Page 116 of Hale Damage
MyI don’t have a savior complexclaim is put to the test the week before Christmas. The office is swarming with supply chain issues for the upcoming spring line as well as a rush to get products to stores for those last minute Christmas shoppers. Preliminary finance numbers are up though, which I’m able to happily report to my father.
I’m feeling great when I enter on Monday, anticipating which snarky name Mindy is going to call me today. Friday had beenYour Massive Royalness.
“Good morning, Ms. Espinoza,” I say on my way by her desk.
“Morning,” she replies somberly, not even looking up from her computer, and my footsteps falter. I pause, waiting for more, but she says nothing else. Continuing into my office, I get to work, but a frisson of unease flows through my veins as I check through the emails Mindy sorted and forwarded to me.
When I’m done with the emails and my daily cookies and coffee, I return to her area, perching on the corner of her desk as she expertly wraps up a phone call while simultaneously flipping through some papers in her hand.
“How’s everything going?” I ask.
“Fine,” she replies, and I don’t like the tightness in her voice.
“Everything okay with the apartment?”
Her head is down, the red curtain of her hair shading the side ofher face. “It’s great. Thank you for letting me know about it.” She sniffles at the end of the statement, and my gut tightens.
“Are you sick or something? You know you get sick days, right?”
“I’m fine,” she says, not sounding fine at all.
I sit there like an awkward bird perched on her desk as she keeps her head down and pages through whatever report she’s looking at. Finally, I say, “Mindy, look at me.”
She makes a huffy sound in her throat. “I told you I’m fine.”
“And I told you to look at me.” My words are soft but firm, and when she finally lifts her head, some kind of animal rises inside me. Something large and ferocious like a bear.
Her eyes are red-rimmed, and while currently dry, it’s obvious she’s been crying at some point this morning. The grizzly inside me wants to rip apart whoever did this to her.
Reaching across her desk, I pick up the phone and dial. As soon as the executive-level receptionist answers, I say, “Amanda, this is Remington Hale. Ms. Espinoza is handling something for me, so can you field any phone calls coming in?”
“Of course, Mr. Hale. I’ll get the switchboard to reroute them to my number.”
“Thanks,” I say, hanging up and looking down at my assistant. “My office. We’ll talk in the lounge area.”
Then I stand and walk toward the corridor, calling back over my shoulder, “Now, Ms. Espinoza.” I smile when I hear the adorable snorting noise of annoyance because I also hear the sound of her chair pushing back and the stomping of her heels on the floor.
I return a couple minutes later with a caffè latte in one hand and two lemon butter cookies in the other. Mindy is seated on my couch, head down again as she picks at the cuticle of one thumb. Setting down the offering, I take the spot beside her.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, still working on that nail.
I still her hands and replace her fidgeting with the cup of coffee. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Take a drink and tell me what’s bothering you. If it’s something work-related…”
“It’s not. Everything is fine with work,” she quickly says.
“Butsomething outside of work is not fine?” I surmise, glad when she sips on the coffee.
Her hair is still curtaining one side of her face, and I brush it behind her ear so I can better see her. She doesn’t startle at the intimate touch but leans into it for a brief second, eyes closing.
“I’m going through a divorce.”
I swear on my Brioni shoe collection, if she says she misses her ex, I might puke. “And you’re having second thoughts?” I ask tentatively.
Her head whips up, those red locks catching fire in the winter sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my corner office.
“Fuck no,” she spits. “I’d like to punch Twatface in his non-existent balls.”
Ah, now we’re getting to the crux of the matter. “What did he do to you?” I grit out through my teeth.
