Page 8 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)

“I’ve heard that Dior and Estée Lauder are also looking to hire for their labs this year, so I think we need to strike while the iron is hot. It’s not very often that someone like Dr. Bell becomes available.”

That’s true. What the fuck is Aquarius thinking by not doing everything in their power to hold onto someone with her qualifications?

“That’s not helping my stress levels, Abigail,” I warn as a headache begins to throb in my temples. “I know you’re wanting to retire before your first grandchild is born in a couple months.”

“I am retiring,” she reiterates firmly. “What if I do the initial interview with Dr. Bell on Friday? I mean, it’s almost a foregone conclusion that we’ll hire her, as long as she’s not a total psycho in person. She’s by far the most qualified person we could get.”

My face scrunches. “I don’t know, Abigail. Don’t you think it would be insulting if the head of the department isn’t even there to meet with her?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” she replies quickly.

“So just hear me out. I could explain about your trip and that you really wanted to be here, and if everything goes well, I could take her to meet your father. Don’t you think meeting with the CEO of the entire company would be impressive?

You know they usually keep us lab rats locked in our little science cave. ”

I can’t help but chuckle because it’s true. Our lab is housed in its own building next door to the corporate offices.

“Okay, I think that might work but let me respond to her email. I think a personal note from me might help to smooth things over.” Sometimes extremely brilliant people can be prickly, and I don’t want to blow this chance.

Abigail's voice trembles slightly, probably because she’s doing the shoulder shimmy she does when she’s excited. “I have a good feeling about her. I think she could be the one, Helix.”

Those words hit me in an odd way directly in the center of my chest, and I rub my fingertips across the spot. “I hope so, Abigail.”

After hanging up, I go to the back door and peer through the paned glass to check on the girls. They’re splashing in the pool, so I stick my head out to tell them I’ll be just another minute.

Then I carefully draft an email to Dr. Nicolette Bell.

Dr. Bell,

I’m so pleased to hear that you’re interested in joining us at Hale Cosmetics.

We strive to be the best in the industry in both quality of products and quality of life for our employees.

At our core, we are a family-run business, and we like those who work with us to feel like they are truly a part of the Hale family.

I understand you’d like to come for an interview this Friday.

That can definitely be arranged, though I will be out of town for the week.

I hate that I can’t be there to meet with you personally, but my lab manager, Dr. Abigail Blake, would be more than happy to conduct the interview and show you around.

Dr. Blake has been with the company for over a decade, so she can answer any questions you may have.

I apologize deeply that I can’t be there in person, but I have time-sensitive business at our London offices. I hope you don’t perceive this as a slight to you in any way. If you’d prefer to meet at a different time after I return, I’d be happy to schedule that at your convenience.

Feel free to email me at any time if you have questions or concerns.

I look forward to your reply.

Sincerely,

Helix Hale, PhD, Laboratory Director and Head of Research and Development - Hale Cosmetics, Inc.

I read over it again before hitting send. Then I walk out to the flagstone surrounding my pool and stride to the side, tucking away my professional persona and fully embracing my fun Uncle Helix side.

“Look out, girls,” I call, taking two long strides before launching myself into a ball over the water. “Cannonball!”

“I like these pajamas, Reecie,” I tell my niece, pulling the satin top over her head.

“I love dragons,” she announces like I’m not fully aware of that fact.

“Did you know there’s going to be a new football team in town? They’ll be called the Houston Dragons.”

“No way,” she breathes, her blue eyes going round. She looks so much like Phoenix when she does that.

“Yes way,” I retort, picking her up and tossing her onto the middle of my bed, where she bounces with a giggle. “And it’s a ladies’ football team.”

Reece scrunches her face and squeals, clasping her tiny hands in front of her chest. “Do you think we can go to a game? Huh? Can we? Please, please, please?”

“I think that could be arranged. Now get under the covers and read your book while I take my shower.”

She scoots beneath the dark-blue sheets and flops back onto the silky pink pillow I keep on my bed just for her. I kiss her forehead and go into the en suite.

When I return a few minutes later, Reece is looking at Azmina the Gold Glitter Dragon , which is book two in the Dragon Girls box set I got her for Christmas last year.

Even though she’s only four, she’s already reading at a first-grade level, thanks to her nanny.

Ms. Lorraine is in her sixties, a retired elementary school teacher with empty nest syndrome and a love of reading. Phoenix was lucky to find her.

I’m dressed in black pajama pants when I emerge and climb in beside Reece. Yes, she has her own room at my house, but I’m a sucker for her sweet little face, so I don’t even argue with her about it anymore. One day she’ll be too old to want to snuggle with her Uncle Helix.

“What’s this word?” she asks, and I wedge my arm beneath her head and peer at the book.

“Let’s sound it out. What is T-I-N-G?”

“Ting?”

“Yep, and when you add the rest it’s…” I watch as her lips move and her brain works through it.

“Tingled!” she exclaims. “Her fingertips tingled.”

“That’s right, doodle bug. Do you want to read the rest of it out loud to me?”

Seven minutes later, Reece’s words are coming slower and farther apart as her eyelids begin to droop. I take the book and place it on the nightstand before my niece rolls toward me and cuddles into my side.

Her shampoo gives off a sweet, fruity scent, and it sparks an idea. Our company makes high-end hair products for adults, but what if we developed a shampoo and conditioner line for kids? Maybe different formulations for straight hair versus curly hair, like Reece has.

I pick up my phone to make a note of it when I notice an email from Nicolette Bell. She replied that she’s happy to meet with Abigail on Friday and completely understands about the scheduling conflict. Feeling better, I dig into some research on the biochemist.

Damn, her credentials are impressive. Dual doctorate degrees in biochem and medicine. Did her residency in dermatology. Also has a strong background in microbiology. And she’s only thirty-three years old, a year older than me.

I also note with interest that she was the keynote speaker at the recent American Academy of Clinical Biochemistry conference.

I’m a member of the Academy as well—it’s by invitation only—but I hardly ever go to conferences or meetings, only enough to obtain some continuing education hours. I’m not exactly the social type.

I locate tons of photos of Dr. Bell, all with her hair in a prim bun and with black-rimmed glasses over her green eyes.

She’s pretty enough, though she appears to be very straitlaced.

Not surprising. The woman has more degrees than a thermometer, so it’s doubtful she has a secret wild side.

Not that I care about that. All I’m concerned with is that she’s qualified to do her job.

Removing my own glasses, I set them aside and turn off the lamp, hoping Dr. Nicolette Bell will fit in well with me and the rest of the team.