Thankfully, tomorrow was off the table. “I’m meeting my mom at Park Meadows to go shopping.”
Something shifted in his expression. A memory. And the little flicker of doubt.
“How is she?” Roman asked, his expression suddenly serious.
Sadie’s mom had gone through cancer treatment when Sadie was young and Roman knew the toll it had taken on her.
“Mom’s good. But she has a new affinity for Vera Wang that we need to nip in the bud before Dad loses his mind when he realizes the number of blouses she’s buying.”
“Then the next day? Where’s your new favorite place to grab a bite?” he asked, not letting up.
Sadie wished—really, she wished—she could erase the years that had passed. The disappointment in what she’d hoped they could be.
“There’s… I…” she said, and it didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t go there with him. Not only because of the double-dipping thing, but also, and mostly, she knew if she jumped in, she’d sink straight to the bottom. And she worried, genuinely worried, she wouldn’t make it back out.
“Are you seeing someone?” Roman asked.
She didn’t answer. He took her non-answer as an answer.
“Is it serious?” Roman asked, concern etching lines in his forehead like he was able to have an opinion on her love life. Which, to be clear, he was not.
“It can’t be like that between us again…” She trailed off.
When things fizzled, they fizzled for a reason. In this case, it was because Roman had left.
Sadie had watched enough relationships play out that she understood if they ended once, they’d end again.
“You know it can’t be,” she said.
He turned Louise over in his hand. “You know what I know?”
“You know lots,” Sadie replied.
“I know that sometimes when we least expect it, things change.” He glanced back at her. “And when they change? That’s when the good stuff happens.”
“You know what I know, Roman?” Sadie asked, suddenly taking this conversation way too intensely.
“What’s that?”
“After the good stuff ends? People hire me.” Shark Sadie was back in action. Thank. God. “I represent them.”
Sadie wished there was a stained-glass window she could toss herself out of—straight back into yesterday when Roman was still wherever Roman did Roman-y things. Not in the space where Sadie did Sadie things. But since she was here, and escape was not imminent, she’d deal.
“Roman?” An elderly woman with a thick Russian accent and an extremely florescent lime-green skirt suit skittered into the hallway. Her pillbox hat matched the dress perfectly. “Ve are vaiting for family photographs. Hurry along.”
Sadie would recognize this woman’s voice anywhere. This was Roman’s babushka.
She couldn’t help it; she smirked remembering a time when she hid in a hotel closet from her. Life was so much simpler when she was mid-fling and sorting condoms. Ahhh, memories.
The old woman paused when she caught sight of Sadie and moved her gaze between them. “Who is this?”
“I’m Sadie.” Sadie offered her hand to shake.
The woman gripped Sadie’s hand in a vise and held on way past what was comfortable.
“You live in Denver?” the woman asked.
“Y-yes.” Why did that sound like a question at the end?
