The Reinvention of Mimi Finnegan (The Mimi Chronicles Book 1)

by Whitney Dineen

  For reasons I choose not to ponder, I take extra pains with my appearance this morning. I wake up an hour early so I can do both a blow-dry and Velcro rollers. I even stopped by Saks yesterday and bought a new outfit, which wasn’t on sale. If that isn’t a clear giveaway that I’ve lost my mind, I don’t know what is. The only other time that I’ve ever shopped at Saks Fifth Avenue was to buy mascara and that was somewhat of an emergency.

  I have been getting appreciative glances from my coworkers all morning and instead of giving me the normal self-esteem boost, they are constant reminders I did it all for Elliot. By two o’clock there is still no sign of the Englishman and I ever so slightly start to relax. The feeling lasts until two-o-three when Marcus calls me into his office. I’ve hardly seen my boss in the week-and-a-half I’ve been here as I’ve been so caught up in the Shimmer campaign. I initially look forward to seeing him so I can tell him how much I love it here. That is until I walk into his office. On step two I stop dead in my tracks as I lay eyes on the great heartbreaker himself, Elliot Fielding, in the flesh, so close I could throw myself into his arms. Have you gathered how his appearance is affecting me?

  Elliot looks amazing from his tasseled loafers right up to the navy blue sports coat he has casually paired with slightly faded Levi’s. My body starts to release pheromones the very nanosecond I lay eyes on him. I feel so alive and turned on I’m afraid everyone in the entire building can feel the atmospheric change. When Elliot looks at me, it’s all I can do to keep myself upright and dressed. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen him last but it feels more like two years.

  Marcus smiles when I walk in and greets, “Mimi, come in! Of course you know Elliot.”

  I look at Elliot and force a smile, “Elliot, it’s nice to see you again.”

  He takes my hand and (oh God, he kisses it!) and murmurs, “Mimi.”

  I’m torn between vastly conflicting emotions, I want to either scream, “Keep kissing me damn it!” or punch him in the mouth. In the end I simply sit down across from Marcus and wait to see why I have been summoned.

  I don’t have to wait long as my boss declares, “Mimi, I know you are aware that Elliot’s next legal thriller is set in a public relations office.” I nod my head all the while feeling the icy fingers of dread grip me. “He has spent a good amount of time in our Pipsy office,” I nod my head. “And he feels that he could benefit from spending some time here, observing us as well.” Then he asks, “Isn’t that exciting?”

  If he only knew how exciting it really was, but I merely nod my head again and ask, “How long will you be joining us, Elliot?”

  He smiles like a tiger just released in a bird sanctuary and declares, “Until I’ve finished my research.”

  Hoping against hope this announcement is the only reason Marcus called me in, I stand up and smile, “Well, thanks for filling me in, Marcus.” Then to Elliot I add, “Good luck with the book.”

  As I attempt to leave, my boss continues, “The reason I asked you in Mimi is I had hoped that you’d be willing to share your office with Elliot. We don’t have a vacant spot for him at the moment and being the two of you have worked together in the past, well, I had hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

  Mind sharing an office with Elliot Fielding?! It’s like offering to let a drug addict baby-sit a stash of cocaine. Even though part of me is infuriated by Elliot’s machinations, I am too aroused by the sight of him to acknowledge my anger. So I simply answer, “Of course I don’t mind.” To Elliot I add, “Shall I show you my office now?”

  Elliot agrees and shakes hands with Marcus on the way out the door. When we’re alone, he leans down and purrs in my ear, “You look gorgeous.”

  I don’t answer as I’m afraid I will spontaneously combust if I so much as open my mouth. His scent alone is wreaking havoc on my equilibrium. I lead the way to my room at the end of the hall and once we get inside, I immediately close the vertical blinds facing the outside corridor. Then I close the door, lock it and jump into Elliot’s arms before he knows what’s hit him.

  With my mouth on his I hiss, “How dare you! How dare you worm your way into my life again!”

