Page 37 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Stars

Medea

Murdering your boss has to be an HR violation, though I doubt it’s explicitly listed in the employee handbook. Maybe Cambria would understand…

No, even if the Mantissian was on my side—our head of HR was, after all, from an insectoid alien race known for culling any problematic males in their society—she couldn’t actually give me carte blanche for this.

Besides, it wasn’t like I could take out the massive Leonid looking at me disappointedly from behind his desk, anyways, not as an unarmed human. He was a giant, anthropomorphized lion and had the strength to match.

“The company parties have never been mandatory, Jarrick.”

He crossed his massive paws across his chest, completely unfazed by my protest. “They are when your team is celebrating a new partnership.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Jarrick sighed. “Medea, you’re going to have to face him at some point.”

“Not like that.” I blew my bangs away from my eyes, resenting them as much as this conversation. They were a bad post-breakup decision, now in a terrible stage of the grow-out process.

“The contract with him has a full year left; he’s going to be around the office.”

“I know, but that’s work. I can handle him in the office, talking about campaigns and ad buys. At a party? Not so much.”

Especially not when my ex would be at the party with his fiancée as the man of the hour, a recently signed deal partnering his firm with the company that pretty much ran this planet, the company I worked for.

I slumped forward in my chair, one of those uncomfortable office chairs that always seemed to be in every corporate space, even here, fifty light-years from Earth. Its matching sad, beige fabricked twin was to my left, on the other side of a nondescript brown side table.

“I've been thinking about putting in a transfer.” My voice was softer than before. I hadn’t spoken the idea yet, not even to myself, but it was there.

Jarax stilled, eyes narrowed. “To what department?”

“Back to Earth.”

A growl rumbled in his chest. “You are not leaving an entire planet because Jason is a worthless, cheating ass we are stuck with for a year.”

I felt the color drain from my face. Jason’s fiancée wasn’t someone he ended up with after me, but I didn’t think everyone knew that. She was, apparently, the woman he was seeing before, during , and after the time we were together—the one he never told me about.

“If you know the sordid details of my personal life then why make me go? It’s one night, Jarrick. Just a stupid corporate event.”

And If Jarrick knew… if he knew the mortifying details of how I came to be on this planet… then everyone knew. He wasn’t one for office gossip, which meant it made it to him last, if at all.

“I can’t let you languish about this anymore. That party will be good for your visibility within the company and to our partners. You can network, and even if I will do everything within my legal power to keep on this team because you are indispensable, I will not let you lose out on a career opportunity because of that sad, little man.”

His whiskers curled forward as he pursed his lips in distaste, tail flicking behind his chair with audible thumps when it hit against the wall. He huffed. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to think of a way out of this when you should be thinking about how to use this party to your advantage. If not for your career, then to prove to that bastard what a fool he is.”

“That’s not the point…”

“It’s not, but it doesn’t make it any less satisfying. Remember, it’s black tie and you’re encouraged to bring a plus one. Let him see how unbothered you are and how well you’re doing without him… even if you’re not.”

We stared at each other for a moment. I wasn’t going to win this argument, especially when I knew that he was right. I couldn’t hide from this forever.

“Fine.”

“Thank you. Now let’s get back to work.”

Having your boss, of all people, stage an intervention for your moping and avoidance was a sobering event, one that demanded tea. I grumbled under my breath, stretching up on my tippy-toes to riffle deeper into the mess of the break room’s cabinets, finally hoisting myself up so one knee rested on the black counter for leverage. Finally, I felt the tin I was searching for and grabbed it with a triumphant chirp, but the quick movement dislodged my balance. The sound morphed into a yelp as my back heel buckled, yanking me away from the cabinet.

Warm hands gripped my hips, pulling me steady in an embrace that was sickeningly familiar.

“Clumsy as ever, Medea.”

Jason’s chuckle grated my nerves in a way it hadn’t in the years that we were together. I opened my mouth to snap at him, but…

Let him see how unbothered you are.

Jarrick was right. Even if I still wasn’t really okay, still processing everything that had happened, Jason didn’t need to know that.

Instead of the barbed quip I had readied, I dipped my chin in the barest of acknowledgements. I focused on the tin of tea, sliding the pod of leaves into the machine and putting my mug in the designated depression on the counter.

“Welcome, Medea Mathis. Your selected Grain Milk London Fog beverage will be ready shortly.” The machine whirred happily, brewing my drink, but leaving me without further reason to ignore my ex.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jason leaned against the break room wall with a smile. When I only stared at him blankly, he huffed.

“Jarrick? Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled again, so proud of his joke. “I saw you come out of his office.”

“People do that from time to time, you know. Meet with their bosses.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. You looked like you had a lot on your mind when you left.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean. We were going over reporting.”

Reporting the dismal state of my life after him, but he didn’t need to know that.

The scent of warm, rich tea filled the room as my mug filled from the bottom up.

“Your beverage is complete. Please remove your mug from the station and enjoy, Medea Mathis.”

I could kiss the kitchenette—not really, dozens of people touched that thing every day—but my gratitude was still there for the welcome interruption.

“Oh good!” I snatched my mug, somehow managing not to spill. Offering a half-hearted cheers as a goodbye, I turned, but not before Jason’s hand came to rest on my shoulder.

“Medea, wait a sec! Did you get the invitation?”

And just like that, five little words shattered my resolve.

The invitation.

The one to his wedding .

To the woman I never knew existed, not when we were together. Not when he proposed to her after she told him she was moving to A4-23 for her career. The one said yes mere hours before he was back at my apartment, what I thought was our apartment, asking me to move here with him for his work.

