CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The great cookie revelation
Remington
I’ve givenAntonio the day off to take care of some personal business, so I walk alone to work on a blustery Tuesday morning. I reside in the penthouse of the building I purchased because it’s right behind the Hale building.
Despite me telling him I’m perfectly capable of walking through the parking lot by myself, Antonio always insists on showing up at my penthouse to escort me. I’ve given up arguing with the man at this point. But today, I’m rather enjoying the solitude.
The early morning November air is brisk and cold, and I wrap my black wool trenchcoat tighter around me as I approach the back door of the Hale offices. My eyes fall on Mindy’s designated parking spot, and my heart drops. Her blue Mazda hatchback is missing.
“This is a good thing,” I mumble to myself. “She’s going to be late again, and then you can legally fire her.” But I can’t get rid of the sinking feeling in my gut.
The reality is, she’s a fan-fucking-tastic employee, and if I’m being a hundred percent honest, I don’t want to fire her. But then I remember she threatened me with a sexual harassment suit, and I blow out a breath, watching it crystallize into a fog in the cold air. I’m not sure I trust her not to threaten me with that again. I mean, I don’tthink she would actually do it, but can I really take that chance with my company? And my dad’s health?
I dawdle in the lobby for a bit, chatting with Carla and Marla, the downstairs receptionists, all the while keeping my eye on the elevator bank. She never appears.
Okay, man, just do this. This is exactly what you’ve been wanting to happen.
Removing my coat and draping it over my forearm, I say goodbye to Carla and Marla before taking the elevator up to the top floor. I’m the CEO of a huge company, and sometimes, as the boss, I have to do hard things. And firing Mindy Espinoza definitely falls into that category.
Once upstairs, I stall further by stopping in to see Ambrosia for some coffee. There won’t be cookies because Mindy isn’t here yet, except…
My gaze falls on the glass cookie stand, where a mound of lemon butter cookies are prettily stacked.
“Is, uh, Ms. Espinoza here already?” I ask as casually as I can manage.
“Of course. She’s been here for almost thirty minutes. But don’t worry, Mr. Hale. I saved you three cookies.” A sense of relief washes over me, and it has nothing to do with the cookies.
“Thanks,” I say absently, taking the plate and coffee before heading to my office. Sure enough, my assistant is at her desk, already hard at work. She looks up when I approach, and I wait to see what she’s going to call me today.
“Greetings, Marquis of Hale-Ville,” she chirps, and I have to chuckle at that one.
“Good morning, Ms. Espinoza.”
I go into my office with a stupid smile on my stupid face.
“Your 11:30 canceled,” Mindy says from the door of my office. “He’s got the flu, so I rescheduled him for two weeks from now.”
“Thanks,” I say, looking up from the laboratory report Helix emailed over an hour ago. “I have some questions about this report, so I think I’ll go over to the lab building and talk to Helix and Nicolette about it. They’re so fucking smart I feel like I need a translator when I’m trying to read their science stuff.” I rub a hand down the back of my sore neck. “At least when I talk to them in person, they can see the confusion on my face, and that reminds them to talk to me in laymen’s terms.”
She laughs. “Good plan. You don’t have anything else until two.” Her eyes narrow on my hand at the back of my neck. “Would you like me to book you a massage?”
“Actually, yes,” I say, pulling up the Task-Pro calendar. “Looks like my meetings will be wrapped up at four, so if they could come here to the office, that would be great. I have that call with Asia at six.”
“No problem,” she says easily, making a note in the floral notebook she always carries around. “Do you prefer a male or female massage therapist?”
“Uh, let’s do a male. They seem to be able to get in there a bit deeper.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Deeper is always better,” she says with a cheeky wink before disappearing, leaving me with a cock that clearly noticed her innuendo.
“Dammit,” I curse, adjusting myself beneath my desk. That woman is going to be the death of me.
After meeting with my brother and sister-in-law, I walk down to a local deli for lunch. It’s still cold outside, but the morning chill is gone, so I’m comfortable without my coat.
Stepping out of the deli, my gaze catches on a sign across the street. Whisk and Whimsy. And the sign has pink clouds, just like the boxes I’ve witnessed Ambrosia removing cookies from in the mornings. This must be where Mindy gets them.
Glancing both ways, I cross to the bakery and open the door. Alittle bell tinkles, and the sweet smell of sugar, vanilla, and all other manner of good things hits my nose. Cake displays line the lefthand wall, and they are stunning, the intricacy leveling them up to something more like art than baked goods. I approach the case near the counter and see a variety of cookies and brownies. Including a few peach pie cookies.Jackpot.