  Elliot kisses me back with matching intensity. He pulls my blouse out of my skirt and runs his hands up my bare torso. When he reaches my chest, he pinches me and growls, “This is how I dare!”

  I have never in my nearly thirty-five years felt such extreme passion. Elliot unbuttons my shirt and pulls off my bra while I rip off his jacket and shirt, popping at least three buttons as I go. His mouth is all over nipping and kissing and loving me. Elliot pushes my skirt up to my waist as he lifts me onto the top of the desk. My whole body nearly splinters apart when I feel his insistent fingers tug at my panties. My hands move of their own accord to the waistband of his jeans. I slowly and deliberately release the buttons. I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t have him right this second.

  As I tug his jeans down, there is a knock on my door and I freeze mid-action. I somehow manage to take a breath and ask, “Yes?”

  “It’s Helena, I have the revised seating chart for the luncheon.”

  Elliot whispers, “Get rid of her.”

  I whisper back, “I can’t. She’s in charge of the project.”

  He demands, “Get rid of her.”

  Helena calls out, “Mimi, is something wrong?”

  Elliot is not stopping his assault on me and I somehow manage to reply, “Can I meet you in your office in a minute, Helena?”

  She answers, “Okay, I guess,” at the same time that Elliot lays me back on the desk and consummates our union. I want to scream at him to stop, I want to rail at him for not asking me to marry him. I want to cry at the injustice of it all. But in the end I simply surrender to the exquisite pleasure splintering through my body.

  Elliot holds me tight and declares over and over again his love for me. It is then I realize I will always belong to him and I will never be able to be more than Richard’s friend. Even if Elliot goes through with his marriage to Beatrice, I will never feel this depth of emotion for another man and Richard is simply too good of a person to wind up with leftover love. Damn Elliot for doing this to me. Damn him for making me love him so much!

  Chapter 39

  After my episode with Elliot two days ago, I pretty much move into Jocina’s office with her. I need time away from the Englishman so I can try to regain my sanity. I tell myself over and over again that he is not available to me and I have to let him go. But apparently I refuse to believe this and continue to fantasize about a future together. Of course it doesn’t help that I see him everywhere I go. Luckily, we were never alone again so there isn’t a replay of the scene in my office.

  Richard and I are having dinner tonight and I’m going to tell him we can never be more than friends. I’ve shed a tear or two over this and I won’t blame him if he opts out of my offer of friendship all together. I would miss him beyond words, but it really isn’t fair of me to expect him to be everything I want without returning the favor. My greatest fear is I’m going to wind up without either one of these men in my life. But basic humanity won’t allow me to keep leading Richard on.

  When Richard arrives at my apartment at seven-thirty, he looks wonderful, but my heart doesn’t do any of the crazy flip-flopping it does when I lay eyes on Elliot. Richard kisses me hello and hands me a bouquet of pink tulips. He greets, “I would tell you that you look gorgeous but the truth is you look strung out. What’s up?”

  I laugh in spite of myself, “I was going to wait to tell you at dinner.”

  Richard gets very serious and rejoins, “Oh, no. I’m a firm believer that bad news should be shared in private.” He walks over to my couch and plops down, “Spill it.”

  So I do. I tell him about my conversation with Elliot on the phone last week. I relay that Elliot came to New York early to see me. Then I give him the PG version of what happened in my office. I’m so shame-faced I can’t even look him in the eye while I’m talking.


  Finally, Richard cuts to the chase and asks, “Where do I stand in all of this?”

  I screw up my courage and say, “You, Richard Bingham, have been a wonderful friend. I truly do love you and I think you’re an amazing person. You make me laugh and heaven help you, Edith Bunker is mad about you, but I don’t feel the same kind of love for you that I do for Elliot.”

  When I look up, I see that Richard has scooted so close to me our shoulders are touching. He looks at me and asks, “Can I just try a little something?”

  With tears in my eyes, I nod my head and then he leans in and kisses me for all he’s worth. It’s sweet and tender and all together perfect except he isn’t Elliot. When he finishes, he looks up at me with hope in his eyes and asks, “Did I change your mind?”

