single day I’ve had since moving back to town and opening the store. I do all right, but today’s sales definitely help pad the savings. I can’t thank you enough.”

“No thanks required. This is the first time in years I’ve done casual drop-in stuff. I’d forgotten what a good time it is.” I nod a goodbye, then turn, but only take a couple of strides before Mya catches up to me.

“I saved this one specifically for you,” she says, tossing a t-shirt over my left shoulder.

Stopped near the stockroom doorway, I hold the black shirt up to check out its screen-printed design. This one’s a white-and-red abstract, but there’s definitely a music theme, even though it’s subtle. “This is awesome. You’re really talented.”

“Thank you. I don’t sell a lot of this one because it’s not a ‘to-market’ piece, but it’s a favorite of mine because my sister inspired it.”

“Maria?” I ask, inspecting the design with renewed purpose.

“Yup. She’s the only one I have. On the subject of my absent sibling who doesn’t take big-sisterly advice…” Mya sticks out one hand, offering a folded piece of paper. “This is her phone number, address, and a little map of how to get there. If you’re interested, which I think you are, even though you were a surprisingly well-mannered famous rock star, and didn’t ask once.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely interested.” I open the paper to make sure I can read the handwriting, then meet Mya’s gaze. “Thank you for this. I promise you I’m not in town to stalk, use, or mistreat your sister in any way. I can’t explain it, but I need to know her. There’s something about her that’s special. Different.”

“You’re right on both counts,” Mya says, motioning toward the rear of the store. “Go find her and don’t let her send you away. She might not make it easy for you, but she’s worth the effort, trust me.”

It’s an unnecessary sales pitch and a promise I don’t have to make aloud to know I’m going to keep. Paper safely in hand, I raise my hand in a part thanks, part farewell gesture, then I’m on my way to find the muse I wasn’t looking for, but can’t stop thinking about.

* * *

maria

Chiming drifts into the kitchen from the front doorbell. Another “friend just stopping by?” Please. Just because I’m not a social butterfly doesn’t mean I’m a social moron. I don’t have friends whojust stop by. Even my family members know better than tojust stop by. I’m not a spontaneous person, and I value my privacy. The people who’ve dropped by today knowwhoI am, but they don’t know me. They’re not my friends.

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