Chapter 35 – Mindy
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
God, I miss Joe
Mindy
This phone is driving me crazy. I’m not sure if it’s a full moon or what, but the calls have been incessant this afternoon. And I feel like a damn elephant is sitting on my bladder.
I finally catch a break around 3:45 and stand up from my desk, prepared to sprint down the hallway to the restroom. But of course, my boss chooses that time to stick his head out of his office.
“Ms. Espinoza, can you come in here for a second?”
Shit. “I, uh, sure,” I agree, doing a kind of squeezed-leg penguin walk into his lair.
Remi loosens his tie and nods toward the leather chairs in front of his desk. “I wanted to chat with you before the massage therapist gets here. You can sit.”
“I’ll stand,” I say because seriously, if I sit down, I’m positive pee will leak out when I try to stand back up.
He frowns but doesn’t comment as he continues removing his tie. “I went to Whisk and Whimsy today.”
“Oh,” I say, half my mind thinking ‘Oh crap, I’m in trouble’ and the other half thinking ‘Wrap it up, dude. I’m about to piss my drawers.’
He lowers his gaze to where I now have one leg crossed over the other, and I’m bouncing slightly. “What the hell are you doing with your legs?”
“I have to pee so bad, my eyeballs are turning yellow,” I blurt out. “I’ve been holding it for hours.”
My boss rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, go to the bathroom. You can use mine.” He waves a hand toward the dark paneled door to my right.
“Oh my god, thank you,” I gush, waddling to the door and yanking it open.
I barely get it closed before I’m jerking up my skirt, pulling down my panties, and diving onto the toilet.
“Ahhhhh, sweet, sweet urination,” I groan as my bladder finally releases.
I’m pretty sure I hear a snicker from the other side of the door. I don’t give a fuck.
When I’m done, I right my clothing and wash my hands at the sink, taking a good look around for the first time. I’ve only glanced in this room once, and that was when Haywood Hale pointed it out while giving me a tour.
The decor is a gorgeous ivory marble with burnished brass sink and light fixtures. Besides the sink and toilet, there’s a full-sized shower with pretty metallic tiles in shades of brown. Copper towels and washcloths hang from a rack beside it, and a matching fuzzy bathmat rests beside it.
I glance into the mirror in front of me and kind of want to take a selfie. The lighting surrounding the enormous mirror is fantastic. My dark circles are barely visible, and I look nothing like a woman who almost just peed on her boss’s floor.
A delectable aroma reaches my nose, and I realize it’s the hand soap I’m using. Lifting my hands to my face, I sniff. The scent is decidedly male and so very… Remi.
Ugh, stop acting like a weirdo, I scold myself, rinsing my hands and drying them on the hanging hand towel.
“Thank you,” I tell my boss upon exiting.
By the smile on his face, I’m not sure if he’s amused by my urination emergency or if I’m in trouble.
He did say he went to Whisk and Whimsy, so it’s probably the latter.
So I preempt his lecture and my possible firing.
“I realize I have a non-compete clause, but it only pertains to working for another cosmetic or fragrance company. I checked. There’s nothing in there about working at a bakery,” I say defensively.
“You’re not in trouble,” he says, still looking amused.
“Then why is that thing on your face?”
Remi swipes at his beard with one hand. “What thing?”
“Is it… could it be…” I gasp and lower my voice to a theatrical whisper. “A smile?”
Said smile widens and then morphs into a laugh. A real, genuine one. And it makes me laugh too. Memories of that night come flooding back, and I remember how easily we’d talked and laughed together. God, I miss Joe. But now I’m catching a glimpse of him behind Remington Hale’s eyes.
His laughter dies off as he begins to unbutton his shirt. I try not to gawk. Really, I do, but I’m a mere mortal woman, and this man is fine as hell. “Why didn’t you tell me you made those cookies?”
I bite into my bottom lip and shrug. “I don’t know. I just started bringing them and it never came up.”
“And they’re all your recipes?”
Nodding, I avert my eyes but not before catching a flash of ink over his ribs now that his shirt is unbuttoned.
“My Aunt Lorraine and I used to make cookies when I was little, and it was my favorite thing to do.” Remington removes his shoes, and I wonder if he’s going to do a full strip tease for me.
I know he’s just getting ready for the massage therapist, but a girl can dream.
“She taught me a lot, but after culinary school, I started tweaking some of her recipes and making up ones of my own.”
“They’re fantastic. By the way, I set up a business account to pay for the cookies. Clarissa said she will pay you extra since you’re not going to be taking the free ones every day.”
My eyes widen at this news. At thirty dollars extra every weekday, that adds up to roughly six hundred dollars a month. It might not sound like much to some, but it gives me a bit of a cushion and knocks down my money worries a lot.
“That’s really nice of you, but I don’t want you to think you have to do that. I bring them because I want to.”
Remi rolls his eyes. “Hello… I fucking love those cookies. I’ve started adding a mile to my run every day just so I can eat them without feeling guilty. And it’s my company’s responsibility to provide perks to our employees, just like the free coffee, scones, and croissants in Ambrosia’s place.”
“When you put it like that, I guess it makes sense.”
He sits down to take off his socks. “Of course it does. I said it.”
“And you’re the boss, so you’re always right,”
“See? Now you’re getting it,” he says, ignoring my sarcasm with a playful grin.
I really shouldn’t find that kind of arrogance attractive, but here we are.
“Well, thank you for the cookie thing. I appreciate it.”
He stands barefoot with his shirt half open, and I really need to get the hell out of this room.
“Any time there’s something you think will boost the morale of the employees, let me know. And if it’s under… oh, let’s say a thousand dollars, just do it and put it on the expense card.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Okay.”
“I’m going to take a quick shower before Bennett gets here. After you let him in, you can lock up and take off early. Have the switchboard handle any phone calls.”
“I don’t mind staying,” I argue, and he cups a hand behind his ear.
“Excuse me? Who’s the boss here?”
I roll my eyes in mock disgust and reply flatly, “You’re the boss, Mr. Hale.”
He nods. “I think I’ll have that printed on a T-shirt for you.”
“Good. I can use it to wash my car.”
His laughter follows me as I flounce out the door. I rather enjoy the flouncing. I think I’ll do it more often. It’s much more satisfying than the penguin pee walk.