  I shake my head sadly and announce, “You are the ideal man and so help me, if I had any control over my emotions I would pick you. But I can’t help it. I’m head over heels in love with that bastard Elliot.”

  Richard nods his head and offers, “Lucky bastard.”

  Miserably, I manage to say, “I’m sure that you don’t even want to be my friend anymore.”

  He looks up with shock in his eyes, “Darling, if you had chosen me, your life would have been a bed of roses, no worries, no problems, no heartache.” Then he shakes his head and adds, “But you’ve picked Elliot and Lord knows, you need me now more than ever. I just don’t see you getting through this without my help.” Then he grabs my hand and declares, “No, my dear, I’m not going to abandon you now.”

  I burst into full blown tears of gratitude and love and wonder that I will be able to keep Richard in my life. I had simply never expected this degree of unselfishness from him and I am humbled by his decency. Scientists should study Richard Bingham in hopes of coming up with a serum that could be injected into substandard people to make them more like him.

  Richard holds me while I cry, “BUT…you have to do something for me in return.”

  I snuffle, “Anything! I’ll do anything, just name it.”

  Richard declares, “You have to find your replacement for me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He replies, “You heard me. I need you to scour the ends of the earth and find the perfect woman to take your place. As long as I can’t have you, I want someone as close to you as can be found, deal?”

  “Richard, you deserve someone a lot better than me. You deserve someone who isn’t neurotic, emotional, and full of flaws. You deserve a bunion-free woman. I’m going to find you someone as far away from me as possible, a woman that will be worthy of your love.”

  He shakes his head, “That’s not what I want. I want imperfect and quirky, gorgeous, curvy, and emotional. You have to find what my heart desires or the deal’s off and I go back to putting the moves on you.”

  I rest my head on Richard’s shoulder and agree, “Okay, you’re on. But don’t come running to me when you discover how full your hands are.”

  He teases, “I’m looking forward to those full hands, thank you very much. Now, what do we do about dinner?”

  I ask, “Do you still want to go out?”

  He confesses, “I’m afraid people will think I beat you if we go out with you looking like this.” Then he smiles, “You’re not one of those delicate ladylike criers, are you?”

  I answer, “Nope.” Then suggest, “Why don’t we order in from that new Thai place on Seventy-Eighth?”

  Richard agrees and scans the menu. I confide, “You know Edith Bunker is going to miss you like crazy.”

  He looks up and smiles, “But I’m not going anywhere. What’s to miss?”

  I roll my eyes, “Richard, it won’t be the same for Edith and you know it. She’s been after me to marry you since that day on your boat.”

  Richard hands me the phone and menu and declares, “Here, you order.” Then he sits down next to me and pulls my shoe off and starts to rub Edith Bunker. “Here’s what I’m thinking. Just because you’ve chosen Elliot doesn’t preclude me and Edith from having a relationship, does it?”

  I start to giggle. “I can’t imagine that you and my bunion are going to be able to carry on without involving me at some level, do you?”

  So he counters, “How about this, Edith and I will have our love affair until you and Elliot get married, then we’ll call it off.”

  I heartily agree, “Sounds like a plan to me.” Richard and I spend the next couple of hours just hanging out and enjoying our dinner. Neither one of us brings up Elliot. We just fall into the easy companionship of good friends.

  As I fall asleep that night, I give Jude and Hermione the thumbs up for their great scripting tonight. I know it had to be them because if it were Stan and Ollie there would have been a tornado or building fire to add drama to an already stressful situation.

  Chapter 40

  I’m not at all surprised when Julio announces that I have a guest this morning. As it’s Saturday and I’m not in the office, there is no way for Elliot to stalk me without actually showing up at my apartment. He arrives at my front door carrying a bag full of fresh fruit and muffins. Wearing a sheepish smile, his first words are, “I wasn’t sure you were going to let me up.”

  With a resigned shrug of my shoulders, I reply, “What would be the point? What’s done is done.”

