Epilogue #2
I laugh, relieved. “I was just thinking the same thing. I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
He puffs out his chest. “I’m married to Jordie McNamara-Hale, the football player, so you might have seen me with her.” He winks. “My beautiful wife is quite famous.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a man look so proud to be married. It’s sweet, and a pang of jealousy strikes the center of my chest.
“That must be it,” I say, but that explanation doesn’t feel quite right. Seeing Phoenix gives me a swirly feeling in my stomach I can’t explain. Not attraction, though he is gorgeous. Maybe it will come to me later.
Amanda and I order our coffees from Ambrosia, the barista, and we stand around chatting with Phoenix about my aunt Lorraine and his daughter, Reece. And of course, his wife, who’s a tight end for the Houston Dragons.
“Just tell Dad if you want to come to any games. We have a private suite,” Phoenix says when he receives two cups of coffee. “Now I have to run. Charlotte will have my head if her coffee isn’t piping hot.”
“Who’s Charlotte?” I ask once he’s gone.
Amanda chuckles. “That’s his assistant, though she bosses him around so much we all joke that she’s actually the one in charge.”
“He does seem very easygoing.”
“He is. By the way, your coloring is amazing,” Amanda says as Ambrosia hands over our steaming cups. “Do you mind if I ask about your background?”
I get this question all the time. “My father was Latino, so that’s where I get my skin tone. Mama was Irish, and that’s where my red hair comes from. I guess my hazel eyes are a combination of both.”
We exit the coffee area and pass more office doors before taking a right when the corridor dead ends. Here, framed photos line the walls, and I inspect the faces as we pass. I’m impressed to see so many women in executive positions, though this is a cosmetics company, so I guess it makes sense.
My eyes flicker over a photo of Phoenix and then to the next one, where my feet stall. Amanda notices and stops too. She grins when she points at the pic. “That’s Phoenix’s twin.”
I swipe my brow dramatically. “Whew, I thought I was crazy there for a second.” I check out the silver name plate beneath to find that the twin is Dr. Helix Hale, and he’s Laboratory Co-Director and Co-Head of Research and Development.
He wears glasses, but otherwise, his face is an exact replica of the man I just met.
The next photo in line is of a woman, also wearing glasses and with the same title.
“That’s the other Dr. Hale, Nicolette. They’re married and run the labs together. They’re completely adorable,” Amanda informs me.
I move on to the next picture, and I swear, my heart almost falls out through my asshole and onto the floor. My fingers twitch with the need to touch his face, but I fist them at my sides. Brown eyes gaze at me from beneath stern eyebrows as my mind drifts back to seven years ago.
To our one perfect night. That’s what he called it.
And it was… until it wasn’t.
I can still remember every second of that evening. The way he rescued me in that nightclub. Our meal at Waffle House, complete with the requisite chaos one comes to expect with a late-night visit to that establishment. The conversations over greasy food and stout coffee.
And then later, at the hotel. The way his hands seemed to know my body, even though we’d only just met.
His soft brown eyes that never left mine when he was on top of me.
The feel of him pushing inside me. Our breaths warming each other’s lips.
Whispers that dripped with tenderness like I’d never known. The goddamn intimacy.
His words had been etched on my heart, though I’d done my best to metaphorically sandpaper them away over the years. But he’d left an indelible mark that could never be completely erased. Snippets of that deep baritone are rushing back into my mind like they happened seconds ago instead of years.
You’re the most captivating woman I’ve ever met.
I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go after tonight.
I’ve never felt this kind of connection with anyone before.
This is the start of something wonderful, Minnie. I can feel it. Please tell me you feel it too. Tell me this won’t be the last time we see each other.
Such pretty words. Ones I’ve been pretty effective at ignoring.
But what I haven’t been able to forget over the past seven years are the other words he spoke that night.
The absolute filth that came from that man’s mouth has served as spank bank material on my loneliest nights.
And I don’t hold one damn bit of shame about that.
A woman’s got to get inspiration where she can, right?
I knew him only as Joe, and he knew me as Minnie, a mistake I didn’t correct when he misheard me in the crowded nightclub.
After all, by the smirk on his perfectly curved lips, I’d had a feeling Joe wasn’t his real name.
And sure enough, a quick glance at the silver plate under his photo tells the real story.
