Running From Forever

by Ashley Wilcox

  Everything changed that day in the elevator, when I saw Kayla for the first time. I hadn’t known who she was at first. All I knew was that she was stunning; she took my breath away. I had to get to know her. I had to find out who she was, and I did. When she lifted her hand to press her floor number, she revealed her badge, and her name…Kayla Reynolds. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I cursed myself ten times over. Of course that was her. Of course that was Trevor’s ex, and of course I couldn’t get her out of my head. She was always there…consuming my brain. It was unbearable. Mind aching. Nothing that I had ever experienced before. Other women I could erase, revisit at my discretion, but not her. No, Kayla consumed me; she was captivating in every way possible. She was perfect.

  By the end of the day I went from trying to forget her to formulating a plan to see her again. It was a touch towards crazy, but it was a plan that’d work. Using the company’s renowned level of security to my advantage, I kept the elevator on the main floor, watching her enter on the security cameras from my phone. Ludicrous, I know, but imperative if I wanted to spend more time with her. Just as she did the previous day, she disarmed me. She had me weak, exposed, and vulnerable by the time I reached my floor.

  It was the first night we shared at McShane’s where I realized I couldn’t continue on with Trevor’s request. I wouldn’t carry on with our arrangement. I was falling for Kayla. She made me feel emotions I’d never felt for any other woman. I was both entranced and challenged; painfully aware of my growing addiction. She was intoxicating; I couldn’t get enough of her.

  Thursday, I arranged a jet to bring me to Cortland, where Trevor lived, to meet with him. I had mentioned earlier in the week that I wasn’t in a position to carry out his request, disappointing him. After noticing my feelings for Kayla progressing, I knew it would be in my bed interest to arrange a dinner with Trevor and explain the circumstances that arose. I knew it wouldn’t go over well. I knew he’d be angry that his plan to ruin Kayla would end with her in a relationship with me, but it was out of my control. Kayla was worth fighting for. What we had was worth burning bridges and defying someone that was plotting revenge regardless of the fact that he had performed an incredible act of kindness for me. Kayla was worth it. I should have known by the outburst he displayed in the restaurant that it wouldn’t be the end of his rage. He would get even with Kayla eventually. I wasn’t sure why I disregarded it or belittled his capabilities because he certainly did, only he didn’t just hurt Kayla, and her sister…he destroyed me. He demolished my core; he took away the only woman that had ever stole my heart.

  He ruined me.

  I called Madison last night, checking to see if Kayla came home, assuming she would, since Monday was a work day. As of eleven, she still hadn’t returned. I was beginning to worry she wouldn’t come back. Maybe she would take a position somewhere else, or worse, leave the city completely. I wouldn’t think of it. I couldn’t digest that idea of never seeing her again.

  Avoiding the aggressive approach of waiting in the elevator for her, I proceeded to work as I normally would, my eyes in constant search of Kayla. The gutted feeling in stomach told me that it was no use. I wouldn’t see her. I lost her.

  Curiosity overcoming me, I phoned Connie late in the morning. In attempt to keep our relationship kosher, the information I had provided her with regarding Kayla and I had been minimal. Just before Kayla and I had officially started dating, I had dinner with Connie, explaining that Kayla’s background check had been falsified. After further investigation, it was brought to my attention that she was of good standing and, in my professional opinion, an asset to the company. At the end, I added that Kayla was also an asset to me personally and someone I was beginning to care deeply for. The look I received from Connie was conflicted; she knew there was more to the story, but she also knew I wouldn’t share any more information with her. Had she found out about the arrangement with Trevor, it would’ve made for a very unpleasant meeting with my father; one that I didn’t want to have.

  Connie’s cell phone rang extraordinarily longer than normal; to the point where I looked at my phone to verify that I’d called the right number. And then it went to voicemail. Connie’s phone never went to voicemail. Then I called her office number. She picked up.

  “This better be important,” she greeted with her usual grumble.

