Chapter 22 – Mindy
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Joe the… billionaire?
Mindy
“You’re gonna make this new job your submissive little slut,” I say aloud, pumping myself up as I stand on the busy sidewalk.
“Fuck yeah, you will,” a woman in a sleek pumpkin-colored pantsuit and bushy black curls says as she walks by. Her smile is brilliant, and her raised fist tells me she believes in me, despite not even knowing my name.
Ah, Houston. Gotta love it.
I stare up at the mirrored building in the heart of the city, squinting against the sun so I can see the Hale Cosmetics logo at the top. The morning light glints off the metallic HC emblazoned in a delicate script over a silver crown.
This has always been one of my favorite buildings as I pass through Houston on the interstate. It's a bold blue with sharp, clean angles that come to a point at the top, as if it’s saying, “Hey, look at me! I’m full of awesome shit.”
I hitch my crappy little purse up on my shoulder.
It’s the old one I’ve been using since Twatface burned my other one.
Just the sight of this bag brings on a wave of anger, and I want to beat my soon-to-be-ex-husband with it.
I’ve never been prone to bouts of uncontrolled rage, but that was before I started going through divorce proceedings with Roger McCoy. And before he stole all my damn money.
I’m full of faux confidence this sunny Monday morning.
My suit is nice, not designer, but the quality is good.
This purse though… It looks like something I found while dumpster diving behind the 7-11, with its fake leather peeling off in patches like it has a skin disease.
It’s the seven-year-old purse of a broke college student, not a badass career woman, so I turn the worst side toward my body and march through the doors with my head held high.
Amanda, the receptionist for the executive level, meets me in the lobby and leads me to the elevator bank. I learn she’s in her forties, though she looks much younger, and has two kids.
“How did you come to work here?” she asks, putting a key card up to the scanner and pushing the button for the top floor.
“My Aunt Lorraine knew there was an opening and suggested I apply.”
“Oh, she’s the nanny for Phoenix Hale’s little girl, right?”
“Yes, I missed out on a lot of years with Aunt Lorraine because she and my mother were estranged. But I reached out after Mama died, and she was so kind to me. It’s still weird sometimes, but we’re working on reconnecting.”
“Aw, that’s sad about your mom. I’m so sorry. How did she die, if that’s okay to ask?”
“It’s fine,” I reply. “Pancreatic cancer. Once they found it, she went pretty quickly, which is common, from what the doctors told me.”
We reach the top floor and step out of the elevator. Floor-to-ceiling windows flank the left and right side of the lobby area, and a wide chrome reception counter sits directly in front of us with the Hale Cosmetics logo on the wall behind it.
“That’s my area,” Amanda says. “Feel free to come to me with any questions that might crop up. I’ve been here a long time.
” She gestures to a hallway to the left of her desk, leading back into what I assume are offices.
“That’s marketing down there. Phoenix Hale is the marketing director, and he’s a doll. And the CEO’s office is down here.”
“My aunt said Phoenix is really nice, though I haven’t had the chance to meet him.
” Crap, I probably should have taken the time to research the Hale family before today, but I’ve been a tad busy with all the bullshit.
Matching Amanda’s brisk steps as we enter the wide corridor to the right, I ask, “How long have you been here?”
“Twelve years,” she replies, pointing to an opening on our left. The nutty aroma of coffee fills the space, and my nose swoons. “That’s the coffee area and bakery. We have our own barista on this floor.”
“Wow. That’s a perk,” I say with a laugh. “I’ll definitely be taking advantage of that.”
“You want one now?”
Since I don’t have a coffee maker and I’m badly in need of caffeine, I accept, and we step into the space, which is open on both ends. The other side appears to open into the marketing hallway.
“Hi, Amanda,” a man says. He’s standing at the counter, tall and incredibly handsome, with dark hair and dimples. And he looks so familiar. But where have I seen him before?
“Phoenix, hi,” she replies cheerily before patting my bicep. “This is Mindy Espinoza. She’s your dad’s new assistant.”
“Phoenix Hale,” he says, holding out a hand for me to shake. I do, but I can’t stop staring at his face. Where the hell have I met or seen this man? With the bespoke cut of his suit, I’m pretty sure we don’t shop at the same stores.
“Very nice to meet you,” I say politely.
His mouth quirks up on one side, and he seems to be inspecting me as well. “You look very familiar. Have we met?”
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 hiss to Amanda once he’s gone.
She 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. What the fuck? 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.
My face heats as memories of that evening come flooding back. 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.
Though I’ve done my best to metaphorically sandpaper the man away over the past seven years, he left an indelible mark that could never be completely erased.
Hardware Joe. Why is his picture on this wall? A quick glance at the silver plate under his photo gives me the answer… and his real name.
Remington Hale
CEO of European Division
I’ll be damned. He’s not a hardware store owner after all. He’s a Hale, an executive at the largest cosmetics company in the world, and most likely a freaking billionaire. His lies reach so much farther than I ever expected.
“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 fucking brothers. Though Remington’s hair is a couple shades darker and he has brown eyes instead of blue, the family resemblance is obvious.
“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 his beautiful face. 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, even though my heart is beating so hard, it’s probably visible through my suit.
“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 turning 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.