“Wow, Mr. Hamilton,” I breathed, “this is amazing.” I watched as he threw a soft basketball into a hoop hanging on the wall in a corner.
“It’s just my little space,” he said downplaying the splendor of the workplace. “If you keep doing what you’re doing, I can only imagine you’ll have something like this of your own pretty soon.”
He took a shot, which swished through the small hoop, and gestured to a vacant seat. He walked over to his desk and sat in his chair, leaning back dramatically. “You know what else is amazing?” He pointed his expensive pen at me.
I smiled, looking at my shoes. “It’s been a lot of hard work,” I said rubbing the back of my neck. “Miss Renaud and I are working diligently on this, sir. I believe the two of us will be able to successfully organize the next phase of the project. We have a senior management meeting within the next three weeks. Mr. Carter says you’re hoping to pitch this to prospective clients.”
“That is my hope,” he said. “We’re very excited about moving forward. Its implications on the firm and the bottom line will be tremendous. And as I mentioned in the meeting the other day, we have provided you with a full complement of support staff in the research team. I would like for you to schedule a meeting with marketing to talk about how you intend to push this, and I look forward to hearing from you in the next two weeks regarding your progress.”
My eyes widened at the amount of work he had just piled on us. Laila and I would be working our fingers to the bone. There’d be no time to argue, I thought anticipating a welcomed reprieve. Maybe then I could broach the topic of us.
Mr. Hamilton sat forward and put his elbows on his desk. A quizzical look marred his features as he examined me. “Tell me, how’s it going between you and Miss Renaud?”
My neck jutted forward. “Pardon me, sir?”
“The two of you, how are the two of you making out working as a team?”
I rubbed my brow. It was as if he’d read my mind, but I was sure he wasn’t looking for a discussion about my sex-driven recollections. Still, he needed to know that it had been rough. He was a man. Maybe he would understand.
“It’s tolerable,” I divulged.
“What do you mean?”
“Working with Laila – I mean, Miss Renaud — has been a challenge.”
“How so?” he asked. “From my assessment, Miss Renaud is a remarkable woman. She has strong ideas and concepts.”
“Yes, she’s very opinionated. That might be part of the problem.”
His brow furrowed “A part?”
I paused. “The other part is, well...” I paused. “Between you and me, Laila and I have a romantic history that sometimes gets in the way of work.”
Mr. Hamilton stared at me but didn’t say anything.
“It didn’t end well,” I added.
“You broke her heart?”
“No, in fact, it was the other way around.” I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck.
Mr. Hamilton lifted himself from his chair and put his hands in his pockets, staring out of the window. “So, you’re saying its difficult working with her because the two of you still have feelings for one another?” He turned to face me, and my brows crowded at the intensity of his question. Or maybe it was the fervor in his eyes.
I cleared my throat. “I don’t think she wants me, sir,” I admitted, “though you can never be sure with women.” I chuckled, and after a second, Mr. Hamilton joined in.
The mood lightened suddenly, and I was relieved.
“No, you can never be sure,” he agreed. He grabbed the basketball and turned towards the hoop. “I may have a solution for your problem,” he said landing another three-pointer. “I actually have a friend who was in a similar situation. He worked for me and there was a woman he’d been in a relationship with. It ended, but he was still head over heels. So much so, that he couldn’t produce the way I needed him to.” He took another shot. “So, I split them up. I sent her to a branch in another state and he stayed here in Miami.”
He turned and looked at me.
I fought the urge to fiddle with my tie.
“I’m going to pull Miss Renaud off the project.”
My head tipped to the side. “Sir – ”
“I need you to be on the top of your game,” he interrupted. “Remember, this is about more than the internship. There are viable employment options available if I’m impressed.”
I rose to my feet, clasping my hands. My eyes were bulging. “Mr. Hamilton, I’m grateful that you’re considering my emotional wellbeing.”
“It’s about company culture,” he added.
My eyes narrowed. I continued. “I only have one concern. Miss Renaud is extremely driven. If she thinks she’s being slighted, and if she links me to anything, she’ll never forgive me. Working with her is hard enough as it is. It’ll be hell.”
Mr. Hamilton shook his head. “She won’t think that,” he assured me. “I have plans for her, something I think she’ll enjoy very much. Hanson, you’re the lead on this project and I’ll need you to work on marketing. I foresee you doing a fine job in that area. Miss Renaud is a talker. My plan is to take her with me to France next week, where I’ll be meeting with clients.”
“France?”
“Yes. Let’s face it, Hanson: a room full of businessmen will respond very well to a pretty face.”
I looked at the CEO, analyzing his words.
“Indeed,” I agreed.
“Perfect. I’m glad you understand,” he finalized. “You’re free to leave. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to let the research team or Carter know.”
I walked out of his office and headed back to mine thinking about the things Mr. Hamilton had said. He was right: Laila had a pretty face and she had the gift of gab. She also had the level of persuasiveness that could change the mind of a suicide bomber; but to pull her off the project was drastic, and for some reason, the idea wasn’t settling with me.
