Chapter 41 – Mindy #3
“This is… but… I… how did… where…” My mouth seems incapable of forming a full sentence as I look between the two men, who are grinning wildly. I kiss each of the cabbages like a weirdo before setting them aside, now having an idea of what’s in the rest of these bundles.
I open them one by one, squealing with delight at each treasure I uncover.
The crystal antique ones my grandmother received from her husband on their wedding day. A carved wooden set my great-grandfather made with brightly colored Mexican flowers handpainted on all sides. The ones shaped like blue baby booties someone gave Yaya the day my father was born.
They’re all here, and they’re all beautiful.
This box seems to be filled with the vintage sets, and I narrate each one for Antonio and Remi because they all have a story behind them. They listen patiently while I ramble about Yaya and what each piece meant to her.
“I can’t believe this,” I say, finally finishing up with the first box. I’d been so stunned and excited, I didn’t even think to ask the most important question. “How did you get these?”
“Ve have our vays,” Remi says in a horrible accent.
I giggle and cry at the same time, taking the handkerchief Antonio offers. “Thank you both so much, but seriously, how did you manage to get all this?”
“Antonio has a particular set of skills,” Remi says mysteriously.
“Like Liam Neeson?” I ask, dabbing at my eyes before tearing into the next box.
“Pretty much.”
Pausing, I look between the two of them and squeal. “Did you beat up Roger?” I’m not ashamed my voice holds a bit of glee.
Antonio grouses and jerks a thumb at our boss. “No, he wouldn’t fecking let me.”
“Hey, I’m just trying not to get us arrested,” he argues. “It was better to do it this way.”
“What way?” I press because these two are talking in riddles.
Remington sighs. “Someone—and I’m not naming any names—was able to get into Twatface’s bank account and find a transaction in the amount of exactly ten thousand dollars. It was easy to track down the buyer with that information.”
I lower my voice to a whisper. “Did you steal them from whoever bought them?”
“No, nothing like that,” Remi assures me. “He’s a legitimate collector, and I offered to buy them back from him. After I told him the story, he agreed.”
As I open the next box, a thought occurs to me. “Roger called me this morning, about to have an aneurysm because all his passwords have been changed. Do you two know anything about that?”
I raise one suspicious eyebrow, and the men share a look before both breaking out in grins. “What a shame. Poor little arsehole,” Antonio says, wiping a nonexistent tear from one eye.
Remi presses a hand over his chest. “I’m devastated for him. Truly.”
My smile is so huge my cheeks hurt, and I reach over to give Remi a huge hug before standing and doing the same to Antonio.
“Thank you both,” I say, trying not to cry again. “No one has ever done anything like this for me. You’re both at the top of my favorite people in the world list now.” My lips roll together, and I shake my head as words evade me.
As the tears inevitably make their way down my face, Remi grabs my hand and pulls me down to sit beside him on the leather couch, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“No one fucks with you and gets away with it,” he says in a voice so low only I can hear him. “I’ll always have your back.”
That only makes my tear ducts work overtime, and I bury my face in my hands, overwhelmed by these two and their probably illegal antics. I can’t believe they did this for me. Remi keeps his warm, strong arm around me the entire time until I finally lift my head and suck in a deep breath.
“Again, thank you both so much. I know they seem like just things, but you have no idea what this means to me.” I swipe at my cheeks with the soft handkerchief and turn to face my boss.
“I’ll give you the ten thousand dollars when I get it from Twatface.
To pay you back for buying these from the collector. ”
If affronted were a person, it would be Remington Hale. “You most certainly will not,” he snaps indignantly. “Unless you’ll let me pay you for the gloves and the golf ball.”
I indignant him right back. “No you won’t. Those were gifts.”
He smiles that smug-as-fuck smile of his. “And this is a gift, so take it, shut your pie hole, and finish unwrapping. Antonio and I want to see the rest of your collection.”
So I mumble something about a bossy-ass boss and do as I’m told. After months without them, it feels good to have my treasures back in my hands.
As I go through the other two boxes, I think the smile on my face is permanently etched there. And what is there to not smile about? It’s almost Christmas, I’m about a week from being divorced, and I have my prized possessions back.
Not to mention I live in an apartment that’s more luxurious than anywhere I’ve ever lived. I want to tell my boss he’s way undercharging me for rent, but I doubt his stubborn ass would listen.
In addition to all that, there’s something else brewing beneath the surface… something about the shift in my relationship with my hot boss.
And I’m not sure if that excites me or scares the absolute crap out of me.