Page 126 of Big Dill

“Or she’s out to dinner,” I add quickly. “Or… something. I’m sure everything’s fine.”

“Yeah,” he says, not looking convinced in the slightest. “I’m sure it is.”

The silence stretches again, heavy now.

“Hey,” I say, needing to break it. “Have you seen my phone? I haven’t been able to find it for the last hour.”

“I can call it.”

“I think it’s in my office somewhere. Give me two minutes, then call.”

He nods.

As I turn to leave, I hesitate. He’s genuinely worried about his sister. Hell, so am I. And there’s something else there too—something he’s not saying. It’s not just concern over whether this is what she really wants, or whether she’s doing this for their parents. It feels deeper than that.

I hurry back to my office and listen for the ring. A minute later, I find my phone buried beneath a stack of files. Strange. I hadn’t touched those today.

I answer as it buzzes in my hand. “Got it. Thanks, bud.”

After I hang up, I scroll through my calls. My messages.

Nothing.

I look up when there’s movement in the doorway, my heart jolting hard enough to hurt. For half a second, I’m sure it’s Jami.

But it’s Elise.

She’s wearing Jami’s new pickleball gear, paddle tucked under her arm.

“Game?” she asks.

I’m about to say no, but maybe moving, burning off this excess energy, will help quiet the restless buzz under my skin while I wait to hear from Jami.

“Yeah. Okay,” I say. “I just need to change.”

At my cubby, I pull out the clothes Jami made me for my birthday. The fabric is soft under my fingers, familiar. A sweat-wicking T-shirt with our logo and matching shorts, the design subtly different from the rest. Made just for me.

My mouth curves into a smile even as my chest tightens with worry.

I change quickly, and then we head out to the courts. I see Nicola standing off to the side like she’s waiting for a partner. Elise spots her and waves her over without hesitation.

Elise glances up at me, eyes bright, hopeful. “Why don’t you see if we can find her a partner? We’ll play as a team.”

“Sure,” I say, and glance around. That’s when I spot Susan, also dressed in Jami’s clothes.

Ten minutes later, we’re all on the court, but my head isn’t in it. I miss easy shots. overcorrect. Misjudge the bounce. Meanwhile, all three women are wiping the floor with me. I’d forgotten how athletic Elise is. She’s not just good. She’s relentless. When she wants something she really goes after it.

She grins at me after a clean point. “If Jami ever bails, I can take her place in Alberta,” she says lightly, dazzling smile firmly in place. “We make a pretty good team, Brody. We always have.”

Something inside me stalls.

If Jami ever bails.

I hesitate just long enough for doubt to slither in. Why would she say that? Does she know something I don’t?

No. She can’t. She and Jami aren’t friends. Jami knows how badly Elise hurt me. Forgiving her was one thing, inviting her back into my life as anything more than a friend was never part of the deal. And aside from both being designers, having a similar build, similar features, they’re nothing alike.

…Right?