Page 78 of Trick or Tease

It wasn’t like I could make the deal without Billy’s participation. We were joint owners. The money would be great for me, but it wasn’t like it would make the same kind of difference in my life that it would make in his.

“I’m glad I could help,” I managed finally. “Things at work lined up just right, and I’m glad I came back for a while. Sometimes it’s easy to get lost in my job, and it’s been a while since I poked my head up from the grind and took a breath.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Being here had been good for me in ways I hadn’t expected. I’d forgotten what it felt like to work with my hands, to see immediate, tangible results from my efforts. In the city, everything was contracts and deals and billable hours. Here, I could sweep a floor and actually see the difference I’d made. I liked watching the kids smile and the families bond. It reminded me of simpler times.

“The city must be so different from this,” Sabrina said. “Do you miss it? When you’re here, I mean.”

I considered the question. Did I miss the constant pressure, the late nights, the feeling that I was always one mistake away from losing everything I’d worked for? “Parts of it,” I said honestly. “I miss the energy, the feeling that you’re at the center of everything important. But I don’t miss the stress. Or the way everyone’s always competing, always looking for an angle.”

“Is that why you became a lawyer? The competition?”

I laughed, but it came out bitter. “I became a lawyer because I was good at arguing and my parents thought it would be stable. Turns out, it’s anything but stable. You’re only as good as your last case, your last deal.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It is.” I took another drink from the bottle, surprised by my own honesty. “But it’s also addictive. The rush when you close a big deal, when you outmaneuver the other side. It’s like a drug.”

Sabrina was quiet for a moment, studying my face in the lantern light. “Do you think you’ll go back? After this?”

I knew she wasn’t just asking about my job. She was asking about us, about whatever this thing was that had started between us.

“I have to,” I said softly. “My whole life is there. My career, my apartment, everything I’ve built.”

She nodded, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes. “I know. I wasn’t expecting… I mean, I know this is temporary.”

The rational part of my brain knew she was right. This was temporary. A brief interlude before I went back to my real life. But sitting here with her, it was hard to remember why that life had seemed so important.

“Sabrina,” I started, not sure what I wanted to say.

“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I’m not asking for promises or declarations. I’m just grateful for right now.”

“Me too.”

“You’re always welcome to come back here, if you ever decide that life isn’t for you.”

It was such a simple offer, but it meant everything. The idea that I had a place to come back to, people who would welcome me with open arms no matter what happened in my other life—it was a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.

At the firm, everything was conditional. My value was tied to my billable hours, my ability to bring in clients, my potential to make partner. But here, Sabrina was offering me acceptance just for being me. Not the successful lawyer version of me, just me.

“Thank you,” I said. “That means more than you know.”

She smiled and picked up one of the cardboard figures she’d cut out earlier. “Come on, help me hang this spooky character in the back room. I want kids to catch glimpses of movement through the doorway.”

I followed her into what had probably been a bedroom once upon a time. The space was smaller than the main room, with a single window that looked out over the cornfield. Sabrina had already strung up some lanterns in here too, casting everything in that eerie glow.

“Hold this steady while I get the fishing line attached,” she said, handing me the cardboard cutout. It was a simple silhouette of a hunched figure, but in the flickering light, it looked genuinely creepy.

I held it in position while she worked, trying not to think about how close we were standing. Every time she reached up to adjust something, her shirt rode up slightly, giving me glimpses of the smooth skin I’d been touching just hours ago. The memory of our time together was still so fresh, so vivid.

I could smell her. I needed to have her.

“There,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “Now when the wind catches it, it’ll sway just enough to look like someone’s moving around in here.”

“You’re really good at this,” I said, meaning it. “The whole atmosphere you’ve created up here is perfect. Spooky but not terrifying. Exactly what families with kids would want.”

She beamed at the compliment. Making her happy felt almost as addictive as closing a big deal. Maybe more so, because this felt real in a way that corporate victories never did.

Without thinking, I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The simple touch sent electricity shooting through me. I saw her eyes darken in response.