“Well, well, well, look who decided to join us.”
Bones runs up to Sage with a tennis ball, and she picks it up, tossing it down the field.
I lift a brow. “Nice arm.”
She chuckles, watching in admiration as Bones speeds down the park. “I was a varsity pitcher in high school. Clearly, my muscle memory is phenomenal.”She glances at me. “Why are you wearing sunglasses? It’s forty-five and overcast.”
I roll my eyes, thankfully she can’t see it, otherwise, I’m sure she’d spit out some sassy remark and hurt my ego. “Seeing as how you always dress like a highlighter, and I don’t want to be noticed by the pap, I figured this was my best line of defense.”
Sage snorts. “Yeah, as if in the great borough of Manhattan the paparazzi don’t have anything better to do than follow around a washed-up business mogul.”
My jaw slightly gaps at her insult. “Washed up? I’m not?—”
She throws a relatively aggressive elbow into my side. “Relax, it was a joke. But seriously, do you honestly think you’re interesting enough to be followed around? This city is littered with influencers, actors, and singers, all of whom probably have a way bigger fan base than you.” She shrugs. “Sorry, but it’s the truth.”
I glare at her as she tosses the ball again. “You’re kind of an asshole, has anyone told you that before?”
Sage shrugs, unfazed by my comment. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I mutter, nearly knocked off my feet as a muddy Bones charges toward me and lays down on top of my thousand-dollar custom-made boots. Nice. “Your dog is ruining my shoes.”
She grins down and pats Bones’s head. “Good boy.”
“Dick,” I toss at her, scowling.
“Princess,” she bites back, picking up the ball. With a stretch, she nods toward a nearby bench. “I need to sitfor a bit. Chronic fatigue is a bitch.” She pauses, a playful gleam in her eyes. “Will your ass be okay sitting on a dirty New York City bench? Or will its insurance premium skyrocket?”
“I don’t know why I came here,” I say, sulking as I mindlessly follow her to the grimy wooden bench. “Clearly it wasn’t for the charming company.”
Bones settles by Sage’s feet as we sit down. She angles herself toward me, head tilted. “You’re here because you need to talk. So? Talk.”
My body physically clams up. How do I even start? How do I tell her about the shitshow that’s my life? I can’t disclose it all. There are aspects of my miserable story that must remain hidden. But parts and pieces aren’t enough.
“Why don’t you start small,” Sage says, reading my mind. “What’s bothering you right now, at this moment?”
“Other than you?”
“Deflect all you want, Damon, but that’s not going to help you in the long run.”
I awkwardly scratch the back of my neck, unable to form the right words. “I…”
Sage sighs. “Listen, I know this is hard for you. You don’t know me very well, and you don’t trust me, which is fine. But you clearly need to talk to someone, and you’re here, at the park, with me. So, you’ve basically decided what you want. Now you need to act.” Her voice grows stern. “What happened?”
I want to tell her. I want to tell someone. Anyone. But?—
An idea sparks, and I pat myself on the back for my quick thinking. Quick…but depressing. Swallowing, I take my phone out from my pocket and pull up my documents folder, selecting a file that could help me open up. I bite my tongue in concentration, typing out all the information. I double check the names are spelled correctly. With a slight wince, I pass the phone to Sage.
Her eyes widen as she reads the contract. "Did youseriouslyjust draft anNDAfor me to sign?"
I shrug. "Yes, and now I can hold you legally liable if any of what I'm about to tell you ends up in next week's paper."
Sage frowns as she scrolls through the document. "How do you know my last name?"
I raise an eyebrow, amused by her naïvéty. "Really? You think I didn't run a background check on you as soon as I got home from that first class? Cute. Really cute."
“You’re a low-key psycho.” With a resigned grunt, Sage swipes her finger across the screen and signs, and I feel a smidgen of relief. "There." She shoves the phone back into my hand. "Happy?"
I pocket my phone. "Yes."
