Page 11 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)
CHAPTER SIX
The Birthday
Nicolette
“Happy birthday!” Artie yells into my face on the sidewalk outside the Butterfly Martini Bar in Manhattan. Then he grabs me around the waist and squeezes me tightly.
“My turn to hug the birthday girl,” Lehra, my other best friend, announces, pulling him away and embracing me herself.
My friends are very huggy, and it took me a while to get used to that when I met them a few years ago.
For a while, I did this weirdly stiff shoulder pat thing, but they just kept hugging me every time I saw them.
And now I relish the affection these two dole out and even return it.
“Thank you both,” I laugh as Lehra releases me. “You smell amazing.”
She sniffs her own wrist. “I do, don’t I?
It’s one of Hale Cosmetics’ fragrances. As soon as you told me you accepted the job offer, I went out and bought a bunch of their products in support.
” Lehra purses her lips, showing off a pretty peach lip gloss that suits her flawless pale skin. “Got this too.”
“Great color on you,” I tell her as we enter the bar, which also serves the best comfort food. The dim entryway is almost like a grotto, the darkness offset by neon-colored butterflies hanging from the low ceiling. I love this place.
“Can we be in Charmaine’s section?” Artie asks the hostess, and a minute later, we’re being seated in a round, purple leather booth.
“My husband texted that he’ll be a couple minutes late. He was tied up in a meeting,” Lehra tells me once we’re settled. There’s that H-word again, and I freaking love how excited she is about being married to Cruz.
I met Lehra a few years ago during my dermatology residency at Columbia.
My chief resident invited a few of the residents to attend a charity event at our hospital, and Lehra was there with a group from Bouvier, the fashion company where she works.
We were seated beside each other at dinner and immediately hit it off.
A week later, she introduced me to her friend, Artie, and they became my people.
“Let’s see what I want today,” I say as I pick up the card with the drink specials.
“You’re drinking during lunch on a workday?” Artie questions in surprise because I would normally never do that. Drinking and working in a laboratory don’t mix.
My lips roll into a smirk. “This morning I handed in my resignation, and Joyce panicked. Told me she would see about getting me more money and then went all conciliatory.” I raise my voice to replicate Joyce’s annoying tone.
“Gosh, you should take the rest of the day off since it’s your birthday, Dr. Bell. No, really. I insist.”
Artie strokes his ginger beard. “Isn’t that the same chick who griped when you were doing mercury testing and wanted to know what the planets had to do with cosmetics?”
I laugh. “Yep, that’s her. I honestly felt relieved when I handed her the resignation letter. I think this is the right move for me.”
“I agree,” Lehra says, but her smile holds a hint of sadness. “It’s bittersweet though because we’re going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” I tell her honestly. I didn’t have a ton of friends in school because I was so much younger than my classmates. Lehra and Artie taught me how to give and receive unconditional friendship, and that’s the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.
“We’ll just hijack the Bouviers’ private plane and come visit you,” Artie suggests with a flourish of his hand, like that settles it.
“I’m pretty sure that would get Lehra fired from her job,” I remark. Lehra recently took over as the personal assistant for CEO Auburn Bouvier when his previous one retired.
Charmaine approaches and greets us before asking, “What can I getcha?”
“Gimlet and the house salad,” I say, smiling up at her.
Lehra tilts her head and hums. “Ummmm, a Moscow mule for me and a sweet tea for my hubby. We’ll split a large order of the Irish nachos.”
Charmaine turns to a smirking Artie. “And what will your crazy ass have?”
“Loaded fries and…” He pauses dramatically. “A dirty martini.”
Our server puffs out a breath and a weary, “How dirty?”
His grin turns wicked. “I want it to be two syphilitic sheep fucking in an outhouse dirty.”
“Jesus, where do you come up with this shit?” she mutters, though her lips are twitching in amusement as she wends her way through the tables and back to the kitchen.
“I think we’re her favorite diners,” Artie announces, opening his satchel and pulling out a slightly wrinkled gift bag. “For you, babe. It’s from all three of us.”
“I’m here,” Cruz announces, setting down the box in his hand, squeezing his big body in beside Lehra, and gripping her chin before giving her a soft, lingering kiss on the lips. “Hi, wife.”
“Hi, husband,” she coos. They stare at each other like the world would end if they looked away.
“Dear god, cut it out! I’m getting the diabetes just from watching you two,” Artie whines, and the couple finally breaks eye contact with self-deprecating chuckles.
