Page 9 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)

CHAPTER FOUR

He’s probably a bit of a dud

Nicolette

“Hey, I just landed,” I say to my friend Lehra when I step onto the concourse in the Houston airport on Friday at ten in the morning.

“Switch to FaceTime so I can see how gorgeous you look,” she says. Changing the call over, I see my adorable friend with her blonde curls and wide smile.

“Here I am in all my professional glory,” I say dryly.

“Let me see the fit,” she demands. “My husband wants to see too.” Lehra and Cruz Estrada recently got married, and she loves to say the H-word every chance she gets.

Cruz’s handsome face squeezes in beside hers. He’s Cuban, with brown skin and brilliant blue eyes, and he’s an absolute dreamboat. After her prior relationship, Lehra deserves a man who treats her like she’s everything, and Cruz is most definitely that man.

“Me too! I wanna see,” a familiar voice says in the background before our crazy friend Artie seats himself on Cruz’s lap with a flourish. Cruz just shakes his head good-naturedly as they all jockey for position. “Okay, show us.”

Stepping into an alcove, I pull the phone back and drift it down my body, showing off the new black suit I’d treated myself to for this interview.

“I’m just wearing the tennis shoes until I get in the car,” I inform them. “I have my black heels in my bag.”

“Oh my god, you look stunning. That lipstick is the perfect shade of red,” Lehra says, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin like a mom watching her firstborn head off to kindergarten.

“Agreed,” Artie chimes in. “It looks very professional… and not in a sex worker kind of way.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well that’s good since I was definitely not going for the hooker vibes.”

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead,” Cruz says with a small smile.

“Because she’s a fucking queen,” Artie adds with a snappy hand gesture.

I swear, these people are good for my soul.

Another voice I recognize hits my ear. “What can I get y’all today?”

“Oh, you’re at the Butterfly?” I ask, referring to the Butterfly Martini Bar in Manhattan.

Charmaine, our favorite server, somehow manages to wedge her face in among the others from behind their table. “Hey, girl. You headed to your interview? You look great.”

“Thanks, and yes. They’re sending a car for me.”

“Good. Kick some interview ass.” She bops Artie on the head with her butterfly-shaped notepad. “What do you want to drink, you little freak?”

I fight a grin as I await his answer. Artie always gets the same drink, but he… embellishes his order each time.

“Give me a dirty martini.”

“How dirty?” Charmaine asks, playing along like she always does. Last time we were there, he said he wanted a martini that was anal sex with a hobo level of dirty.

Artie’s lips curl up at the corners. “I want it to be as dirty as the inner rim of a gas station toilet after chimichanga night.”

Charmaine makes a gagging noise before taking the rest of the drink and lunch orders. Once she’s departed, Lehra leans her chin on her hand and returns her attention to me.

“Are you nervous?”

I wrinkle my nose. “No, just… anxious, I guess. I’ve been with Aquarius Cosmetics since I graduated, so going to a new company will be a whole new world.”

What if they don’t like me?

“They’re going to love you,” Artie says as if he can read my mind. “You’re the coolest nerdy bitch I know.”

That makes me laugh. “Thanks, but I need to go. I still have to find my driver.”

Cruz and Artie wish me luck, and Lehra blows me a kiss. “You’ve got this, babe. I’m so proud of you.”

She has no idea how much I needed to hear someone say those words to me.

Calvin, the man driving the town car that was sent to pick me up, is a burly red-haired southern gentleman with a deep, soothing drawl. He’s also an excellent tour guide, pointing out landmarks and attractions as he weaves through the Houston traffic and into the downtown area.

“Now down yonder is the medical center,” he says, pointing a thick finger toward a busy road.

I chose to sit in the front seat with Calvin rather than in the back, and I duck my head to see numerous hospital signs in the distance.

“Is MD Anderson down there?” I ask.

“It is,” he says, casting a glance toward me. “Are you… I mean, do you have… Sorry, I’m prying.”

His cheeks go ruddy, and I rush to assure him. “No, I don’t have cancer, but a friend of mine from med school did his oncology residency at MD Anderson. I know it’s ranked as the top cancer hospital in the country.”

Calvin nods in the affirmative. “It is. My mother had stage four breast cancer, and they saved her. She’s still kicking along, even at age eighty.”

