Page 59 of Sportsball is for Lovers

twenty

. . .

Jared

The craft fairis my idea of hell. It’s misting rain outside, a bite to the air warning of more to come, and I’m supposed to stand guard over Sadie’s table while she meets readers.

I shouldn’t even be here. I hadn’t planned on coming to the street fair. But when Yoni crawled into my room at four o’clock in the morning and told me he was dying of the plague, I knew I’d take his place today. Elliott is at home, playing nursemaid, so I’m playing bodyguard.

Not that she’s acknowledged me since I showed up to her place early this morning. We packed up the ride-share with her boxes of books, drove out to Newton, and set up entirely in silence. She pointed where things went. At one point, she disappeared entirely.

But then she came back holding two coffee cups, silently offering one to me. So maybe she’s thawing. Hopefully.

There have been a steady stream of looky-loos, but not many sales so far. Sadie has her bright and charming Sylvie smile on.

A large man stops beside her table, his head cocked as he takes in the books displayed. With a quiet grunt, he nods and picks up a title. He’s at least six foot six and has the broad frame of someone who works out. Clutched in his fist is a hefty tote bag packed full with books.

Sadie falls silent. She has a way of reading the reader, knowing when they want a sales pitch and when they need to be coaxed out of their shell.

The man looks at his smartwatch, then sighs. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and types something in a message.

Almost immediately, his phone rings.

“Yes, babe, I know,” he says without waiting for the other person to respond.

“Sylvie Hirsch!” A woman’s voice shrieks on the other end. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

The man sighs. “So you want them all, then?”

“You bet your ass I do,” the woman says loudly through the line. “Does she have the special edition?”

Sadie nods, lifting the title.

“Here, hang on a second,” the man says. “Do you mind?” He asks Sadie.

She shakes her head.

“Okay, babe, you’re on speaker,” he says.

The woman lets out a high-pitched shriek. “OMG! Sylvie Hirsch!”

Sadie grins from ear to ear. “Hi, there. Who am I talking to?”

“My name is Mackenzie and I am such a fan!” The woman says. “I’m out of town this weekend but when I heard you were coming by, I told Wes he had to come see you.”

“I’m glad he did,” she says. Her eyes flicker to mine, her smile softening.

“I work for a small independent bookstore in Newton,” Mackenzie continues. “We carry all of your books.”

“I’ll get the name of the bookstore from—Wes, you said?”

The man nods.

“And we’ll figure out a way for me to stop by and sign some of your stock,” Sadie offers.

Mackenzie lets out a shriek. “You’d do that?”

“Absolutely. I’ll get the information and reach out to you,” she promises.