“Cruz, have you heard from Gianna or Auburn today?” I ask. “She called me yesterday to say she can’t make it for lunch because the baby is sick.” Gianna is married to Auburn Bouvier, and their daughter, Eliana, is only a few months old.
Cruz’s face pulls into a grimace. “Yeah, they ended up taking her to the emergency room last night. She has a stomach bug and the docs were worried about dehydration, so they gave her IV fluids and kept her overnight. Auburn said they got home early this morning, and she’s a lot better.”
“Aww, poor little thing. Are the twins sick too?” he asks, referring to the Bouviers’ eight-year-olds.
“Thank goodness, no,” Cruz replies. “They’re staying with Gianna’s dad and Tora so they don’t get exposed to the germs. Auburn hired a service to come deep clean the house while they had Eliana at the hospital.”
“In the middle of the night? I’ve never heard of a service that—” Lehra begins before shaking her head with a smile. “Never mind. I forgot they’re freaking billionaires.”
Which isn’t hard to do, especially where Gianna is concerned.
She’s a Texas girl who moved to New York and snagged the most eligible bachelor in the city, though she’s still one of the most down-to-earth people I know.
Of course she always dresses fabulously when they go to an event, but it’s not uncommon to see her in an old sweatshirt and holey leggings when she’s hanging out around the house.
Auburn, on the other hand, always looks the part of a wealthy fashion CEO, and I imagine his underwear probably costs as much as the GDP of a small country.
“Poor Eliana,” I say. “And her parents. I wish we could do something for them.” Gianna has become a good friend to all of us in the past couple years.
“I’ll send them a care package and put all our names on it,” Lehra offers. “Some food for Auburn and Gianna and Pedialyte for the baby. Oh, and there’s this fantastic baby wash and lotion with lavender that I found at a baby boutique downtown. That might help soothe Eliana.”
Cruz is looking at his wife like he’d love to toss her on the table and make their own baby right here in front of everyone, if that subtle lick of his lips is any indication.
Artie leans over the table and inspects something on Cruz’s face. “What is that in your beard? It’s pink.”
Cruz’s cheeks go tomato-red, and he scrubs at a spot near his jaw. “Just a temporary… uhhh… shit. I thought I got it all.”
Lehra giggles, her face also blushing. Artie’s face, on the other hand, is ripe with glee.
“You kinky fuckers were role-playing again, weren’t you? Give us all the deets. Who were you? Strawberry Shortcake?”
Artie’s eyes twinkle even as Cruz glares at him, but the conversation is stalled when Charmaine returns with our drinks.
I swear Cruz and Lehra have the most fun sex life of anyone I’ve ever met. They thrive on fulfilling each other’s fantasies. She told me once about a “viking warrior” who busted into her house and took her roughly against the wall. Cruz dyed his hair and beard for that one as well.
The big man with pink in his beard effectively changes the subject by handing over the large box he walked in with. “Here you go, Nic. When I talked to Auburn, he asked me to grab this from his office. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” I say, my heart thumping with grateful emotion. Opening the box first, I find a killer black blazer dress and red leather wedge sandals and matching leather earrings from Auburn and Gia. Lehra, Cruz, and Artie got me a gift card for a fancy day spa.
“You guys, this is way too much,” I tell them, my eyes bugging out at the dollar amount on the card.
“It’s enough for a one hour hot stone massage, a facial of your choice, and a hair treatment in the salon,” Lehra explains. “We wanted you to feel relaxed and fabulous for your move.”
“That’s… so sweet.” My voice sounds slightly strangled, and I roll my lips inward and bite down. I truly have the best friends ever.
“Food’s here,” Artie chirps, nodding toward Charmaine approaching with a tray. She distributes the food, sliding the Irish nachos between Cruz and Lehra.
“Have you decided where you’re living?” Cruz asks.
“I haven’t had a chance to look yet. You grew up in Galveston, right?”
He nods through a bite of fried potato piled with meat, cheese, and veggies. “Uh-huh. Just south of Houston, so I’m familiar with the city. You want to live in the suburbs or closer to work?”
“Close to work would be good.”
“The River Oaks and West University neighborhoods are the nicest, but homes there are in the seven-figure range, and it can be… stuffy.” Chewing thoughtfully, he adds, “Rice Village is great and has more character. I think you’d vibe well there.”
“Okay, I’ll check it out.”
“Lehra and I could fly down with you to look around,” he offers, and his wife gazes up at him like he hung the moon.