Chapter 4
Gabby normally listened to her favorite self-help guru, Sloane Ellis, on the way to work.
Today, she pulled up Sheridan Lane’s podcast. She hit play on an episode titled “Balance.” After some acoustic intro music, Sheridan said, “Welcome to Uncommon Sense. I am your host, Sheridan Lane. Today we are talking about the greatest myth of all: balance.”
Gabby scoffed. All you had to do was try harder.
“Balance is difficult if you have too little or too much. Too little and you become the focus, time becomes a swamp. If you have too much, you want more. Oof. Women, I see you.”
If you wanted to balance more, you had to be faster, harder, stronger, smarter. Gabby knew that, if she could be more, she could do more.
Sheridan took a call. The caller, a woman named Tanya, said, “I have it all, a job and kids and everything, but I feel like I’m falling apart all the time.”
Gabby fought the impulse to press STOP. She didn’t need to hear this depressing garbage. Be More. Do More—that’s all there was to it.
“Do you really have it all?” Sheridan asked. “If you have a big job and a lot of family responsibility, are you having any fun?”
The caller actually sobbed into the phone. “No.”
“Well, then you don’t have it all. You just have all the work.”
Oh shit.
Frustrated, the woman asked, “How can I add some fun if I can barely do my job and take care of the kids?”
“If you can’t carry what you have, sounds like you need to set something down, and that is okay.”
What good was this psychic? “Help her!”
“Tell me what to do. Can you see a different future for me?”
“You determine your future. It’s time to dig deep and use your uncommon sense. I only call it uncommon because most people don’t have it, and if they do, they don’t use it.”
If Gabby wanted to add anything, or anyone, she needed to set something down. But what?
In a calm, but firm tone, Sheridan said, “Don’t forget. It’s your life, and you make the rules.”
Now she was talking! Gabby turned her up like she was listening to a girl-power anthem.
Everyone had an opinion on Gabby’s purely hypothetical love life lately. Sheridan was right—she needed to make the rules. There was one other person who needed this reminder.
In a loud, clear voice, Gabby said, “Hey Siri, call Mom.”
Elena Greene picked up the phone on the first ring.
“Gabby, how are you? How’re the kids?”
She could not small talk, not when her mom had been colluding with Phil. “Mom.” She said the word with all the force of a stop sign.
“How is Kyle doing in school? I’ve been worried about her being bullied. It’s all they talk about on the news.”
Thanks, Katie Couric.
The irony of her mom talking about bullying. “Mom, Phil came over last night—”
“Oh good!” she said in a high-pitched, drawn-out tone, as if she hadn’t instigated the visit. “How’d it go?”
Gabby took a deep breath. “Mom, he said you’ve been talking to him about us getting together.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” Gabby could hear Elena shaking her head over the phone. “It would be so much better for the kids if you could put your differences aside.”
“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 pressed PLAY on Sheridan. Gabby was going to make her own rules, damn it. And the first rule she was making? She would 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 taking the 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.”
Maybe Gabby wasn’t the only one out of balance.
Markus dismissed Ed’s prophecy and turned his attention to Gabby. “Let’s meet on the mats. I want to talk without everyone listening in.” He gestured to the other cubicles filled with spies.
Her stomach dropped. “Um, okay.”
With a feeling of dread, she hit the locker room and changed into a matching set from Target, leggings and a shirt with a built-in bra.
Why were people on the internet trying so hard to convince the world that a bra was a shirt?
In Gabby’s world, a shirt was still a shirt, and it was going to stay that way, damn it.
Markus was waiting for her in a muscle shirt and pants that left her struggling to keep her eyes up.
“How was your night?” he asked.
“Um…” She strained to focus on his face and keep from drooling. “Just the usual chaos at home.” She shut her eyes as she reached for her toes. Focus on stretching.
“That bad, huh?”
“Yes, although Justin let me into my bedroom again, finally.”