It had all been a lie… and I was too foolish to see it. Too trusting of his late nights at the office, at his frequent work trips.

“Must’ve gotten lost in the mail.”

I couldn’t meet his eyes, not now. I spun on my heel to flee…only the step I took towards the door landed on a large foot instead of nondescript tile, the rest of me careening into a wall, tea first.

My precious brew covered me and the wall—which was not a wall at all, but a man’s chest—in scalding hot liquid. I hissed at the burn and moved to step back, but two large hands gripped my upper arms to steady me.

Not Jason’s this time. These were covered in black scales, tipped in gold claws that released me as the pit in my gut dropped further.

My gaze rose over a sopping wet, black button down, over the tendrils of smoke wafting in the air to their source: the enraged countenance of a dragonkin.

“Cal, I’m so?—”

“What’s wrong with you?” he growled, nostrils flaring with more smoke and orange eyes flashing in rage.

Everything, it seems.

Tears began to fill my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fall, not yet. I promised myself Jason would never see my tears again. I squeaked out a quick “sorry” and scrambled past the dragon, fleeing as I originally intended, now with extra helpings of mortification.

I stopped by my desk just long enough to set my tea down and then bee-lined for the restroom. The door snicked shut just in time for the first tears to fall.

The stall nearest me opened, Camphor’s surprised violet eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

“Oh… honey.”

She moved behind me, taking in my tears and soiled shirt in the mirror with a grimace.

I was… a mess. My eyes were already starting to puff up, nose turning red as I fought to stem the tears, but the worst of it was my blouse. The cream fabric was no longer opaque, the tea having made the fabric sheer enough to see almost everything beneath it.

Both my shitty ex and the office hottie I had secretly drooled over for a month—even if he did hate me—had seen my tits today.

“I look like a bad porno.”

Camphor choked on a laugh, fighting to maintain a look of sympathy. “It is quite the look for a Thursday. Do I want to know why you’re wet?”

I sniffled and sighed. “Cal.”

She looked at me over her shoulder as she grabbed towels from the dispenser, selecting two of the plain ones and one with stain removal properties.

“The dragonkin from Finance? He makes a lot of people wet, but not like this.”

I snorted. She wasn’t wrong. When I first started my new position, Cambria had taken me on an office tour. It was hard not to swoon over the seven foot tall, broad and brawny dragon, even when I thought I was happily dating someone.

I had marveled at his deep ebony scales, the way gold ones rimmed his eyes, nostrils, and horns, matching the gold of his claws. The same golden hue started under his chiseled jaw and continued down under his collar. Those burnt orange eyes glowed when they met mine, but when I waved a greeting, he had simply looked back at his computer, dismissing me completely.

Months of working together hadn’t changed that.

When I saw Cal, he either barked out terse answers to my questions or scowled.

Just like he did a few moments ago when I accidentally doused him with boiling hot tea. I recounted the incident to Camphor.

“He hates me. If he didn’t already, I’m at least positive he does now.”

She rolled her eyes at me as we continued to blot at my blouse. “Stop crying over spilt tea. I don’t think he hates you. He’s just kinda like that.”

She waved her hand, as if that explained it, before tossing the used towels in the receptacle. “Broody.”

“Maybe.” I looked down at my blouse. It wasn’t see-through anymore, and most of the stain was gone. I still looked disheveled, but this was as good as it was going to get.

“So… your ex is still a dick, Cal has the manners of a nesting curbish, and Jerrick has demanded your presence on Saturday.”

“And don’t forget, our aloof department head wants me to show up looking nice and with a date, because my sad-sack situation has reached even his fluffy ears.”

She perked up at that. “ Psh , that’s easy. You’ll look hot in anything, but I’ll find a dress and drop it by your place.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“Medea, we both know my wardrobe is better suited for hot revenge.”

“Touché.”

“Who are you going to take as your date? Have you been seeing anyone?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Well, I can fix that too.”

Camphor lifted her wrist, flicking open her holo screen. The flash of a camera blinded me for a moment and then she was typing away at her holo-keyboard, clearly on a mission. After a few flicks of her hand, my own comms unit buzzed with an incoming message. Shock permeating my entire being as I read the confirmation email.

“Camphor. Did you order me an escort?!”

“Of course, I did. What my work wife needs, my work wife gets.”

“You couldn’t just set me up with, I don’t know, a friend?”

She pointed a manicured finger my way. “Do you want to have a killer date with you for this party, or do you want to have a random man on a potential second date?”

“A total stranger though, Camphor? How am I supposed to trust them with this?”

“A professional stranger. One trained for this! They use code names so that you don’t have to disclose your actual name if you don’t want to. He’ll know what you look like, but nothing else besides that unless you tell him. I listed you as ‘Azure’.”

I blinked at her in question.

“For your eyes, silly. Besides, this guy, ‘Igneous’, is amazing. I've personally worked with him a few times—I even took him with me for that week's trip to visit my family so they wouldn’t try to set me up with anyone on my home planet. He’s friendly, charming, caring— perfect for this.”

She scrolled through the profile on my screen, showing off little details about the escort and his photos.

“It doesn’t have to get physical if you don’t want it to, Medea. The first time I hired him, nothing physical happened between us besides some hand holding for appearances.”

“I don’t know…” The idea of an escort or sex work didn’t bother me; I had just never dreamed that I would hire someone.

“Who else are you going to take? You’d have to ask someone from the office or your personal life, and we both know you mostly know people from work… people Jason knows… people you’ll have to see after the party.”

With the mention of asking someone from the office, Cal’s stupid, handsome face flitted through my mind.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Nope. That definitely wasn’t going to happen.

“Okay… I’ll give it a shot.”