  “Why didn’t you answer your cell?”

  “It’s with Kayla,” she replied, sounding confused. If I were correct, she was probably looking out her office windows, verifying Kayla was at her desk. “I’m eating lunch. She takes my calls.”

  As much as Kayla not answering my call made sense, to Connie it wouldn’t. And even though it pained me to know that Kayla would ignore my call, avoiding communication with me, it was a flood of relief that she was, in fact, at work, still in the city, providing hope that I would see her again.

  “Miles?”

  “Yes, I’m here,” I said, not realizing my moment of silence.

  “Is everything okay? With you and Kayla?”

  I was shocked to hear sympathy in her voice. We hadn’t had the most caring relationship growing up. It was no secret that she despised the fact that I didn’t have to do much to prove myself or climb the cooperate ladder to claim my chair of part ownership. She, on the other hand, had, but not because it was expected of her; she did it willingly, working hard to get the top, proving herself, not taking handouts. She had full range of the company, controlling all aspects of it until I graduated. Handing over the reigns of half the company wasn’t something she did easily, or did without a fight, but it was part of the deal made with our father. She could have it until I was old enough to stake my portion.

  I let out an exhausted breath. I wasn’t sure how much to divulge to Connie, but I also felt some level of comfort in exposing myself to her. I needed to talk to someone, and at the end of the day, Connie was my sister…family. “No,” I sighed. “In fact, she isn’t speaking to me.”

  There was silence for a moment and then the sound of a door shutting. “What did you do?”

  I had to snicker. She knew me all too well. Of course she would immediately pin the blame on me.

  “Withheld information,” was all that I told her, still unsure of how to explore the idea of telling her about the arrangement.

  “So you lied.”

  “No, I wasn’t completely honest,” I corrected.

  “Withholding the truth is lying, Miles.”

  I ran my hand through my hair. She was right. Though, whether I lied or not, it was already established and apparent that I was at fault. “I fucked up,” I admitted. It was plain and simple. “I withheld prominent information that should have been brought to her attention from the beginning.”

  “Detrimental?” she questioned.

  “Very.”

  “You care deeply for her?” she asked inquisitively.

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my face with my free hand, exhaling with honesty. “More than I have for anyone.”

  “Then you fight for her, Miles. Work. Prove yourself. Make yourself worthy of the position. Climb the ladder.”

  “The ladder?”

  “The ladder to her trust, Miles. Make her trust you again.”

  I felt empowered after I talked to Connie. I would get Kayla back. If it was the last thing I could do living on this earth, I would get her back. Failure was not an option. I would get Kayla back in my arms for good. At any cost and any length I had to go, I would. No one else had ever opened my eyes to such happiness. She was my clarity. I wouldn’t let her go; no, losing Kayla wasn’t an option. Not for me.

  Putting both hands firmly down on my desk, I rose, determination on my face. Not one more day would pass without fighting for my love. Holding down my secretary’s intercom button, I didn’t wait for her to answer before ordering, “Kathy, please send three, no four, dozen roses to Ms. Kayla Reynolds’ desk on the top floor. Make sure the message reads, ‘I will never give up, love, Miles.’”

 
; She paused before answering. Never have I ever made such a request. When I was pursuing a female of interest, I handled the dirty work, but what I added next, I would need assistance with. “Every hour until five pm this evening.”

  “Uh-uh, um, every…hour, sir?” she stuttered.

  “You heard me correctly. Every hour until five this evening,” I repeated, honest authority in my tone.

  “I’ll have it taken care of, sir.”

  “Thank you, Kathy. It is greatly appreciated.”

  “Sure, absolutely, Mr. Blackwell.”

  Her surprised tone was apparent. Yes, this was out of my character, but so was the way I felt for Kayla. There was no shame expressing my feelings for her and if it helped win my girl back, nothing would stand in my way.

