Page 33 of Hale Yes
“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you, Dr. Bell. I just wanted to let you know I’m headed to lunch. I’m sure Abigail showed you when you toured, but there’s a cafeteria on the first floor with a nice selection. Everything from comfort food to more healthy options.”
“She did,” I say, giving him a friendly smile. “I’ll grab something in a bit when I’m done with this.” I bob my head toward the microscope.
Dr. Hale nods, his eyes dropping to my lips for a second before he jerks his gaze away. “I’ll… just be going then. You have my number if you need anything.”
He shrugs off his jacket, and holy beakers! He’s wearing suspenders. Like the glasses weren’t enough. Why does he insiston perpetuating this whole hot nerd scenario with suspenders as well?
I don’t miss the way the buttons of his baby-blue shirt strain across the wide expanse of his chest while he removes the jacket, and then he folds it over his forearm and turns to leave. My gaze is drawn to his very tight butt beneath the fine fabric of his gray pants, andthe audacityof this man to have such a brilliant mind while also being built like an athlete.
It’s a good thing I’ve sworn off science guys.
Twenty minutes later, I make my way through the cafeteria line, choosing meatloaf, steamed broccoli, and a side salad that looks super fresh. Turning toward the seating area, I’m suddenly taken back to my first day of high school as a twelve-year-old in the lunchroom with kids who were able to drive and some who were even old enough to vote. I feel like that girl again… the one with frizzy hair, a flat chest, and no friends. Though I do have boobs now.
“Dr. Bell?”
I twist my head to the side to find a man standing beside me holding a tray. I think I recognize him as an assistant in the microbiology lab, but I don’t recall his name.
“Hi,” I say.
“I’m Theodore Nguyen,” he says. “From the micro lab. Would you like to sit with us?” He tilts his head toward a round table with three other people sitting around it.
“Sure,” I say, trying not to let the relief I feel ebb into my words. “Thank you.”
Once we’re seated, I’m introduced to Grace Arnold, Ned Wright, and Isla Martinez. Grace has a PhD and supervises the microbiology lab, while Isla is Dr. Hale’s admin. Ned is a lab assistant and has the curliest blond hair I’ve ever seen and resembles a tall, skinny baby with his boyish, freckled face.
“How is your first day going?” Grace asks. She’s a pretty dark-skinned woman with black wavy hair that hangs down her back in a low ponytail. I love that this company doesn’t shy away from putting women in positions of power. It’s not always that way in STEM-based organizations.
“Very well. I think I’m going to like it here.”
“The perks are amazing,” Isla says with a glint in her eye, and she and Grace share a smirk.
“Yeah, the benefits package is impressive, and the work environment seems perfect, busy but not hectic,” I reply.
“That’s not the package they’re referring to.” Theodore wings an eyebrow at me and announces wryly, “Every straight female here is in love with Dr. Hale.”
“And some of the men,” Ned adds, his face turning the color of a McIntosh apple.
Isla rushes to add, “But we’re just looking. Dr. Hale is completely professional and would never get involved with anyone who works here. I’m not sure he even dates.”
For some reason, that both comforts and disappoints me. Before I can blurt out that odd thought, I shove a bite of meatloaf into my mouth and try not to groan at the savory flavors that burst on my tongue.
“Mmm, this is good. Better than my mother’s,” I declare.
“All the food is fantastic here,” Grace tells me. “They have a couple really good chefs that prepare the menus each day.”
By the end of lunch, we’re all chatting comfortably, and Grace and I end up in the elevator together. “It’s really nice to have you here, Dr. Bell,” she tells me, her smile soft and wide.
“It’s nice to be here. Everyone has made me feel so welcome. And please call me Nicolette, if that’s something you’re comfortable with.”
“Good, and I’m Grace,” she tells me before stepping off the elevator on the second floor. “See you tomorrow.”
The afternoon goes much like the morning. Dr. Hale is reserved and cool, though he’s not a dick or anything. Most of the workers are in quality control this afternoon, so there are only a few of us in the development lab.
Near the end of the day, I ask, “Are there any particular projects you want my help with?”
My boss rubs at the creases that have formed in his forehead and sighs. “Actually, I’m working on some things for the McNamara ad campaign. Jordie McNamara, the football player,” he clarifies. “Phoenix—he’s my twin brother and head of the marketing department—wants to play up her more natural looks. I’m struggling with the colors I want to use.”
“There are two of you?” I blurt out. I want to kick myself, but at least I didn’t voice my next thought: God help the women of Houston.
