Page 3 of Secret Spark

A gorgeous white woman watching Sadie with amusement toying at her lips.

She stopped short, instantly embarrassed. The woman’s dark brown hair was pulled into a little bun, showing off an undercut. Her buttoned-up, short-sleeved seersucker shirt and olive-green pants didn’t disguise the cut of finely sculpted muscles.

Sadie reflexively smoothed her rounded bangs. Good thing she’d had a recent color touch-up so they were a brilliant auburn.

“Late night?” the stranger said.

“Yeah,” Sadie said. She cleared her throat and found the ability to walk again.

“Doing something fun, I hope.”

“Working, so not really.”

“That’s too bad.” The woman held a large gym bag in one hand. The lighting around the elevators was dimmed in the evening, but it did sort of look like she might have recently worked out. That glow of physical activity.

Sadie pointed at the bag. “Getting home from a workout?”

Pleasantly Glowing Person glanced down at it. “Sort of. I was at work, too.”

“Are you a trainer?”

“I work at a gym.”

Before Sadie could ask which one (not that she knew about local workout places), the elevator doors in front of them opened.

They stepped in. Sadie pushed the button for the seventh floor. “Which floor?” she asked.

“Same one.”

“Really? What apartment are you in?”

“Seven fourteen.”

Elation twirled up her chest. “I live across the hall in 709. We’re neighbors.”

“Cool. I just moved in.”

“I’ve lived here for two years. Let me know if you have any questions about anything.”

“I will.” A citrusy ginger aroma wafted from Pleasantly Glowing Person.

“I’m Sadie Eagan, by the way.” She giggled at how weird that sounded. “Wow, that was sure formal.Sadie Eagan.”

Her new neighbor laughed, too. “Joan Malone. Since we’re being so formal.”

They shook hands firmly, almost professionally. The warmth in Joan Malone’s hand was definitely friendly. As was her languid smile that hinted at good times for its lucky recipient.

The elevator binged and delivered them to their floor. They walked into the bright hallway light. Joan’s strong jawline was more pronounced, and?—

Whoa. Her eyes. Their color. Amber and golden and brown. A swirl of shades Sadie had never seen before.

“What do you do for work, Sadie Eagan?” Joan asked, her voice low and unhurried.

Sadie forced her gaze from those eyes. “I’m a barista at Vector City Coffee.”

Joan switched her nylon gym bag to her opposite hand. “Oh yeah?”

“It’s over on Bromley, near the corner.” With a snort (ugh, so embarrassing!), Sadie added, “The storefront with a giant hole in it.”