"Smart Sadie? I can’t believe I forgot her name." I wouldn’t have been eligible to play if she hadn’t helped me pass that test. She changed my life in just a few short weeks, and I went on to have a record-breaking season. "Why? Isn’t it a good thing when family comes to town?"
Howie glances around the room after rolling his eyes at me. "It’s just Sadie, and she doesn’t visit. She hasn’t bothered to make the short drive home in three years. I think it’s a little out of character for her to show up out of the blue, and Mal seemed concerned when she messaged me."
I take a drink and wonder what could be so bad about coming to Mage Hollow. I can’t imagine that I’d stop visiting regularly if I took a job elsewhere. Especially one that is close. But maybe that’s what everyone thinks before they leave.
"Maybe you should just talk to her… check in. If there’s something going on, you already know we will all do whatever we can to fix it. It’s the least we could do for you."
"I know"—Howie smiles at me and reaches over the bar to pat my shoulder—"you’re a good friend, Max. Sadie isn’t really the type you check in on, though. She’s independent, doesn’t like to ask for help, ya know?"
"Okay, but back up a second." I point to my temple, my usual sign for sayingHey, I have a shit memory, explain it to me. "Who’s Mal?"
"My cousin, Sadie’s sister." He shakes his head and chuckles under his breath.
"And she lives in Mage?"
"Yes, Max." Howie glances around the bar, likely checking to make sure no one needs his attention.
"Could you talk to her sister again? See if she knows more?" I run a hand through my hair. I would help because it’s the right thing to do, but also this might be the first interesting thing to happen around here in months. The busybody in me can’t miss an opportunity to be a part of what I’m sure will headline Mage’s rumor mill soon.
Howie laughs. "Mal is supposed to send me an update, but maybe it’s better if I wait for Sadie to come to me. It worked last time. Ariella and Olive reached out first when they were dealing with the Irina stuff."
"But this is family. According to Mabel, it’s okay to be a little extra when it comes to your genetic line." I smirk, thinking about how very much my mother would be up my ass if I forgot to tell her that I was coming home. "How is Ari anyway? Haven’t seen her in a while."
The door jingles with more guests filtering in for happy hour, and Howie shifts on the balls of his feet. He’s clearly eager to get on with his shift. Or he’s avoiding talking about the crush he has on my sister-in-law’s best friend—a crush he can’t seem to let go of.
"She’s noncommittal—"
"Can I get a little help over here?" A patron seated at the other end of the bar calls out.
"It’s about to get busy here. I’ll just text you if I need anything, and don’t tell Ollie I said that aboutherfriend." His face contortsas a nervous laugh rolls out of him. I nod my head, stand from my chair, and make my exit when he hollers out to me. "Give Benny a hug from his uncle Howie!"
"Will do, How. Will do."
three
Sadie
A Beguiling Book
Fl@mes1234!
Your password is incorrect. Please try again.
The computer screen taunts me on what feels like my hundredth try. Each time I type in a potential option, I’m met with a denial. I’ve tried everything from Alex’s (my boss’s fiancée) middle name to keeping it simpler with things like TheFlames, Hockey123, and SparkTheFlame25. Levi is notthatcreative. It has to be something obvious, yet nothing I’ve punched in has resulted in what I desperately want: access.
I know I’m on leave, but it’s temporary, supposedly. And with the program I lead expanding from featuring just one kid last year to multiple this year—I can’t afford to let inquiries pile up oremails go unanswered. Most bosses would champion this kind of dedication, or at the very least, not deliberately lock you out.
Giving up, I sit my laptop on the hardwood floor and tuck my feet underneath me as I lean back in my mother’s rose velvet wingback chair. Grabbing my coffee from the end table beside me, I sip it gingerly, letting the warmth soothe my nerves.
I get why he did it, but also I don’t. Over the past few days, my mind hasn’t quit analyzing what happened. I had a meltdown, a panic-induced moment that I created entirely on my own through a series of complicated choices. Yet, if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Six years ago, I was fresh out of college and searching for any position that would allow me to use my human services degree, while also not stepping foot in a counseling center. When the position opened to work with youth in sports, connecting them with opportunities they wouldn’t have otherwise, I knew it would be a great fit. I wasn’t qualified in the slightest—my only previous athletic experience being the one time I tried track in high school—I lasted less than a week. Yet, something about it spoke to me—to myneedto always be moving, and to have a chance at a life I wouldn’t otherwise afford onmyown.
So, I hustled—like I always do—and made sure that the staff conducting my interview knew that they wouldn’t find another candidate who would work harder. I came to my interview prepared with detailed plans for the programs that would make the biggest difference, research to back up my claims, and the hope that they’d take a chance.
Over the years, I’ve not only grown the program to something revered in professional sports, but I’ve also made it fun. I’ve connected with families and truly impacted lives. Hell, what I didn’t tell my family last night is that I’ve neglected any semblance of a social life because a night out could never be as important as making a difference for these kids. But all of thathas led to a near-debilitating pressure that is so heavy it’s almost crushing me under its weight. Keyword, almost.
My phone buzzes against my leg from deep inside the pocket of my robe. I pull it out only to find a message from the one man I wasn’t expecting to hear from.