  Elliot drops his bag in the kitchen and turns to look at me, “I’m going to tell Beatrice about us, Mimi. I want to help her, but I just can’t stand the thought us not being together.” Then he pulls me into his arms and just holds me.

  When I finally speak, it’s to say, “I told Richard last night that he and I could only be friends.”

  Elliot squeezes me tighter, “I love you so much. I promise that we’re going to work this all out.”

  I ask, “So when are you going to break Beatrice’s heart, before or after her appointment with the specialist?”

  He answers, “I don’t know when, but I’ll find the right time while she’s still here in New York. Okay?”

  I nod my head sadly at the thought. Poor Beatrice, I suppose this is better than actually killing her off though. I ask, “So what do you want to do today?”

  Elliot replies, “First I’m going to feed you breakfast and then I thought we’d get out and enjoy this beautiful day. How does that sound?”

  I concur that it sounds like a terrific plan. So after a fruit salad of fresh melon and pineapple and half of a bran muffin, I lace up my sneakers in hopes we’ll get some good exercise. While walking hand in hand down Central Park, Elliot asks, “Do you think you want to stay in New York?”

  I answer, “Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it. The whole reason I came here was to get away from you. But now, I don’t know. I mean, I love my job. It’s a million times more exciting than PR in Pipsy, but of course my family isn’t here and my house isn’t here.” Then I add, “And you aren’t here.”

  He interrupts, “Don’t you worry about me. If this is where you’re going to be, this is where I’ll be too. I’m not about to leave you again.”

  Walking along the park with Elliot feels like I’ve finally come home. We could be in a cornfield and I would feel the same thing. I’m where I belong as long as I’m next to him. We turn into the park at Seventy-Second by Strawberry Fields and stop a moment to remember how Joseph Collins wished us the same love that he shared with his wife. I guess he turned out to be our mascot after all.

  Elliot and I explore new parts of the park today like the outdoor theater where they perform Shakespeare and the reservoir which is the running track for thousands of New Yorkers. Then we wind our way back to the boating pond where we rent a row boat for two hours. I have never been so happy in my whole life. There is a tiny niggling part of me that warns that my bubble will burst yet, but I ignore it. I feel that Jude and Hermione are writing me a happy ending and I’m not going to fight it.

  Later when Elliot takes me home, we spend the night making love in a real bed, which is a highly novel experience considering that our previo
us encounters took place in a moving carriage and on the desk in my office. I tease him and announce that I’m still going to want him in an elevator and perhaps on top of the Empire State Building. I would have expected his uptight English self to have pooh-poohed those ideas right off but he merely raises his eyebrow and smiles. He even comes up with a couple locations of his own, the Tower of London and Buckingham Palace.

  While we’re lying in bed talking, Elliot declares, “I think I should get to know Edith Bunker a little better.”

  I comment that he can try, but I warn that she is a fickle bitch so that he shouldn’t feel bad if she snubs him. I don’t tell him that she’s been screaming all day, “You should be with Richard! How dare you leave Richard.”

  Elliot reaches under the covers and grabs Edith and pulls her onto his lap where he proceeds to make her purr. He has magic fingers and even though that damn bunion of mine tries to resist, she becomes putty in his hands. When he’s finished petting her I declare, “Well, that’s it, Mr. Fielding, I now belong to you in full. Edith Bunker has given you rave reviews!”

  I wake up the next morning snuggled deep in Elliot’s arms. It’s the most perfect place in the world to be and if I weren’t overcome by a terrible wave of nausea, I would still be there and not hanging over the toilet for dear life. Stan and Ollie are back. I try to remember what I ate yesterday that might have given me food poisoning and it occurs that almost anything could be the culprit.

  Elliot gets out of bed and joins me when he hears the first wave of retching. I am a violent vomiter. Even as a little girl I would hurl so forcefully I would break tiny capillaries all over my face. Elliot holds my hair back to keep it from getting in the way and after another grand upheaval, I appear to be done.