Page 63 of Double Fault

She drops her arm and barks out a laugh. “Is that a joke? Are you actually joking with me?”

I shrug. “I can be funny.”

“Sure.” She draws out the word. “Is that why you’re up lurking in the dark hotel room like some weird vampire? You thought I was off having hot, sweaty sex with Elias?”

My chest seizes painfully in response to those words. “You said you were going to see if he was still up for that date.”

She winces when I dig my thumb a bit too hard into the soft part of her arch.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“I said that because you pissed me off.”

My breath stutters. “You didn’t go out with him?”

Chin lifted, she zeroes in on me. “Nope.”

I study her, considering my next words and knowing I’m going to sound so fucking nosy. “What did you do instead?”

“Well, my boss is an asshole, but he pays me generously, so I tookmyselfout to dinner and then I did a little exploring.”

“This late?”

“It’s possible I hung out in the lobby for an hour or two, hoping you might be up waiting for me to return and thinking I was with Elias.”

My gut clenches. “In other words, you wanted me to suffer?”

“Exactly.” She gives me a wicked smile. “Act like an asshole and I’ll treat you like one.”

“Fair enough,” I grunt.

“I’m glad you understand.” She pulls her feet up from my lap and stands. “Night.”

With a pat on my head, she shuffles away.

Why do I feel like a fucking dog that just got put in its place?

CHAPTER 17

SABRINA

With a coupleof weeks to kill before the Miami Open, we’re at home in Texas, so I’m soaking up all the time I can get with Lucy and Alyssa.

Freshly showered after my run and with an hour before I have to leave for Noah’s house, I tug my laptop out of my bag and sit on my bed to check my email.

As it loads, a bolt of excitement mixed with uncertainty courses through me. The first message in my inbox is from Terri Jaymes. I interviewed in person before the trip to Delray Beach, and until now, I haven’t heard anything. At this point, I’d resigned myself to not getting any type of notification, let alone a job offer.

With a long breath out, I click on the email. As validating as it would be to finally be what an employer is looking for, the idea of leaving Maddie makes me feel ill. That little girl has already weaseled her way into my heart. But I’m not sure I could say no to the kind of job I really want.

Two lines down, it’s apparent I didn’t get the job. Quickly, I shut my laptop, trying to focus more on the relief I feel than the dejection.

It’s easier said than done. At this point, the constant rejections feel personal. Yes, the job market is highly competitive and to even be considered is a privilege, but none of that lessens the sting of not being good enough.

I shove those thoughts from my mind, the best I can at least, and finish getting ready for the day.

Lucy and Alyssa have already left for work by the time I head out, but they’ve a note left on the fridge, promising that there will be lasagna for dinner.

My ancient 4-Runner sits in their driveway like a senior dog waiting for love and attention. Yes, it’s in the driveway, despite my vehemence that it’s better parked on the road so as not to damage their pristine concrete. They never listen.

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