But Tuesdays were different.
On Tuesday, he would relapse and think about our long weekend in Paris and the way we’d made unrestrained love in my suite. Or maybe he would consider the time we’d baptized his office in hot perspiration. On Tuesdays, he would want me so badly his body ached and there was hardly any way he could concentrate. That was the first day he’d call, a pained and stricken look on his face, but I refused to answer.
On Wednesday, his resolve would return because I’d ignored him all Tuesday. I would be careful in the hallways, praying to God that I didn’t bump into or see him. His strong, fit physique, clad in expensive custom suits was too much for me. His piercing hazel eyes would penetrate me to the core and my descent would be inevitable. If I saw him from a distance I’d excuse myself and divert to another office, and when I was in the confines of secrecy, I would hang onto the walls, clutching my throat, trying to ease my palpitating heart.
Visions of the man who had taken over my mind and body would cause me to reconsider my position. Maybe I was being unreasonable. Maybe I could have everything: the job, the respect, and the CEO, but I couldn’t count on it. I would gather my resolve, straighten my jacket, and step into the hallway, strutting past him with the respect afforded to him by all of his staff.
On Wednesday, Dylan would be stark, raving mad. There’d be no calls and no attempt to reach out, no effort to make it up to me; but by Thursday, the reality and magnitude of the feelings he had developed were slapping him in the face like a harsh winter breeze. He couldn’t take it anymore and he would call me again; sometimes repeatedly. On Thursday, I would hold the phone in trembling hands as tears rolled down my face, collecting on my chin.
That was his process, I imagined.
Or maybe it was mine...
Either way, I loved Dylan Hamilton, but the reality was there was no way it would work. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to say oui to we, the way he’d suggested.
Today was Thursday. My phone rang with him on the other end and I stared at it, my eyes quivering. I smeared sudden tears across my face and in a moment of weakness, answered the call. “What do you want?”
He breathed on the other end of the phone. “I want you, ma belle fille,” he whispered emotionally. “Laila, I want you.”
I moistened my lips, tasting my salty tears. “You can’t have me,” I whispered. “You used me. You led me to believe I was something special and that you were serious, when the whole time...” My words died.
“The whole time what?” He pleaded in a whisper. “Sweetheart, let me answer your questions. Let me give you whatever you need, but Jesus Christ, Laila, let me see you. I’m going crazy.”
I considered his request, wanting more than ever to see him. I could already visualize the reunion as if I were watching a torrid movie: the door to my apartment would fly open and we’d rip each other’s clothes off in lustful desperation. Or maybe we’d go to the Sky Lobby. I’d ascend the floating stairs and he’d lay me on his bed. In a moment of weakness, we would refuel each other. He would hoist me into the air and I would wrap my legs around him, forcing his stiff erection deeper inside of me and we would have passionate, steamy, remorseless sex.
But I couldn’t afford that.
I straightened my shoulders and my chin lifted. “There is only one thing I want from you Mr. Hamilton,” I said, “and unfortunately, because of poor decision making on my part, I am not in a position to get it.”
“Sweetheart, I can give you whatever you want,” he said. “Just give me a chance to prove it to you.”
I shook my head in denial. “We shouldn’t talk anymore.”
“Laila, you’re torturing me. Sweetheart...”
I smashed the phone against my ear. “Please, don’t call me anymore.” I paused. “Goodnight, Dylan.”
Then I’d called Ryder.
For what, I didn’t know. Maybe it was for comfort. Maybe it was because I knew that despite what Ryder and I had been through, he loved me unconditionally. I had been blinded by what I thought was love and I hadn’t been fair to Ryder. I could see it now. He’d apologized to me, but I was the one who needed to apologize.
Thirty minutes later, I was approaching Ryder at the café. The HA emblem glared at me from its lofty position in the sky on the other side of the street. I looked up to the 34th floor and a wave of emotions rushed through me when I noticed the light in Dylan’s office. Then I saw him, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of his strong silhouette standing at the expansive window; his hands in his pockets, watching over the city like a guardian. I stared, mesmerized, and only started breathing again when he moved out of sight.
My phone vibrated on the table.
It was him.
I swallowed as a trembling finger pressed the ignore button, and then I rushed towards Ryder at the table, slipping the phone into my purse.
“Hey.” Ryder stood as I approached.
“Hey,” I greeted him, trying to settle myself. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I was in my pajamas and had to get dressed.” I forced a smile onto my face.
“No problem,” he said. He cleared his throat and when the waitress approached, he ordered a drink, yet I took note of the glass and three empty beer bottles already on the table. I picked up a bottle, waving it at him.
“Don’t judge me,” he said lightly. “This internship has been the most brutal experience I’ve ever encountered.”
“It’s been a lot of work, but we’ve managed it,” I suggested.
“I’m not talking about the workload.” His eyes captured mine and I looked at the table.
I fiddled with my manicured nails. “Would it be crazy if I said I was happy to see you?” I whispered looking up at him.
