Read Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) for Free Online Page A

could go scout it out this afternoon? I did a little digging online, and a lot of their stuff is still pretty pricey, but it’s more within Mr. Dixon’s range.”
    “Okay. We’ll head over after lunch. Does that work for you?”
    “Perfect,” she assures me as she stands. “I’ll let you get back to it. I should probably respond to some of the man’s emails.” She rolls her eyes, causing me to smile slightly before I watch her leave my office.
    She’s most certainly out of bounds, but that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy the view.
     
     

     
    When my alarm clock sounds on Monday morning, I’m quick to silence it. While I understand and appreciate the purpose of that incessant beeping tone, I can’t stand to listen to it a moment longer than I have to. As soon as it’s off, I turn over, surprised to find that I’m in bed alone. I’m usually not a horribly deep sleeper, but I didn’t hear Geoff get up and leave. As I sit up, I spot the note that he left me on top of his pillow.
     

     
    I draw in a deep breath and blow it out in a big sigh. Yesterday had ended up being a pretty good day for both of us. Monday usually comes with its own set of challenges, but I hope that being at work and having the opportunity to do what he loves all day simply serves as a reminder that life goes on. It must. Granted, I certainly don’t expect his pain will go away any time soon. It’s only been five days since the breakup, but he’s stronger than he knows. I think we all are. It’s like God made us capable of withstanding just a little bit more than we think we can.
    It isn’t until I climb out of bed that I smell it. Coffee . For just a second, I breathe in the evidence of a full pot waiting for me. Then, as I make my way to the kitchen, I curse Reeve under my breath for breaking my best friend’s heart.
    After I pour myself a cup, doctoring it the way I like it best, I sip slowly while I scroll through Instagram on my phone. I’m not really a big fan of social media. On the wrong platform, in the hands of the wrong people, who feel like they can say whatever the hell they want to whoever cares to listen—yeah, it’s a breeding ground for gossip and lies, which can lead to broken friendships and hurt feelings. In my experience, it’s like the digital version of high school, only worse…with grown-ups. Drama gone viral.
    No, thanks.
    However, the photographer in me could spend hours scrolling through Instagram. Most of the people I follow have no idea who I am, and I prefer it that way. Sometimes it’s nice not to know , but to simply see. I’ve come across some really amazing images in this app. Of course it’s not all art, but that’s what my eyes seek out the most. I make myself stop when my mug is empty, then I pour myself another and head back to my room to get ready for the day.
    I shower quickly, hoping I’ve left myself plenty of time to dry my hair. Before I get dressed, I apply a bit of leave-in conditioner and let it sit while I drink more coffee and pick out my attire for the day. I decide to wear my floral print, high-waisted, pencil skirt, a sleeveless, white top, with a pretty gathered neckline, and a pair of teal heels. I put on everything but my shoes before heading back to the bathroom. My hair has a date with my diffuser.
    I last all of twenty minutes before I give up, which isn’t bad. My record is thirty. In any case, the top half of my hair is dry and presentably wavy, so I move onto my makeup. It takes me all of five minutes to apply a bit of eyeliner, mascara, and a hint of blush. With one last cursory look in the mirror, I dub myself work-ready. I then slip into my shoes, grab my purse and my phone, and I’m out.
    My ‘98, red, hatchback Civic is already hot when I climb inside at eight-thirty. I roll the driver’s side window down, hoping that I’ll be able to get it back up when I reach my destination. Agatha, the name I gave my ride when I inherited it from my parents after