Yeah, no shit. They’re all hot as fuck.
“It’s nice that Mr. Hale’s sons work within the company. Does he have other children?” My eyes itch to look back at that achingly gorgeous face, but I keep my focus securely on the woman beside me, even though my heart is beating so hard, it’s probably visible through my suit.
“A daughter named Perri. She works here, but she’s much younger, so she doesn’t hold an executive position yet.” Amanda begins walking, and I cast one more furtive look at the photo that’s turning my world upside down before following her.
I swallow hard and do my best to sound casual. “So Remington is the only one that doesn’t work here in the building?”
“Right. We rarely see him. He usually takes meetings online or by phone, but he makes an appearance here in this office maybe once or twice per year.”
Once or twice per year.That eases the nerves that have prickled the hairs on the back of my neck, and I make a mental note to save up any sick leave for when he’s planned to be in the building.Sorry, Mr. Hale. Cough, cough. I think I’m coming down with something. Achoo!
Yep, faking an illness. That’s my grand plan. Because I’m not sure what I’d do if I ran into Remington again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dad’s request
Remington
I’m just puttingon my suit jacket at the end of the day when Pauletta peeks her head in my office door.
“Glad I caught you,” she says in her soothing British accent. “Phoenix called and said he’s been trying to reach you, but you’re not answering.”
I reach for my cell in my pants pocket. “Shit. I think I forgot to turn my phone back on after that meeting. I’ll give him a call. Thanks, Pauletta.”
“See you tomorrow, sir.”
“Have a nice night,” I reply, already hitting the button for Phoenix’s number. He answers before the first ring has completed.
“Remi.”
I know immediately that something isn’t right. “What’s wrong?” I snap. “Is Reece okay? Did Jordie get hurt at practice?”
“No, it’s… It’s Dad. He’s had a stroke.”
My entire body goes numb, and I have no idea how my legs carry me to the anteroom outside my office. “Hold on a sec,” I tell my brother. “Pauletta, my dad is sick. Find me a flight to Houston as soon as possible. Tonight would be best. Get a charter if you have to.”
Her eyes are wide with fear as she nods, and I speak into the phone again. “Tell me everything.”
There’s a distinct sniffle in Phoenix’s voice. “His assistant went into his office and noticed his words slurring. She called 9-1-1 and got an ambulance on the way.”
“Is he…” I find the words difficult to push out around the bowling ball that’s wedged itself in my throat.
“He’s alive,” Phoenix replies, and I press a hand over my heart as I exit my office and jog to the lift.
“Thank god,” I breathe, pressing the button. It seems like the fucking car takes two days to arrive.
“The doctor said Mindy probably saved his life. She fed him aspirin while waiting for the ambulance to arrive.”
“Who’s Mindy?” I ask.
“Dad’s new assistant. Remember, we told you about her?”
“Right,” I answer. “You’re already at the hospital? What’s his condition now?”
“I rode with him in the ambulance. Mindy called me after 9-1-1, so I ran over to his office.” My brother sniffles again, and I have the overwhelming urge to hug him. And to be hugged back. “Yes, I’m at the hospital, and everyone else is on the way. He’s starting to get his speech back, and the doctors are optimistic.”
I speak to no one as I stride through the lobby and out to my waiting car to find Antonio standing beside it with the back door open. Before I can say a word, he says, “Pauletta called me. She booked a private charter, which leaves in two hours. We have time to stop by your flat if you’d like to change clothes and pack a bag.”
