Page 23 of Secret Spark

“Hi. I didn’t think you were home,” Sadie said.

“Sadie,” Joan said, visibly relieved for some reason. “I hoped it was you.”

Hooray!“I was just leaving you a note.” Sadie gestured at the folded paper on the carpeting.

Joan scooped it up and read it. A grin stretched across her face. “Sorry I haven’t gotten around to stopping by the café. Work’s been…”

“That’s okay. I figured you were busy.”

“Yeah. There’s been some coworker drama.”

Sadie nodded. “That’s always fun.”

She approached Joan in her open doorway. Her new neighbor wore gray sweatpants and a red T-shirt beneath a short-sleeved plaid shirt. Her brunette, chin-length hair hung loose and wavy.

Joan swung the door closed. “Still unpacking,” she said. “Kind of a mess in there.”

“If you need to use a fully functioning kitchen, mine’s available.”

“Thanks. I’ve been hoping we’d run into each other.”

Sadie leaned in and jokingly bumped Joan’s shoulder with her own. Joan winced and hunched forward.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” Sadie covered her mouth in embarrassment.

“It’s okay. I hurt my shoulder at work.”

Wait a second. Joan had a jumbo adhesive bandage across her knuckles. “What happened?” Sadie asked.

“Just…y’know… Sometimes equipment is in the wrong place.”

And actually, now that she was really looking, there was a bruise forming under Joan’s left eye. “Holy moly, you’re a mess,” Sadie said. “Can I get you something? Do you need anything?”

“I’m good.”

“Want me to beat up whoever was so negligent at your gym?”

A smirk tugged at Joan’s lips. “Sure.”

“Was it a coworker?” Sadie punched a fist into her palm. “Let me at ’em.”

“It was indirectly caused by a coworker. I appreciate the offer, but it might make things worse.”

“I have something that’s really good for bruises. Come over for a minute.”

Joan hesitated, looking back at her door.

“Unless you were in the middle of something,” Sadie said.

“No, I was watching the Vultures lose another game. Let me grab my keys really quick.”

She dashed back inside. Why did she have to lock her door to run across the hall? Unless she was planning on staying, in which case, that wasokay. Or maybe she’d been robbed before. Maybe she had expensive workout equipment. It wasn’t fair to assume anything.

Maybe she’s a Superhero who doesn’t want me to see her secret lair.

Joan came back out and smiled. “What coffee concoctions have you been working on?”

“I’m experimenting with Madagascar vanilla. Seeing what pairs best with it.”