I walked past the office on my way out to lunch and peeked in, hoping to catch a glimpse of Laila hard at work. She was there packing her bag, ready to head out.
I paused for a moment before I detoured in, unable to help myself. I looked around, glad to see that Katelyn had left. I needed to have a private conversation with Laila and when Katelyn was there, it was uncomfortable.
She glanced in my direction and resumed her task.
I entered as if I were walking into the female restroom. “So you’re sure about lunch?” I knew the answer to the question.
“Very.” She turned to walk past me, but I blocked her, unwilling to put up with her coolness.
“Ryder, what are you doing?”
“Laila, I can’t do this anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What the hell do you think I’m talking about?” I demanded. “Us, this. I can’t work with you knowing that...” my shoulders dropped, “knowing that you don’t trust me to love you unconditionally.”
She sighed and folded her arms across her chest.
“It’s been almost two months and I can’t do it. We don’t talk more than what is required of us. We don’t laugh about anything. We sit here like acquaintances when we both know we’re a hell of a lot more than that.” I paused. “I miss you, Laila. I can’t work in the same room with you and be like this. I want us to work it out.”
There was silence as we looked at each other, but she still had a hardened look on her face.
“Okay,” she said nodding.
“Okay?”
“Okay,” she repeated. “Let’s work it out. Let’s work on our friendship.”
I groaned. “Laila, I wasn’t talking about amiability.”
“That’s all I can offer,” she asserted and then she sighed. “Ryder, I have to be honest with you. Things are a little more complicated now.”
My face twisted, my stomach roiling. “You’re seeing someone else?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“
You haven’t said anything yet.”
“You want to work it out and this is the best I can offer. I didn’t say I was seeing anyone. I’m not seeing anyone, but even if I was, it would be none of your business.”
“If you mean other than the fact that you know I’m in love with you and want to be with you, then you’re right, it would be none of my business.”
She gave me the classic eye roll and attempted to push past me.
I wouldn’t let her.
“You need to move on, Ryder. I have.”
“Permit me to move on,” I urged her. “Tell me what I need to hear. You have no idea how I wish I could forget about you. I don’t like being beholden to you, living at your mercy day in and out, walking around on egg shells, hoping and praying that you’ll open your eyes and recognize that there’s no other man who will love you like I will.” I paused. “I want to move on, Lai, but you have to help me.”
Silence.
“Tell me that you don’t want me and that there is no way I can ever expect to hold you or kiss you or make love to you again.”
Her jaw flexed, and I stared at her, waiting for a response.
“There is no way,” she whispered, her eyes shifting from mine. “There’s no hope for us, Ryder. I’ve moved on and I really hope you can do the same.”
We stood staring at each other for an undefined moment.
“Me too,” I agreed with her. I rubbed my nose and stepped to the side so she could pass. She hesitated for only a moment, and then walked out the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Ryder
‘Make It to the Top’
I sat at a table in the back of a coffee shop across the street from Hamilton Associates and dropped my head into my trembling hands.
Something wasn’t right.
The last thing Laila had said to me was that she didn’t want a relationship; that she was focusing on school and her career. It was why we couldn’t be together. But now, things were ‘complicated.’ Something had changed and I wondered what it was. My mind raced, trying to pull together abstract pieces of a puzzle I hadn’t known existed. I slammed my fist on the red and white checkered table clothed table and the cutlery jumped.
A couple at the table next to me side-eyed me cautiously.
I adjusted my tie and summoned the waitress. Chewing on a piece of gum, she grabbed a pad and strolled towards my table.
She stared down at me.
“A Corona, please. Bring a glass.”
She scribbled on her pad and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
I grabbed the menu and blindly flipped through it. “Oh right – and I’ll take a panini.”
“Which one?” she asked clicking her gum.
“The Parma ham.” I slapped the menu closed and handed it to her. Then I looked around the restaurant, my knee bouncing under the table.
Laila had suggested I move on with my life. There was always Jenny McMahon or countless other women I could recruit to assist with that process. The only problem was that I didn’t want to. And an even bigger problem was that I wanted to know what was going on with her and I didn’t know how to find out.
The waitress placed the Corona in front of me and I poured the golden liquid against the side of the glass and shoved it against my mouth.
“It’s a little early in the day for that kind of a beverage, don’t you think?”
I looked up into Katelyn’s face and she peered at me.
“Oh, this,” I said lifting the glass and I chuckled. “It’s been a rough day,” I said. “Don’t judge me.”
Katelyn laughed. “I won’t,” she assured me. “In fact, if I wore my liquor a little better I’d probably join you. Unfortunately for me, a few sips in and I’m toast.” She gestured towards the empty chair. “Do you mind?”
Yes.
“No, not at all,” I replied.
Katelyn eased the chair away from the table and sat in front of me. A strand of blonde hair had separated from her professional bun and fallen into her face. A sharp pain sliced through my chest when I thought of Laila.