  I exhaled hard after hanging up. Phase One was complete, but I was well aware sending Kayla endless amounts of roses wouldn’t make what happened disappear. Kayla wouldn’t be won over by materialistic items, I needed to dig deep. This I knew. I needed to do something that would touch not only her heart, but her soul. I needed every part of her back. I needed everything that was taken away from me.

  ***

  I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t hear from Kayla by the end of the day yesterday, but it was confirmed that she did in fact receive every dozen of roses requested on the hour, every hour until five o’clock on the dot. At three, I’d even received a picture message from Connie, complaining that her floor looked like a damn florist’s shop, making me grin. Kayla may not have wanted to respond, or may not have been won over by the flowers, but I know very well at some point throughout the endless deliveries, a smile appeared on her face, and if it took twenty plus dozen roses to achieve it, every rose served its purpose. Day one was to make my love smile, and if I knew my girl like I believed I did, she did, in fact, smile at some point, making the day a success.

  Day two held a different purpose. Day two was having her live out her dream. After a late night phone call to not only Connie but our production team as well, today Kayla wouldn’t be working directly for Connie. No, today she would be meeting Charlotte Manning and learning the ins and outs of being the face of ETV. In no way was she being offered this opportunity solely in attempts to winning back her heart, but because Kayla had the face, the heart, and the talent for the profession; not to mention the experience—she’d told me herself that her degree was in Broadcast Journalism and after I checked her resume, I did some digging at Cortland about her performance. It was a shot in the dark that Connie would approve, but she saw it, too. Connie saw the potential that I saw in Kayla, as well. Therefore, Kayla would be shadowing Charlotte in hopes of someday sitting beside her.

  I sat at my desk at 8:00 with my right foot rested on my left knee, fingers intertwined, and a smile upon my face. Right now, Kayla would be getting a surprise visit from her television idol. When I phoned Charlotte last night to inform her of the change in her schedule and slipped in the additional intention in as well, she was more than enthused, agreeing immediately. Along with everyone else close to me, Charlotte knew how out of character such acts were for me. Charlotte had worked for ETV since I was a kid, stemming back into the years when the company was controlled by my father alone. Charlotte was a close friend of to my family, knowing the person I was and am, undoubtedly, and was more than happy to help.

  At 8:15, an email notification appeared on my BlackBerry confirming the arrangement. However, it also meant that my day without a secretary commenced as well. Part of the agreement with Connie was if I took away her assistant, I would provide her with mine. Today, I would be working solo, getting a short glimpse of life without luxuries. It was something I had never went without, though, for once in my life, it was a breath of fresh air to be completely on my own. I would do it and prove, not only to myself but everyone else, that I could work hard for all that I had been given. I was capable, and I would demonstrate it. I would continue to climb the proverbial ladder. In more ways than one.

  At just after one in the afternoon, I allowed myself a short break and made my way down to the second floor, Production. I wouldn’t make myself noticeable, but I just wanted to get a small glimpse of Kayla. I just wanted to see her in her element. See how happy it made her.

  I was sure to walk along the far wall, camouflaging myself with the countless men and women contributing to the production team. Of course, it was particularly uncommon to have the CEO meandering around the set, causing eyes to travel and pleasantries traded. I tried to remain unnoticed, but also generous for their addition to the company, so I smiled courteously, all the while focusing on Kayla sitting beside Charlotte on one of the high stools in front of the cameras. They weren’t on air, just sitting on the stage, talking. I stopped behind a camera, hiding as much as possible, with perfect view of Kayla. I watched her nervously push her stunning blonde hair behind her ear, cheeks flushing when Charlotte made her smile, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling under the bright lights. I was in awe, my heart throbbing out my chest. I couldn’t imagine a woman more beautiful.

  “Mr. Blackwell…sir,” a gentleman, one that looked familiar but without a name I knew, startled me, causing me to step on something on the ground, which (of course) produced a loud popping noise, getting all eyes on me.