He leaned forward. “I think we both know the answer to that question,” he responded smiling. “For the last few months we’ve hardly said a word to each other. For you to say that you’re happy to see me? It would be very crazy.”
I shifted in my seat as the waitress returned with the drink I’d ordered. “I told you we needed to discuss business, but I wasn’t being totally honest,” I muttered. “I wanted to see you so I could apologize.”
His brow furrowed. “Apologize? Lai, I should be apologizing to you. I’m the one who – ”
“You’re right,” I cut him off. “You’ve been a total jackass. You tried to undermine me every chance you got. You tried to discredit me and make me look incompetent in front of Dylan and Carter and –”
“Dylan?” My eyebrows drew in. “Is that what you call him?”
I cleared my throat. “A bad habit I picked up from the trip,” I stuttered. “We all called him that and I guess it slipped out.”
Ryder’s lips pursed.
I cleared my head. “The point is, you’ve apologized, Ry, numerous times. How can I blame you for the way you’ve been acting? We’re in competition. We’re both vying for that all-important position. You didn’t do anything wrong. Not this time.”
He rubbed his nape.
“Ryder, I’m sorry,” I spat out. I moistened my lips feeling anxiety course through me. “I’m sorry for making this internship experience a nightmare. I’m sorry for treating you badly and for shutting you out of my life.” I paused. “I’m sorry that I loved you as much as you loved me, yet I never told you that, because of pride. I want to start over. I would like to rekindle our friendship.”
He didn’t say anything.
I felt pressured to continue. “And I deserve whatever negative feelings you have toward me, and I am totally prepared to lose you forever, but I had to do this tonight.”
Ryder inhaled and ran his hands over his face. “What should I be saying right now?” His tone was blunt.
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to be honest for once.”
“So... it’s not complicated anymore?”
I twisted in my seat. It was still very complicated. All
I needed to do was hear Dylan’s voice and I’d be moist with want.
“No, it’s not,” I said running my hands over my arms. “I was seeing someone, someone I really cared about and who I thought cared about me...” I paused, choking on sentiment. “But it’s over and despite there still being some residual emotions, I’m ready to move on.”
Ryder looked at me and chortled, shaking his head. “So, I’m supposed to be okay with coming in second place?”
I sat back, surprised by his response. “Everything is a competition with you,” I grumbled. “Ryder – ”
“The only reason you’re saying this to me is because it didn’t work out with your new boyfriend, whoever he was,” he interrupted.
“I’m being honest with you,” I said, heat flooding my chest. “I didn’t have to tell you any of that, but I’m trying to do the right thing.” I sat back and glared at him. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Come on, Ry. We both know all work and no play makes Ryder a dull boy.”
Ryder rolled his eyes and took a sip from his beverage.
I pressed him. “Who have you been passing the time with, because I refuse to believe you’ve been watching the clock, waiting for this minute to arrive.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been doing,” he said, setting his glass down. “I told you the last time, I wouldn’t hurt you again, and I meant that.”
I swallowed, trying to digest the lump that had grown in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I apologized for the millionth time. “I just thought that...” I caught myself and looked into his stormy blue eyes.
“You have no clue,” he muttered. “I want more than friendship from you. I’m still in love you, Laila.” He sighed and leaned in closer to me. His eyes were heavy with emotion. “I honestly don’t want to argue anymore.”
“Me either,” I agreed. Tears were crowding in my throat, making my voice crack.
“Then let’s make a decision to stop,” he suggested. “Can we make that promise to one another? Let’s not worry about the past and choose to move forward, together.”
Dylan’s words in Paris attacked me. I tried to focus on what was happening in the moment.
Ryder leaned across the small table and touched his lips against mine. I closed my eyes and welcomed him, trying to derive comfort from feel of his foreign, yet familiar mouth.
It wasn’t working.
Suddenly, images of Dylan bombarded me, and my eyes shot open.
Ryder’s attractive expression greeted me. “I love you, Lai,” he said, pushing a stray tendril from my face, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
I winced but forced myself to smile. “I love you too, Ry.”
We kissed again, and this time, I allowed myself to melt into the experience.
“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested pulling me out of the seat.
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere,” he said. “I just want to hold you.” He paid for our drinks and we left the café, stepping onto the busy Thursday street. Ryder put his arm around my waist and pulled me closer as we maneuvered our way through the crowd. People milled around us, some brushing against us as they moved past. I nestled closer to him trying to shield myself from the bumps and thuds of elbows; however, one thud seemed especially hard.
My throat constricted when a familiar scent arrested me. My head jerked up and my heart crashed onto the sidewalk as the CEO’s penetrating stare cut through me like a knife.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Laila
‘Unfinished Business’
Dylan stood in front of us, as stiff as a statue, his eyes peering down in astonishment and disbelief. His chest rose and fell and his eyes trembled. His lips were pressed together.
I wanted the sidewalk to open up and swallow me whole.
Ryder took a step forward, pulling me closer to his side. “Good evening, sir,” he said, but Dylan ignored him
“Laila...” Dylan was staring at me, the look in his eyes breaking me in half.
