Page 79 of On the Line

On my second night in LA—because of course the situation with my player and the coach’s now-pregnant daughter was more complicated than I was led to believe—the email I’ve been waiting on from Derek finally comes through.

Woody had only been able to give me a first name and a phone number, so I set Derek to work tracking down any available details about Sophia.

Here’s everything I could find on her. Let me know if you need anything else.

The email contains links to all her social media accounts, and pages of attachments showing where she lives and everywhere she’s worked. It takes me about an hour of digging before I’ve pieced together what I think might constitute the story of her and Josh.

It appears that the first time they met in person was two years ago during an event in Whistler, British Columbia. She’s a brand manager for an energy drink company that was one of Josh’s only remaining endorsements before he died, and she’s a big backcountry skier. According to the pictures on her social media account, it looks like they skied together with a big group that week, and many other times over the next couple years.

There are no pictures of the two of them together, they’re always in a group, so it’s impossible to tell if they were together all along or if that was something that happened more recently. But now it’s clear to me why Josh never introduced Lauren to the people he traveled with, or asked her to come on those trips—something I know always bothered her. But I don’t think she ever suspected that it was because he was cheating.

I don’t see anything at all about the house in Brookline, and since Sophia seems to post on social media a lot, it makes me hopeful that she didn’t own any part of it. I know that only Josh’s name was on the deed, otherwise Lauren wouldn’t have been able to get it transferred into her name after his death.

According to Woody, Sophia was the one who had met with him most often about the renovation. Josh was only there for a few of their meetings, though he was the one footing the bill. What I don’t know is whether she had any money tied up in the house, and that feels like it should be an immediate concern here.

Lauren has worked so hard to build a new life for her and her girls in that house, and the thought that Sophia might have any stake in it is unbearable.

I close out of my social media app and rest my head back against the padded headboard of the hotel bed, thinking about how in November, Sophia posted a selfie saying she had the flu and was going to miss out on an epic ski trip to the Pacific Northwest.

So, she was supposed to be there—on the “epic” trip that killed the other seven skiers who went.

The rabbit hole of images and information I just went down has left me famished, and I must have been scrolling for a long time because it’s already dinner time. I contemplate going out somewhere, but I don’t want to be around people right now. Instead, I order room service, then sit there staring at Sophia’s cell phone number that Derek sent.

And that’s when a text from Lauren comes through.

Lauren

Miss you so much, but I’m too tired for a call tonight. I’m going to bed early. I’ll need all my energy for the charity game tomorrow night, and seeing you afterward. Your flight better not be late. If you miss this game, I will kill you.

It’s not even 9:30 p.m. in Boston, so shemustbe exhausted. I know she was at work late tonight making sure everything is in order for the event tomorrow. Since marketing practically runs this event every year, it’s been a huge amount of work for her. But I know she’s feeling really good about it, and it’s great to see her back to being herself—kicking ass at her job, confident about herself, happy. I hate that I hold information that threatens that.

Jameson

I can’t control the airlines, but I’m taking the earliest flight possible. I’ll be back in Boston midafternoon.

And I miss you too, and can’t wait to see you. And touch you. And taste you. Go get some sleep so you’re well rested tomorrow. I plan on keeping you up all night.

Lauren

Not me, already in bed imagining you here with me ...

Jameson

Not me, with my thumb hovering over the icon to video call you right now so you can show me how much you miss me ...

Lauren

Okay, I really need to go to sleep or this is going to go in a direction that will keep me up. I will be well rested for you tomorrow. Promise. XOXO

Jameson

Sweet dreams.

I’m torn between being sad to not hear her voice tonight, while simultaneously being relieved that I don’t have to make sure I don’t bring up anything about Sophia, because that is a conversation to have in person.

I wouldn’t tell her any of this right before the charity game, anyway. It’s her first big event at work, and I’m not going to ruin that for her by dropping this news on her before her big night.

I really hate that there’s no way for me to fix this for her—not that she’d want me to. But I’m dreading the way I know it’s going to break her heart, and have her questioning everything: her marriage, her home in Boston, her ability to trust her own judgment. The least I can do is go to her armed with as much information as possible so she can decide what to do with it.

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