Page 77 of Miss Understood

“Yes.”

The word slips out before I realize I’ve even made the decision. But I can’t work with Jesse anymore, married or not. And the more I think about carving my own path outside of Brad and his connections to my father, the more it feels like the right decision either way.

I might know that Brad’s relationship with my father didn’t get me the job, just like I know that being with Jesse didn’t win me the Marchetto case. But the connections are like threads: they tug, and no matter how thin they are, people will always see them.

They’ll always wonder if that’s how I’ve gotten as far as I have.

Besides, Jesse might dislike Troy, but Troy is damn good at his job. And he’s been nothing but professional since he found out I was married. Joining his firm gives me the opportunity to stand on my own two feet and really prove myself.

“Good,” Monica says. “This is the kind of shake-up you needed. Use this time, figure out what you want to be doing. Sort through which parts of your time with Jesse were fake and which weren’t. Decide if it’s really Jesse you want to be with, or if you’re just ready to be with someone. Anyone.”

She might have a point, but the idea of any other man makes my heart ache even harder. My body’s knowledge of him is woven into its fabric. It remembers him, wants him.

Him and his massive cock.

Stupid brain! It needs to stop thinking about his dick and turning me into a horny teenager.

“Maybe you’re right,” I decide.

“I am.” Monica smiles, but this time I see something hidden behind it. She might be telling me to move on, but there’s definitely a devious glimmer in her light brown eyes. “All right, enough boy talk. Let’s dive into the good part of this evening.”

“Monica? Done with the boy talk? I never thought I’d see the day!” I hold a hand to my chest and flutter my eyelashes dramatically.

She swats at me. “Even I have my quota.”

“Even with Carson?”

“We are not talking about Carson,” she says with a giggle.

“Mm-hmm.”

She tosses her wild curls, and I can tell she’s trying to shake loose whatever hot little thoughts just popped up in there.

“No more boy talk tonight; I mean it,” she says with a stern finger pointed at me. “I’ve got bigger and better things planned for us.”

“You mean tonight gets better than this lecture you’re giving me while I wallow in my cave of sadness?”

“Yes.” She nods her head. Her eyes dart around the room, landing on my trash can full of takeout containers. Remnants of my affair with massive amounts of sweet and sour chicken.

Her eyes fall back on me. “Although, Lucey, you’re going to have to shower first. Just because a boy broke your heart doesn’t mean you can get away with whatever is going on in this bedroom.”

“Agreed,” I laugh.

“On that note, I’ve got action flicks with absolutely zero love story, the M&M brownies that I know are your favorite, and this.” She throws a male nudie magazine at me, and I laugh.

“Kennedy says this is payback from her temporary crisis with Zac.”

“Is that what she’s calling it now, a temporary crisis?” I laugh.

Monica shrugs. “That girl has a word for everything.”

“That she does,” I say, flipping through the pages just to get a reaction out of Monica, who rolls her eyes.

The problem is that none of the men in there do anything for me. Because I can turn the pages all I want, but I’ll never find Jesse’s unreal body on the other side.

I slap it shut, and Monica frowns at me.

“I’ve never seen you so sad when looking at porn.” She shakes her head.

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