Page 2 of The Sweet Life

Sage tucked the office phone between her ear and shoulder and walked to her desk. After placing her own cell phone beside the keyboard, she woke up her computer. “You’ll probably outlive us all. You’re in better shape than I am.”

Sadly, it was true, but it was also true that her grandmother at seventy-four wasn’t getting any younger.

Bringing up her calendar on the screen, Sage continued, “I’ll come this weekend. I can fit you in on Sunday from twelve to five.”

“What? You’re such a big shot now that we have to make an appointment to see you?”

Sage winced. “No, of course not. It’s just that my caseload is heavy right now, and if I don’t work on the weekend, I’ll get behind.”

Back in January, she’d represented a high-profile client whose divorce had received a lot of attention in the press, in part due to the exorbitant support payments Sage had demanded for her client, and subsequently received. The publicity from the case was the reason she’d been inundated with new clients… and made junior partner.

She glanced at her calendar, mentally moving things around. “How about I sleep over on Saturday? We can have a movie night with everyone at Zia Eva’s.” Her aunt Eva had a large oceanfront home and would happily host a family movie night. It would be nice to see everyone, Sage grudgingly admitted to herself, even if it required her to pull another all-nighter.

“Si, that’s good. We need to talk about your mother.”

Sage sighed. She was the Rosetti family’s official problem solver. “Okay. We’ll talk Saturday night. I have to go—”

“Come for a late lunch. We’ll have time to talk before the movie then. I’ll make gnocchi the way you like it.”

Sage’s stomach grumbled at the mention of food. She couldn’t remember when she last ate, and there was nothing she liked to eat more than her grandmother’s fried potato dumpling pasta with Gorgonzola cream sauce and fire-roasted tomatoes, which Carmen well knew. Her grandmother could offer master classes on the art of manipulation.

Sage could use a master class on the art of saying no, but she had been missing her family. At least she had been when she’d had a moment to think about anything besides work. She reminded herself that she loved her job, and she really did.

There was nothing more satisfying than ensuring that women were protected, financially as well as mentally, and sometimes physically, from the men who’d promised to love and cherish them but instead treated them so badly that they destroyed their confidence and stole their identity.

She’d been raised by three strong and loving single mothers who went out of their way to help other women. Sage had known from an early age that she wanted to do the same. Except she didn’t provide a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen or free meals and babysitting services. She went after the men where it hurt most, their bank accounts.

“Okay. Ciao, Nonna. I’ll see you Sat—”

“Don’t hang up! I didn’t call to chat. I called to ask you about Alice Espinoza. She’s missing.”

Sage slowly lowered herself onto her chair. “What do you mean, she’s missing?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? She’s missing. It says so on Facebook. No one has seen her since yesterday. You haven’t heard from her, have you? She didn’t come to the city to see you?”

As much as Sage’s mother, aunt, and grandmother had been her role models, Alice Espinoza was the reason she’d become a lawyer. Alice had begun mentoring her at sixteen, and Sage had spent the majority of her weekends and school holidays with Alice at her home and law offices on Ocean View Drive.

“I haven’t spoken to her since…” Sage racked her brain, trying to remember when they’d last talked. She was positive it had been within the past two months, but then it hit her.“… New Year’s Eve.” She briefly closed her eyes at the realization she hadn’t spoken to Alice in five months.

She’d called Sage around nine o’clock on New Year’s Eve. They’d laughed at their similar plans for the night, working at home while watching Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen ring in the New Year. Then Alice had shared her surprising news. She was buying a lavender farm outside Sunshine Bay. She planned to relocate her law practice to the farm as well. Sage had promised to help her with the move, and Alice had texted her the date last month. Sage had meant to call her, but time had gotten away from her.

Sage grabbed her cell phone, opened it with her face, and went to Facebook. Her sister, Willow, had uploaded Facebook and Instagram onto Sage’s phone two years ago in a futile attempt to convince Sage that some people actually had lives apart from their jobs. The only reason Sage hadn’t deleted the apps was because her mother, aunt, and grandmother regularly posted videos on La Dolce Vita’s account to promote the family’s Italian restaurant. “Who posted about Alice?”

“Her assistant posted on the firm’s account, and your sister posted twenty minutes ago onGood Morning, Sunshine!Willow asked anyone who’s seen Alice recently to contact the police.” Sage’s sister hosted a morning talk show on Sunshine Bay’s local television station. Sage heard clicking, and then her grandmother said, “Sunshine Bay Police Department just posted that someone saw Alice riding her bike around sunset yesterday on Route 6A.”

Sage frowned. The route would take Alice to the farm,and Sage knew from Alice’s text last month that she had no plans to move in until the sale of her home on Ocean View Drive closed a few weeks from now. The farmhouse had needed a new roof and the plumbing and electrical systems updated.

Sage found the post and began scrolling through people’s responses to the sighting. Several mentioned seeing Alice in town earlier in the week, and then SBPD posted a photo.

At the sight of the iridescent purple bike lying in a ditch, Sage covered her mouth. “That’s Alice’s bike.”

She’d know it anywhere. Alice had been riding the same bike for as long as Sage had known her.

It took several shaky attempts before Sage got the bottom drawer of her desk unlocked. Once she did, she grabbed her purse, tossed her cell phone inside the oversize leather bag, and shot from the chair. It wasn’t until she was halfway out the door that she remembered she had to be in court.

Looking as panicked as Sage felt, Brenda waved her off. “Go. We’ve got this. We’ll ask for a postponement.”

“But the briefs. I—”

---