Page 42 of Double Fault

She lets go of me and absentmindedly plays with the end of her braid. “I hope so. He seems tired.”

Thinking maybe she needs a distraction, I slide the paper back in front of her. “This is the last of schoolwork for the day. When you’re finished, we can go get ice cream.”

Eyes going wide, she perks up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Frankly, I need the ice cream just as badly as she does. My period started yesterday, and my desire for something sweet is all-consuming.

Thirty minutes later, I’m organizing her school supplies while she hustles upstairs to change into something “cuter.” Her words, not mine.

I’ve just stacked all her work in a neat pile when Noah appears, sweaty and exhausted and slightly aggravated. Fisher trails behind him, rambling on and using words that make no sense to my tennis-incompetent brain.

Noah grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and takes careful sips.

“I know,” he snaps at Fisher. “I’m working on it.” He turns then and gives me a once-over. “Where’s Maddie?”

“Changing. We’re going out for ice cream.”

A single dark brow rises up his forehead. “Ice cream?”

“Yeah”—I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans—“she’s having a rough day, so I said I’d take her after she finished her work.”

He cocks his head to the side, his lips turning down. “Why’s she having a bad day?”

Fuck. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. Yes, Noah is my boss and her father, but I don’t want to betray her trust.

I slide onto my stool again. “That’s something you’d have to talk to her about.”

His eyes narrow, probably because he wants to argue with me. Before he can, though, Fisher launches back into a lecture involving a bunch of tennis-related terminology.

Noah stalks off, heading toward the stairs to get away from him. Before he disappears completely, though, he calls out, “I’ll go with you guys.”

“Huh?” I hop to my feet again.

He turns on his heel and pins me with a look. “I’ll go with you. For ice cream.”

“Oh. Okay.” I figured he was too busy to bother. Otherwise I would have invited him.

“I have to shower first.” With that, he’s gone.

Fisher grumbles an obscenity under his breath, head shaking, then turns to me. “See you later, Sabrina.”

Shortly after he leaves, Maddie bounds down the steps. “I’m ready!”

She hurries into the kitchen, practically skipping, dressed in a pair of jeans and a light blue sweater. She took her hair out of its braid so it hangs in waves and?—

“Did you put makeup on?”

The girl is only eight. That seems young to be wearing makeup.

Blushing, she bites her bottom lip. Her front left tooth is loose, but not quite ready to come out. “Don’t tell my dad.”

I rest my cheek on my fist and lean forward. “Bad news, girlfriend—he’s coming with us.”

Her eyes widen in horror. “What? Why did you invite him?” Her bottom lip trembles.

“He invited himself.”

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