“You can think that, but you need to stay out of it.”
After a pregnant pause, Elena said, “Phil has a great job, and he provided a really nice life for you and the kids. Are you doing better now? You’re hardly ever home anymore, and for what—an executive assistant job? It’s not like you’re saving lives or something.”
“Mom,” she said, a heavy note of caution in her voice.
“It seems like you’re only thinking about yourself with all of these decisions.”
And what was her mom even talking about? Of course she was thinking about herself. Why was that a bad thing? It was her marriage, and it was her divorce. Not to mention, the whole point of her job was saving lives. Not that she could say it.
“It’s not the 1950s anymore. I don’t want Kyle to see that having kids means she can’t have a job, not to mention joy.” Did her pleasure count? Even if it did, did she have time for it?
That made her mom laugh. “Joy—what are you talking about? You’re a mother.”
Yikes. Sheridan was right.
“Gabby,” her mom sighed like Gabby was a recalcitrant child, “you are being selfish. It isn’t about you. It’s about your kids.”
Gabby took a deep breath. “Stay out of it, Mom. This isn’t your business.”
“Fine, Gabriella.”
Her mom had sucked all the air out of the car.
Violently, she pressedPLAYon Sheridan. Gabby was going to make her own rules, damn it. And the first rule she was making?Shewould be the one to rescue this psychic. Gabby might need her advice.
Today was the only workday before Operation Heartache to Heartache, so called because someone was listening to Pat Benatar, but for no other reason. Hopefully, Gabby wasn’t missing something, but she had the vague sense that someone was making fun of her.
She slipped into her cubical for a quick email check before a meeting with Valentina at oh-nine-hundred. The cubes were right where International Rug, Inc., had kept the pasta and specialty sauces; the EOD had moved into the big box store’s warehouse property after it had gone bankrupt. Gabby was still hoping to find a stash of candles or throw pillows somewhere.
Markus wasn’t at his desk so, for the moment, her brain was free to answer emails. Spy email wasn’t that much more exciting than regular email. There were endless calendar invites for various meetings, notices regarding which parts of the building were being cleaned or updated, and office refrigerator etiquette. She wasn’t going to name names but there were a lot of national security experts who didn’t make a new pot of coffee after takingthe last cup. In good news, she received an email regarding her sidearm.
Agent Greene, you have been cleared to carry a sidearm. Please report to the armory before the end of the day.
She wasn’t just a baby agent anymore. The EOD trusted her enough to give her a gun.
Another agent, Ed, popped his head into her space. “Heard you’re headed to the Azores, hot shot.”
“Seems like it,” she said.
“When you get back, we’ll have to celebrate, go out for drinks.”
Gabby smiled tightly. There was no way she was going out with work people when she got back from a work trip.
“We haven’t been able to get Markus out for a while.”
“Really?” That didn’t sound like the man who’d been inviting her out for dinner on the reg.
A second later, the man himself sidled up to the desk.
“Hey, Markus,” Ed said, “I was just saying we haven’t seen you at happy hour for a while. That darts championship could be yours if you wanted.”
“I’ve been focused.”
“You know what they say about ‘all work and no play…’”
“Is the path to success?” Markus answered.
“No, makes a dull boy. You’re going to be boring, alone, and successful.”