Remington Hale
CEO of European Division
“That’s Remington Hale, the oldest brother,” Amanda says, startling me.
I’d been so caught up, I almost forgot she was there.
At least I now know why Phoenix seemed so familiar.
They’re goddamn brothers. Though Remington’s hair is a couple shades darker and he has brown eyes instead of blue, the family resemblance is noticeable.
“So, um, he works here too?” I’m impressed by the level of calm my question portrays, when on the inside, I’m a fucking ball of panic. I don’t want to ever see Joe, a.k.a. Remington Hale again.
Do I?
No, absolutely not.
I hate that my stupid mind is warring with itself. Of course I don’t want to see that prick again. It would be a disaster, one I have no intention of ever facing.
I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go after tonight. He’d sounded so sincere when he stared into my eyes and said those words that magical night. What if…
For fuck’s sake, Mindy, don’t go there.
“No, he used to,” Amanda answers, “but he moved to London a few years ago to take over running the European offices.”
I can feel her gaze boring into me, so I force myself to look away from the face that inspired me to name my favorite vibrator Joe. Her head is cocked to one side, so I force a smile onto my face and utter a quick apology.
Her grin is knowing. “Don’t worry about it. Most women have the same response when they see Remington. Or any of the Hale brothers, for that matter. They were definitely blessed in the genetics department.”
Yeah, no shit. They’re all hot as fuck.
“It’s nice that Mr. Hale’s sons work within the company. Does he have other children?” My eyes itch to look back at that achingly gorgeous face, but I keep my focus securely on the woman beside me.
“A daughter named Perri. She works here, but she’s much younger, so she doesn’t hold an executive position yet.” Amanda begins walking, and I cast one more furtive look at the photo that’s turned my world upside down before following her.
I swallow hard and do my best to sound casual. “So Remington is the only one that doesn’t work here in the building?”
“Right. We rarely see him. He usually takes meetings online or by phone, but he makes an appearance here in this office maybe once or twice per year.”
Once or twice per year. That eases the nerves that have prickled the hairs on the back of my neck, and I make a mental note to save up any sick leave for when he’s planned to be in the building. Sorry, Mr. Hale. Cough, cough. I think I’m coming down with something. Achoo!
Yep, faking an illness. That’s my grand plan. Because I’m not sure what I’d do if I ran into Remington again.
Two weeks later, I’m settling in nicely at Hale Cosmetics.
I’d worried Remington would call the office to speak with his father and I’d have to disguise my voice, but when I asked Mr. Hale how I should handle calls from his family, he informed me his wife and kids always call him directly on his cell.
So I’ve dodged that bullet, though I’m pretty sure Remington wouldn’t even recognize my voice after this long. I doubt he’s given me a second thought. I was just some rando he fucked one night.
I still don’t want to see him though. If he did recognize me, it would be awkward as hell after the way I ghosted him, and I don’t need that in my life. I’ve got enough shit going on. The apartment I moved into is crappier than my purse, so I actually look forward to going to work every day.
The people here are amazing, and I’ve taken to the job like a duck to water. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty damned good at it.
For the first week, despite what Amanda told me, I was convinced Remington Hale was going to pop up from behind a potted plant and yell, “Gotcha!” Followed by, “You’re fired.”
And I can’t let that happen because I need this job. Desperately.
I’ve finally calmed down and put that man out of my mind. I avoid even looking at his photograph in the hallway, though goosebumps rise on my back every time I pass it, almost like those soulful brown eyes are following me.
With my whole sick leave plan, I’m fairly certain I can get away with never seeing him again. But you know what they say about the best laid plans…
“Mr. Hale, here are last quarter’s projections you asked for.” I stride into his huge office and set the folder on his desk.
“Thank you, Mindy,” he says, though his voice sounds strange, the words coming out more like, “Tank oo, Minnie.”
I focus on my boss, noting with alarm that his face is drooping on the right side.
“Mr. Hale, are you all right?” I step around his desk and notice he’s flexing his right hand.
Again, his words are a little garbled. “My han is sheep. Head hurs too.”
“Your hand is asleep, and your head hurts?” I ask gently, already reaching for the phone on his desk as he nods.
I press three digits, and a dispatcher answers, “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”