Page 41 of Free Agent

My head popped up in time to see Shan strutting into my office without knocking. I wasn’t even mad. Her appearance was enough to shock me out of the emotional overreaction trying to kill me.

Something, probably the impending panic attack, on my face made her stop in her tracks halfway to the desk, nostrils flared and eyes wide. “I just saw Monty leaving as I was on my way up. What happened?”

“Monty happened,” I huffed, scrubbing a hand over my face, taking half of my eyelash extensions with it.

Perfect.

“Are you okay? I would’ve tripped him, but he was on the other side of the lobby. Carrying a bouquet of flowers. Looking sad and dumb.”

My eyebrows went up as I looked away from the stray false eyelashes decorating my palm. “Sad and dumb?”

“Oozing sorry and stupidity. Very sad. Very dumb.” She nodded. “Look, I took a picture.”

I sat up a little more as she finished approaching the desk, unlocking her phone to extend to me. I accepted it, taking a good long look at the semi-blurry picture she’d caught of Monty.

He did, indeed, look sad and dumb.

Woefully, it did not make me feel any better.

I didn’t want him to be sad. I wanted him, us, to be happy, like we used to be. But with everything that had transpired at this point, I fully understood that was impossible now.

It just… wasn’t that easy to wish it away.

None of this was easy.

Not when the fuck Monty narrative wasn’t nearly as black and white for me as it was for everyone else. With the exception of Sierra, and even her view was limited as my friend, no one knew how very deeply Team Aurora Mitchell Monty had always been.

Lots of men claimed their woman could have anything she wanted. If he could get it, it was hers.

Monty had actually stood on that.

Over and over.

Anything I asked of him, he gave.

Except fidelity.

Maybe it really wasn’t within his ability?

“Where did you go just now?”

I blinked, remembering Shan was still in the room with me, and we were mid-conversation.

“I was just looking at the picture,” I said, sitting back. “He showed up with flowers.” I gestured at the phone. “I sent him off. I’m not interested.”

“That’s right. Stand on business, sis.” Shan nodded, picking up her phone. “Are you okay?”

“As okay as I could be, I guess,” I answered. “I really just want to get back to work. Have we heard back from the dietitian about the updated supplement recommendations?”

Supplements were a tricky, often controversial subject to handle, but it was a topic very near and dear to my heart. We had a team of dietitians and researchers digging into clinical trials, consumer research, medical journals, anywhere they could, for information about supplements that supported postpartum recovery, both mental and physical. Energy, breastfeeding, stress, libido, all of that.

I needed to know so we could present the most accurate possible information to our app users.

“They need another week. There’s a new study on rhodiola coming out, and they want to wait on it.”

I nodded. “Okay. That’s fine. But I want to get the updated journal pushed out to the app as soon as possible.”

“I’ve got you, boss lady. You know I’ll stay on top of it, keep you posted, all that good stuff.”

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