When Markus gave her a funny look, she explained. “I guess that sounds weird. He redecorated it for me and wanted to surprise me like it was a reality show reveal.”
“Your bedroom…”
“Yep, my bedroom.” She said the word slowly and glanced up from under her eyelashes to gauge his reaction.
He was very alert, she might even say eager, to hear about her bedroom. “Is it nice?” he asked.
She smiled softly and leaned into the flirting, angling toward him. “Very.”
“What color is it?” He might as well have asked what color her panties were.
“Pink.” She let the “p” pop on her tongue.
In a less flirty tone, she said, “Honestly, it’s sort of a disaster. Justin kind of forgot I have two kids and live with my grandmother.” She shook her head. “It’s gorgeous, but—” She shook her head. It was a little too Samantha from Sex in the City. She’d have to tone it down.
“What did he do?”
She shook her head. “I can’t even say it out loud. Lucas is going to be scarred for life.”
Nodding in an “aww yeah baby” way, he said, “It sounds like Justin did an A+ job.”
Gabby had never been so relieved to flirt. They were back to normal. Flirting at the office.
Markus stopped doing what he was doing. “Can we talk?”
“We are talking.” Gabby smiled.
He ignored her flip response. “You’re not going to back out of this mission, are you?”
She shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
Markus’s features relaxed. “Good.” His eyes were downcast. “I trust you. I haven’t been in the field for real since Darcy died.”
Gabby released her thigh stretch and stumbled. “That’s not entirely true. You were in the club the night we took Orlov down.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Gabby, let me walk you through that night from my perspective.”
“Oh-kay.” That had been a great night.
“That was the night you tranquilized me. It was my first night in the field after getting pulled because Agent Strong didn’t think I was psychologically ready after losing a good friend.”
She could see his point. “It wasn’t your fault. You trusted me, and I—”
“You tied me up and tossed me in a closet with a bunch of Russian Mafia.” He paused to let it sink in. “Gabby, you didn’t even have training, and you took me out of the game before it even started.”
“It wasn’t just you. I tied up Alice, and I tranquilized Valentina. I had to. I didn’t know who to trust.”
“I remember,” he said. “I was there. How many agents would have been able to pull that off?”
“Everyone underestimates me. That’s the only reason it worked.”
“That mission was a huge success,” he said.
With a smile, she acknowledged, “Yeah, I got a lot of congrats for that one.”
He held up a hand. “You did get a lot of congratulations. Do you know how much ribbing I’ve gotten in the office since then?”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you sure it’s not in your head? Ed just said he wished you’d hang out more.” How had she missed this? “I’m sorry. It probably didn’t help that I was brand-new.”
“Yep, and a foot shorter,” he reminded her. “With about a week of training.”
It was the first time she’d thought about that mission from his perspective.
She nodded solemnly. “I understand. I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget that you are even human. You are so confident and handsome.” She had been so wrapped up in her own world, what she needed, what her family needed, that she’d forgotten that Markus was a person with needs and wants and insecurities.
“I’ve got your back, partner,” she said.
“Same.”
This was a real mission with real people who depended on her. She had a job to do.
Valentina’s voice cut through the gym. “Agent Greene, my office. Now.”
Gabby startled at the sound of her boss’s voice.
Standing over them and tapping her toe impatiently, Valentina gave Markus an up-and-down look, stopping on his pants and then drifting to his muscle shirt. She shook her head with exasperation. “Markus, what are you wearing?”
“What?” He held up his hands defensively.
“We’re all onto the gray sweatpants trick by now. Quit playing.”
He feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do I need to start picking out your clothes again?”
With a hint of “na-na, na-na, boo-boo” in his voice, he said, “I get to dress myself these days.”
She gestured for them to follow her. Without even looking back, she volleyed, “I can institute a dress code.”
Gabby followed Valentina out of the training gym. With a glance over her shoulder, Gabby said, “I got you.”
The tension went out of his shoulders. Markus needed her.