  Busted! “Um, uh, yes, sorry. Can I help you?” I stumbled for words, and balance, pushing back my hair, all the while trying to remain hidden behind the large camera.

  “I just needed to clean this camera is all,” he said, confused with my flustered disposition.

  “Oh, yes. Of course.” I stepped back, motioning to the large camera on wheels. “I apologize for being in your way.” I continued to step back until I was out of sight and able to move away from the set, quickly back to the elevators and up to my office to eliminate the possibility of further humiliating myself.

  It didn’t occur to me until just before five that it was Tuesday—Tipsy Tuesday. I wondered if Kayla would be in attendance, but also knew that I couldn’t go. Saturday, feeling down, and needing any remembrance of Kayla, I went to the corner bar to drown my sorrows—the same bar that everyone gathered at twice a week—the bar where I discovered my underlying feelings for Kayla. It was symbolic that I went there Saturday, but I was in so many words refused business from the bartender/presumable owner. It was unsettling; peculiar, really, causing myself to do a double take once outside the entrance, glaring through the front window. The man looked very disturbed by my presence, and I couldn’t fathom why. I wondered for most of the evening what connection we had, if any, but of course, couldn’t gather one. Regardless, I wouldn’t cause a scene by showing up and taking the chance of disrupting Kayla’s evening. I needed to remain clean, so the less intrusive, the better, even though every part of me wanted to be everywhere she was. Every wasted moment away from her ate at my core. The separation was grueling. I was sure it was killing me slowly.

  Day three would be the hardest for me. Day three was about remembrance—reliving the short time spent with Kayla, the series of events that led to falling in love with her. Making sure I would miss her in the elevator, I came to work early, placing a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee on her desk, the same she brought to me last week. I wrote “Love, Miles” on the side and stood there for a moment, staring at her desk. It was then I felt the clench in my heart and wetness in my eyes. I missed her so goddamn much. Pathetic as it was, staring at her empty chair, I pictured her. I saw her sitting there, professional with perfect posture, beautiful blonde hair flowing down her back…working. Even the simplest image caught something in my chest.

  I heard the click clack of heels down the hallway and my heart raced for a second, thinking it was Kayla, but I only heard Connie’s stern voice. “You better get going if you don’t want her to catch you here.”

  I turned, shaking my head, removing the emotional haze that had flooded my body. “Yeah, I was just going,” I said somberly, coming out more depressing than had hoped.

  Her shoulders relaxed
and her hard smile curled slightly. She took a step towards to me, reaching to rub my shoulder. “She cares, Miles. It’s unmistakable. Just keep fighting, okay?”

  I nodded my head, agreeing. I would keep fighting. I would never stop fighting for Kayla. I was just crashing; missing her tremendously. I needed her. Plain and simple, I just needed my girl.

  The elevator chimed, making me glance down at my watch to notice the time. Shit! I had to go. Briefly smiling to Connie, I rushed in the opposite direction. I would have to take the stairs down to my floor. It was too soon for her to see me. As much as my heart pleaded to stay, to see and talk to her, I knew I had to go. Bumping into Kayla wasn’t in the plan just yet. Painfully, I had to wait just a little bit longer.

  My next phone call and request was made to my long-term nanny growing up. Truly had been our nanny since the day I was born and had retired on the day I left for college. I had heard that she struggled with countless nanny positions in the four years I attended college, so I decided my first large paycheck would go to the woman that helped raise me into the man I was. She was the best damn cook in all of New York, and just a couple years ago, I assisted Truly in opening her very own café. It was the same café that I took Kayla to last week. Although I hadn’t told Kayla, bringing her to Truly’s café was like bringing a girlfriend home to my meet the parentals. Getting Truly’s approval in a prospective girlfriend meant more to me than almost anything else. At times, I felt more of a connection to Truly than my own mother. In the years of charity events, galas, and benefits, I was home with Truly more than my own parents, building a forever relationship that I would always cherish.