Page 54 of Our Sadie

Once I’ve worked out on my pole and showered, I find Maxine in the kitchen. She’s been with Sadie for a long time, right? Maybe she’ll be willing to divulge more about her. But I can’t just gossip behind Sadie’s back. I’ll have to be casual about this particular conversation.

“You stay here during the weekdays, don’t you?” I ask her after our customary greeting, and her reply is to raise an eyebrow behind her glasses. “Ever noticed anything odd?”

“Odd in what manner?”

“Anything. Seems pretty tranquil out here mostly.”

“It is.”

Shit. It’s like pulling teeth from this woman.

I don’t want to come right out and admit that the three of us have been researching Sadie and discovered the crash that killed her parents or that she has nocturnal sleeping habits that could be a concern. Maxine might’ve known her parents. Now that I think about it, I’m almost sure that she did.

But if I start prying into that, she could inform Sadie, and I don’t want her to think my motive is to nose around in her highly private life.

“Does the chalet have Christmas decorations?” I steer the subject into more sedate waters as the house manager prepares bacon and eggs on the cook surfaces she’s prepared. The sizzling sound is homey, and the smell is making my stomach growl like a beast.

“Why, yes. Of course. Years ago, every inch of this place would be alight.”

“Think we could do it this year? Sadie mentioned that she celebrates the holiday.”

Maxine straightens and places all her attention on me. “Did she now? Did she really?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

“You don’t know how happy that makes me to hear.” She flips over each piece of food. “After breakfast, I’ll take you round and show you where it all is.”

Sadie’s still asleep when the guys and I follow the house manager around and collect items to put on display. To make sure Sadie’s only involved in the stuff that’s the most fun, we do things like assemble the three trees—one’s on the first floor, one’s on the second, and one’s outside by the circle drive—and hang the evergreen boughs in high places.

Yet once she sees what we’ve done, she doesn’t thank us, nor does she seem overly enthused. My hopes that she’ll find this something to look forward to are dashed.

“If you’re not into this, we can trade activities,” Jerome tells her.

“We could go outside and do some exploring,” Dom says. “There’s all this fresh powder this morning so we could build a snowman instead.”

I glance over at the deep-voiced dude in surprise. It’s such a kid-like endeavor.

But Sadie vetoes it. “It’s too cold.”

It’s been cold since we arrived here, though.

“You under the weather?” I ask her, but she absently shakes her head. I’m not sure that I believe her.

“Let’s go ahead and decorate,” she insists, so we proceed.

After a protracted stretch of time stringing lights, hanging ornaments, and securing glittery stuff to lots of places, we have maybe a third of the chalet done. Still, while Sadie’s participating, her efforts seem half-hearted unless we ask her about it. Then, she picks up her pace.

I’m not sure if she loves this or not, but after seeing how thrilled the house manager was to have the decorations out, I’m bound to finish them. I take one last glance at what we’ve accomplished before lumbering off to bed, my limbs heavy from all the work we did today. At least it was fulfilling.

I slip into a doze hoping Sadie will be more into it tomorrow.

Maybe that’s why it’s so horrifying to stir awake to the sounds of glass shattering in the middle of the night. In nothing but my boxer briefs, I sprint from my room to the top of the stairs, seizing that globe of dried flowers to use as a weapon in case someone’s breaking in. Jerome is right behind me with Dom coming over to us next, each of us trying to ascertain what’s happening.

“We being robbed?” Dom asks in that deep voice of his.

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I can’t see much.”

But then, something else crashes downstairs, putting us all on alert. That’s when I catch sight of Maxine materializing from the opposite wing of the first floor, all wrapped up in a fleece-lined robe and lifting a baseball bat. Scared she might get hurt from whatever evildoer might be down there, I tromp down the stairs to warn her off.

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