I eased away from Ryder.
“Wh...” Dylan stuttered, but he composed himself. “What is this?”
I took a step toward him forgetting that we were in public and that Ryder was standing next to me. My first instinct was to reassure him. Sure, I had been dodging him, playing hardball, but I wasn’t ready for this level of confrontation.
“Mr. Hamilton, perhaps we should discuss this at another time,” I suggested in a pleading whisper.
“What other time?” He shrugged and chuckled. “You’re not answering my calls; you’re not responding to me at all.”
“I answered tonight,” I whispered, unintentionally engaging the inappropriate conversation.
“After how long?” he shot back. “And what was the outcome of that? You ordering me not to call you anymore?”
Ryder looked at us and anger flashed across his face. He bent is face toward mine, “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.
Dylan looked at him with controlled aggression.
I looked back at Ryder, feeling like everything was spinning out of control. “Ry, wait,” I pleaded reaching for his hand, but he stepped out of my reach.
The tables had turned in less than two minutes.
“So this is the reason it’s complicated?” he demanded. “You’re sitting here telling me that everything is over and that you’ve moved on – ”
“Wait a minute,” I said raising my finger.
He cut me off. “But how could you have moved on? You’re screwing the goddamn CEO of Hamilton Associates.” He spread his arms. “What woman moves on from that?”
“Ryder, you’re out of line,” I warned.
Dylan corroborated my assertion. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” He glared at Ryder. His face was rigid and unremorseful. “And if Miss Renaud and I were sleeping together it would still be none of your concern,” he added. “Unless of course, there’s something going on between the two of you...” Dylan’s focus shifted to me.
I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t look at either of them. I felt like a gazelle trapped between predators with no way of escape, except maybe running into the ravenous jaws of one.
“Dylan,” I whispered reaching out for him.
His jaw flexed as he moved away from me.
I drew in a sharp breath and Ryder looked at me, hurt seeping from his pores.
“I knew it,” Ryder mumbled. He backed away from me. “I knew there was something going on between the two of you ...” Ryder swallowed. “I should be on my way,” he said through his teeth.
“Ryder, wait.”
“It seems as though you and Mr. Hamilton have some unfinished business to handle. I’ll let you tend to that.” He scoffed and stormed down the sidewalk.
I turned to face Dylan, but he was heading in the opposite direction, pushing through the meandering public. After a moment of vacillation, I raced after one of them.
“Dylan,” I hastened down the sidewalk, pushing through the throng. The Maybach was parked on the side of the road with the hazard lights on. Dylan opened the door and I reached in just enough time to grab his hand. He shut the door, barring me.
“Dylan, please wait,” I begged through the open window.
“For what,” he mumbled putting the car into gear.
I stood outside looking in, willing my chest not to explode. I grabbed my temples. “I want to explain.”
“Now you want to explain?” he sneered. “That’s funny because I’ve been wanting to do the exact same thing since we returned to Miami and you’ve repeatedly denied me the opportunity. Now you want to explain to me?” He chortled. “My, how the tides have turned...”
“How did you know we were out here?” I demanded folding my arms across my chest, trying to deflect.
“I saw you,” he said, slamming his back against the seat. “I was leaving the office and I saw you and him,” he gestured carelessly in Ryder’s direction, “walking down the
sidewalk, hand in hand, like you have some history that you told me didn’t exist.” He paused. “I asked you, Laila...”
“I can explain...” I said quietly.
“You can explain why you lied to me in Paris? When I asked you to be open and honest with me? When I told you that I wanted to know what was going on with you because I loved you and I wanted us to be more than... whatever we were?”
I adjusted my purse on my shoulder nervously. “Dylan, I’m sorry,” I whispered leaning on the car window and looking in at him. “So much was going on and I was confused about what was happening with us. I was – ”
“I’m not gonna let you cop out with that,” he said shaking his head.
“Cop out? How else should I have responded to you? Everything about us was complicated, how was I supposed to know how serious you were?”
“Because I told you I would never hurt you,” he shouted.
I stared back at him with nothing to say.
“I told you, all you had to do was say yes and you, in your bullheadedness, chose to say no.” He shrugged. “And then you lied to me and because I caught you in the lie, you want to explain...”
My mouth wrinkled. “I needed time to sort through my emotions, Dylan.”
“You needed time to get over me, you mean? Those were Hanson’s words.”
“Maybe I was trying to get over you,” I blurted. “I can’t stay stuck, Dylan. I can’t invest emotional, physical, and professional energy into something I’m not sure I’ll be able to take to the bank. I’m driven for success. I’m trying to make it to the top!”
“And you can’t do that with me in your life, I get that part.” He raised his eyebrows. “So why should I wait?”
My mouth snapped shut.
He continued. “I’m here, sitting in my car on this busy street after I found you moving on with another man...” He paused, his cloudy hazel eyes piercing me. “Why should I wait, Laila?”
Oui: A BWWM Romance (The French Connection Book 1) Page 16