Page 83 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

Sarah wasn’t easily thrown. She spent her days head-to-head with high-powered executives, courtroom sharks, and tech billionaires who thought their wealth made them untouchable.

She knew how to command a room, how to stay three moves ahead, how to read people before they even knew they were being read.

But Nell? Nell had read her effortlessly and shaken her easily, and Sarah was still trying to figure out why.

Nell Stanhope casually seeking her out for conversation made no sense to her, but that hadn’t felt like casual small talk. No, Nell had been probing, calculating. But why?

It felt like playing chess with someone who already knew the match’s outcome and was only letting you play to see how long it would take you to catch up. Sarah wasn’t used to being on that side of the table, and she hated how much she wanted another round. Or two. Or three.

She slid in beside Lily just in time for another photo when she felt a familiar touch.

“Wait, you’re a little twisted here,” Beth said, turning toward her, and Sarah willed herself not to react as Beth absently reached out to straighten the halter strap of her dress and Jamie laughed on her other side at something Wren had just said.

Do not react, do not react , she recited as she smiled for the camera, pretending she couldn’t feel the ghost of Beth’s touch on her collarbone, where her hand had just been.

Her mind hadn’t caught up yet—an unfamiliar lag for someone usually ten steps ahead of everyone in the room. No, it was still standing across the room, locked in step with Nell Stanhope.

They will.

Nell had said it like a promise that their paths would cross again soon, not a possibility. Sarah hadn’t gotten a number—Nell wouldn’t be that obvious—but she made a mental note to ask Avery to find it. Quietly.

“You look stunning, Sar,” Beth said softly.

“Lily knocked it out of the park again. You always could pull off a halter.” Sarah tried her best not to melt into those words, into the three-letter variation of her name that only Beth could get away with calling her.

She told herself she wouldn’t, but she made the mistake of looking directly into Beth’s eyes—those pools of endless blue she had always loved to get lost in.

“So do you,” she said, and she meant it. Beth did look amazing, and it physically hurt her to say that out loud and not be able to do anything more about it.

Sarah forced herself to look away and turned instead to Jamie, who was deep in conversation with Wren and Lily.

“I think we can officially call Empwr a massive success, don’t you?” Sarah said, her voice assuming its usual commanding presence.

Jamie turned, her face lighting up at the praise. “Yeah. It’s been an insane year.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Beth murmured, squeezing Jamie’s hand.

Jamie grinned at her before turning back to Sarah. “But, seriously, thank you. That means a lot.”

She softened slightly, sincerity slipping into her tone. “Well, for what it’s worth, I admire what you and Shannon have built here. Women’s sports needed this, and you two are already making a big impact. I can’t wait to see what the future holds.”

Jamie’s face flickered through something almost vulnerable—surprise, appreciation, maybe even relief—before she gave a lopsided grin. “Is this where we finally hug it out?” Jamie joked, already knowing Sarah’s answer.

Sarah chuckled, shaking her head. “Not a chance, Lyons.”

Jamie dove into telling her about some of the new businesses she had helped athletes get off the ground over the past year, and Sarah listened with mild interest, but it was getting increasingly harder to listen to Jamie when she could feel Beth’s eyes on her.

Beth was watching her now, her blue eyes a little too knowing for Sarah’s comfort.

Beth, who could always see right through her.

This particular expression was that same disappointed I know you’re distracted look Beth had often worn through their marriage, but now, Sarah’s distraction was for an entirely different reason.

She raised an eyebrow, silently daring Beth to say something, and Beth almost did. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and narrowed her eyes slightly before sipping her drink—a silent truce.

Sarah brushed it off, returning her attention to Jamie as her phone buzzed in her clutch. Perfect , she thought, ready for a breather from this conversation.

“I’m sorry, I need to take this.” Her voice was perfectly apologetic as she stepped off to the side, away from Beth and Jamie, and pulled her phone from the small, beaded bag.

It wasn’t a call—she had known that when she made her excuse to leave. It was a text.

UNKNOWN NUMBER 9:04 PM

Dinner. Tomorrow, 8 PM. I’ll send a car.

– Nell

Sarah’s brain screeched to a halt. “What the?” she said under her breath.

She stared at the message as if she could intimidate it into further explanation, the same way she would when cross-examining witnesses. She was still processing Nell’s message when a sensation prickled at the back of her neck, a quiet awareness that someone was watching her.

She looked up, and there she was. Nell Stanhope.

Across the room, she was calm and composed, her steel-blue gaze locked onto her, the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she lifted her glass in a deliberate acknowledgment.

Sarah felt the weight of it—the unspoken challenge and invitation wrapped in that single motion.

She swallowed.

What have you gotten yourself into? her mind whispered. She wasn’t sure, but she was intrigued as hell.

That dinner couldn’t come soon enough.