Page 84 of Double Fault

I slip out, and once the door is shut behind me, I lean back against it and close my eyes.

I’m so fucked.

CHAPTER 23

SABRINA

Ahead of Wimbledon,we land in London for the cinch Championship. The awe that hit me in Monaco has yet to dwindle.

On the other side of the car, Noah stares at his phone, not taking in a single sight. He’s probably seen them all before, but still, I can’t imagine ever tiring of the view of such historic and significant structures everywhere I look. Even Maddie seems unfazed, playing a game on her Nintendo Switch, with her teddy bear clasped under one arm.

I frown at the two Bakers.

“You guys.”

Maddie looks up from her game but quickly looks back down. Noah is too busy typing, his brow furrowed like he’s pissed off, to even acknowledge me.

“Look out the window.” I tap on the glass. “It’s London!”

“I’ve seen it before,” Maddie says, attention glued firmly to the screen. “It’s nothing new.”

Noah taps his phone screen a couple more times, then tucks the device away. “Sabrina’s right, Mads. Take a look around.”

With a dramatic sigh more befitting a teenager than an eight-year-old, she turns the Switch off.

“Happy now?” she says, peering up at her dad.

“Immensely, but watch the tone.” He tugs on her braid.

She giggles, lightness entering her eyes once more. Sometimes I forget that this little girl lost her mother and is still struggling to navigate the complexities of grief. Adults often don’t handle the pain of loss all that well, so why should a child be expected to always be bright and happy?

“I was reading about how much the British love tea,” I tell Maddie. “I thought maybe the two of us could have a tea service while we’re here. What do you think?”

The way her eyes instantly light up makes me glad that I offered. “That could be fun.”

“Good.” I smile. “I might have trouble making a reservation, so don’t get your hopes up too high. From what I’ve been reading, I should have called a couple of weeks ago to get into one of the really great places, but I’ll try.”

With a flick of his wrist, Noah mutters, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” He pulls his phone out again, shoots off a message, then taps the button to darken the screen.

A thrill shoots through me. “Look at you, Mr. Fancy Pants.”

Chuckling, he rubs a hand over his stubbled jaw. I like when he lets it grow out like this. Not that I’d tell him that. We might’ve had sex, but I have no say over what he does. Even if I do love to rib him now and then.

I learned in the past not to assume that sex equates to anything more than a purely physical encounter. It’s only ever led to disappointment. It took time, but over the last year or so, I’ve come to terms with the idea of having casual sex. The act itself feels good, and there’s nothing wrong with allowing myself to enjoy it every now and then.

“Being rich does have its perks.”

Head cocked, I glare at him. “Rub it in.”

Once we’re checked in, Maddie, with her pink glittery backpack on her shoulders and her teddy bear tucked under her arm—I love that she keeps that thing so close—leads the way to the elevator.

Noah holds a key card out to me, then a second one. I survey them both as we stop at the elevator bank.

“My own room?”

He hides a smile by rubbing his jaw. “It’s not what you think. There weren’t any adequate suites available, so my assistant put us in adjoining rooms.”

“You have an assistant?” I frown. Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?

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