Katelyn smiled at me, and her brown eyes twinkled and a light, flowery fragrance tickled my nose. “I’m sorry about this morning,” she said, pressing her lips tight.
“This morning?”
“The argument, between you and Laila?”
As if I’d forgotten.
“The two of you make a great team, but your energies are on the opposite end of the spectrum. How do you put up with her?”
I added beer to my glass.
“Don’t get me wrong” she said quickly. “You guys are super-efficient. You got that proposal done right on time.”
“Yeah, we work well together,” I informed her staring hard into her face. “I mean, things are difficult right now, but – ”
“Difficult?” she scoffed. “Honestly, that doesn’t seem like strong enough of a word. I’m in the room with the two of you, remember?” She leaned closer. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Barry and Don are the easiest to get along with, and the truth is, at first I was happy to see Laila walk into the office. I was excited, thinking there’d finally be some girl power in the room, you know?” She sighed and shook her head again. “I guess I was wrong.”
I tilted my head to the side trying to understand Katelyn’s aversion to Laila. They’d barely spoken a word to each other.
My jaw cinched.
Katelyn ran her finger over the crease in the napkin on the table. “Why does she treat you like that? You’re funny, you’re smart. I don’t get it.”
“We’ve been through a lot,” I said and then I took a sip of beer. “Some women fight back when they’re pushed.”
“Black women fight back...” Katelyn said, and she chortled.
“Excuse me?”
She shrugged. “You know how they can be,” she suggested. “That whole angry-black-woman thing – it’s true. They’re so... aggressive...”
“Not in all cases,” I came back.
“Well, it certainly seems like it’s true in her case.”
My insides vibrated, and heat generated in my body.
Katelyn gasped. She laid her hand on her chest. “I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve offended you.” She paused. “You care about her, don’t you?”
“I do care about her,” I responded, “but it’s more than that. Laila’s not aggressive, she’s driven,” I said. “She works hard, as I’m sure you do.”
Katelyn scoffed. “Right.” She leaned back in her chair and raised an eyebrow. “She works really hard.” She lowered her voice. “So hard that she stays late to have meetings with the CEO after everyone has left.”
My breath hitched. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said. “She’s one of those girls who knows exactly what to do to make her way to the top.”
My jaw cinched. There was no way, I thought, but certain curious memories fled into my mind. Like the things Hamilton had said about her and the way he’d interrogated me about our working relationship. He’d mentioned company culture, but now I was starting to think it was bullshit. Those were Laila’s words.
I turned to look at Katelyn. My eyes were hard. “You shouldn’t make accusations like that about people, especially when you have no evidence,” I said baiting her.
She shrugged. “You’re right. Evidence is one thing I don’t have, but I wish to God that I did.” She scoffed and lifted herself from the table. “Anyway, I’d better get going. I’m sorry if I upset you. I know you meant to relax after that stressful scene in the office.”
She didn’t wait for me to say anything before she was turning to walk away. Suddenly, she turned back to look at me. “Let me know if you ever want to do lunch together sometime. Laila might have turned you down, but I sure won’t.” She pushed the rogue strand of hair behind her ear and left without ordering anything.
I stared after her, feeling my face tighten. I grabbed
the glass of beer and took a hefty swig before slamming it down on the table.
What was Katelyn talking about, I wondered. What would make her suggest something like that? Laila wasn’t that kind of woman. There was no way she’d sleep her way to the top, no matter how much winning meant to her.
My eyes quivered and I tried to settle my emotions, but they were spinning out of control. My mind was racing and suddenly, I felt my throat closing up. I gripped my phone off the table and opened the Google search engine. My fingers trembled as I typed.
Best P.I. service in Miami.
Within seconds, my phone had produced a list of private investigator firms and their rankings. I scanned the options, taking another sip of my beer and stalled, only for a second, to consider whether I wanted to go this far.
I was in love with Laila Renaud, and the intense drive to know if she was seeing another man propelled me.
But it was more than that.
If she was sleeping with the CEO so she could make her way up the corporate ladder, it would be unforgiveable. There was no way I could allow her to win like that. I would have to take her down.
I looked at the list again.
Miller Associates.
The owner was some guy named Stefan Miller. I scrolled through the multiple 5-star reviews.
“So it’s complicated?” I murmured staring at the number. The muscle in my jaw twitched. “Let’s find out just how complicated it really is.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ryder
‘Read it. Sign it.’
It was 6:15 when I arrived at the restaurant Stefan Miller mentioned. Groups of people waited in the reception area, and the intermittent sound of buzzing reservation devices filled my ears. We had agreed to meet at six-thirty, but at this rate, it would be seven o’clock before we even got a table.
And he was nowhere in sight.
Not that I knew what he looked like. We hadn’t made arrangements to wear red ribbons in our hair or a rose on our lapels. There hadn’t even been a phone call from him inquiring my whereabouts. I looked down at my phone. I groaned and decided to approach the reservation desk.
Oui: A BWWM Romance (The French Connection Book 1) Page 9