“It’s wonderful that you still have your mom.”

“I agree. And here is Hale Cosmetics,” he informs me as we pull up to the curb. “The tall building has all the corporate offices, but you’ll be going into that one there. That’s the lab.” He points to the three-story structure to the right of the larger one.

Both buildings are made of blue mirrored glass, though the office building is at least ten stories with the Hale Cosmetics logo near the top. “Thanks for the ride, Calvin. And for the excellent conversation.”

“Of course. Stay right there, and I’ll get your door for ya.” The driver is spry for such a big guy, rounding the car quickly to pull open my door. “Good luck to you, Dr. Bell. I hope to see you again soon.” He tips an imaginary hat to me and grins widely.

“I hope so too.”

“Ah, there’s Dr. Blake. Isn’t she ugly?” he asks, gesturing toward a woman striding toward us from the laboratory building. When I gasp in surprise at his rude comment, he bursts into loud guffaws. “I’m the only one allowed to say that because she’s my sister.”

That relaxes me into a laugh, and I recognize the family resemblance as she gets closer. Dr. Abigail Blake has short, flame-red hair interspersed with gray, and her hazel eyes twinkle like her brother’s.

“Dr. Bell,” she greets, shaking my hand enthusiastically. “So pleased to have you here. I hope Calvin didn’t fill your head with any of his bull.”

“He told me he has the most brilliant and beautiful sister in the world,” I tell her teasingly, and she cuts her eyes suspiciously at a grinning Calvin.

“Hmm, I guess I’ll let him live another day then.” She rises on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll text you when we’re ready to go to lunch.”

“I interrogated Dr. Bell like you asked and learned all her secrets,” Calvin says in a mock whisper.

“Did you waterboard her?” Abigail whispers back.

“No, but if she didn’t fess up, I was going to make her listen to my entire discography of Willie Nelson until she spilled the beans.”

His sister shudders, and I laugh at their sibling banter. “That wouldn’t have worked on me,” I inform them. “I like Willie.”

“Ah, a woman of refined taste,” Calvin booms. “Hire her immediately.”

Abigail shoves his shoulder. “Go on, you big goofus. And thank you for picking up Dr. Bell.”

“You’re welcome to call me Nicolette,” I offer. Yes, I worked hard for my degrees, but I’m not one of those people who insists my colleagues call me doctor every time they address me.

Her already friendly smile warms by about twenty degrees. “Excellent, and you call me Abigail.” She gestures with a hand toward the mirrored glass front doors, and we begin walking. “I think you’ll fit in just fine here, Nicolette.”

I. Love. Hale. Cosmetics.

My interview went well—great, in fact—and we’ve just completed a tour of all three floors of the laboratory building.

Everything about this place is freaking fantastic, from the high-tech lab facilities to the people. The only drawback is the location. Due to the humidity in Houston, if my hair weren’t tamed into its customary bun, I’d be looking like a poodle right now.

But I can overlook the tragedy my tresses will be if I ever wear my hair down because the lab !

It’s seriously one of the best I’ve ever seen.

Judging by Dr. Helix Hale’s extremely formal tone in our email exchange, I’m guessing he’s a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, but the man does know how to organize and run a laboratory, so I can overlook that.

It’s totally fine because I’m not looking for a friend, just a colleague that respects me and my work.

“I thought we’d grab a bite of lunch, and then I’ll introduce you to our CEO,” Abigail says.

My eyebrows shoot upward. She’s going to introduce me to Haywood Hale? I’m pretty sure the CEO of my current company, Aquarius Cosmetics, has no clue who I even am. I passed him in the hallway last month, and he called me Nelda.

“That sounds great,” I reply.

“Do you have any specific dietary requirements or allergies?” she asks.

“No, I pretty much eat anything.”

Abigail leads me out of the building where Calvin is waiting beside the fancy town car. “Great. We’ll go to Pappadeaux. It’s seafood with a Cajun flair, and their bread is to die for.”

The drive to the restaurant doesn’t take long, and we arrive at a brick building with a wide patio that’s surrounded by a short, black, iron fence. When I suggest Calvin join us for lunch, he declines, citing his seafood allergy.

