Page 48 of Our Sadie
Gone is the bed, dresser, and seating area. Now, a wall of some fabric—possibly the sheets from the bed—partition off a table set with at least a dozen taper candles. The food, although I can’t see it quite yet, is giving off this mouthwatering aroma.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t eaten since breakfast or maybe because my date has gone above and beyond, but the fog I’ve been trapped in dissipates.
“Zach, what did you do?”
His cobalt blue eyes appear much darker in this dim candlelight, but his grin is front and center.
“Just a little something-something.”
There’s nothing little about it. As we move closer I can make out prime rib, some sort of buttery potato dish, and roasted veggies.
“Have you been speaking to Max?”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely,” I assume.
“Yeah, she’s a lifesaver. She cooked up all this. But I’m the one who prepared the room. The bed’s back there. I’ll put it all back later, I promise.”
There’s this eager look on his face as if seeking approval, and I can’t bear to not give it.
“This is incredible, Zach. Thank you.”
Relief emanates from him in a wave. “Anytime.”
SIXTEEN: Disturbance
DOMINIC
It’s been three days since I took Sadie out on our date, and while it ended all right, I can’t help worrying about the parts I fucked up on. I haven’t sat down with the other two men to find out if their dates were as up and down as ours. But then, that would mean admitting to pissing her off without meaning to.
And that sounds like a bad idea.
I’m tempted to ask Sadie straight up where I am among the three of us just to know for sure. If she’s about to kick me out on my ass, I’d like to know.
As much as I’m eager to get back to Boston, the Elegance system is based on ratings. When a contractor is brand new, you’ve got a clean slate. But once you’ve been rated, that shit sticks. Which is fine if mine stay high. The handful of short gigs I had before Sadie established me with a solid number. But if she bombs my score, no one else at Elegance will be willing to take a chance on me.