“We could have eaten somewhere else so your brother could have come,” I tell Abigail once we’re seated on the patio. It’s June, but the fans and the shade keep the Houston heat under control.

“He’s fine. He usually has lunch on Fridays with a couple of his old Army buddies at a burger restaurant.”

I smile. “He looks like a former military guy.”

“He was on the boxing team in the Army before he suffered a retinal tear. The docs repaired it, but they told him he could potentially lose his eyesight if he gets hit in that eye again.”

My forehead furrows with a wince. “Ouch. At least he listened to the doctors’ advice.”

Abigail shakes her head and smirks. “The stubborn fool would have kept right on fighting, but his superiors put a stop to it.” She greets our server warmly when she approaches and sets a basket of bread and whipped butter between us. “Thank you, Candice.”

We order our food and drinks. I’m tempted to get a mixed drink but decide against it since I’m technically still on an interview, so I get the same thing my lunch partner gets… sweet iced tea. When in Rome and all that.

“Do you like working at Hale?” I ask Abigail, and her smile is nothing short of beaming when she replies.

“I love it. I’d stay here forever, but my daughter is expecting her first baby soon.

Childcare costs are insane, so I decided to retire and focus on being the coolest babysitting grandma ever.

” She leans slightly across the table and lowers her voice.

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Nicolette?”

“Not at all.” Candice drops off our drinks and I take a sip. It’s not bad. A little sweet, but I think I could get used to it. “Ask me anything.”

“Why do you want to leave Aquarius?”

Ugh. This is a difficult question. It’s bad form to badmouth your employer while on a job interview, but I also want to be honest, so I choose my words carefully.

“I’m looking for a change in leadership.”

Her lips twitch at the corners as she reads my meaning without me having to spell it out. “Who is the director of your current lab? I know Dr. Tate retired last year.”

And that’s when my discontent began. I’d hoped to get Thomas Tate’s position when he retired, but I was passed over for the promotion.

“Joyce Davidson,” I reply, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“Hmm, I don’t think I know Dr. Davidson,” Abigail muses, pulling off a chunk of bread and coating it lightly with seasoned butter.

“She’s not a PhD,” I reply. “She has a bachelor’s degree in women’s studies.”

Abigail’s hands stop, and she gapes at me in amazement. “How is she qualified to run a cosmetics lab?”

I barely manage to hold back the “she’s not” that’s on the tip of my tongue and instead reply with what I hope is a neutral tone. “She’s the CEO’s niece.”

She slumps against the back of her chair and shakes her head. “I think I understand.”

I knew she would. Dr. Abigail Blake is a sharp woman. Changing the subject, I ask, “How is it working for Dr. Hale?”

Abigail’s face breaks into a smile. “He’s utterly brilliant. I’d say he’s fairly easy to get along with. Definitely demands the best from anyone who works there, but he’s fair.”

“Do you feel like he listens to you and is accepting of new ideas?”

Her head tilts to the side in thought. “Helix can be a bit stoic, but he appreciates innovation, no matter if it's his idea or someone else’s. He’s a man of few words, but I feel like he always listens to me.

I like to tease him that his ears work better than his mouth.

” Abigail eyes me over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip.

“Do you feel like you’re not being heard in your current job? ”

Again, a sticky question with an equally sticky answer. Aquarius hasn’t had a single new product line since Joyce took over a year ago. I have ideas, but she poo-poos them as unnecessary because things are going fine. Why mess with a perfectly good formula? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

So I temper my response and answer as diplomatically as I can. “I enjoy new development. I prefer to push through the stagnant old ways and discover fresh, vibrant new products that keep consumers interested.”

Abigail nods thoughtfully. “That’s Dr. Hale’s approach as well, so I think you two will mesh well. I appreciate your honesty.” She winks. “And your very diplomatic answer. Helix would appreciate that as well. He values loyalty above all else.”

Loyalty. Hence the reason I didn’t call Joyce a complete moron and say she’s running the development lab at Aquarius into the ground.

As the server sets my plate of Texas redfish with crawfish étouffée in front of me, I tell Abigail, “Dr. Hale sounds wonderful. I look forward to meeting him.”

Though in the back of my mind, I’m thinking he’s probably a bit of a dud.