It was hitting me now, and the fact that Dylan was right when he’d said I would be throwing away everything I had worked for lambasted me. He was also right when he’d said that I was bullheaded. He hadn’t mentioned prideful, but I was that, too. My aspirations were being reduced to naught before my very eyes because I refused to suck it up and work the internship for what it was worth. It had not worked out between me and Dylan, but what had I expected? He said he loved me. He vowed that we could make it work – and like a fool, I had believed him.
That final conversation was brutal. Beads of sweat formed down my spine, being so close to him in his office, and when he approached me, walking majestically from behind his desk; his perfect attire fitting perfectly across his perfect body; anger and pain written over his handsome face, I had faltered and prayed that God would give me the strength to stay strong before him and walk out with what was left of my pride intact.
I had let Roussillon get to me.
I had let him get to me. Against my better judgment, I’d allowed myself to become vulnerable and susceptible to him.
I should have known better.
And now I was eating the biggest piece of humble pie known to man. Not only that, the promises I’d made to my Papa were being destroyed. Because of Dylan, my dreams were being put on hold. I was trying to stay motivated. I was trying to find the silver lining, but the clouds of doom encompassed me and all I could do was think about the relief that might come with giving up.
“Laila, come in,” Dr. Wyman summoned me.
I dragged myself away from the dark thoughts aggregating in my mind and pushed the door open.
Dr. Wyman sat at his desk. His gray comb over and a pair of glasses on his nose completed his distinguished look.
I stood at the threshold until I was invited to come all the way in. He looked up at me and smiled before getting up from his desk to greet me with a professional handshake and then he gesturing to an overstuffed armchair.
“You look stressed,” he said with an amused smile.
“Stressed is quite the understatement,” I said through a sigh. “You know what this meeting is about.”
Dr. Wyman nodded and slid his chair up to his computer a peered at the open page. He pushed his expensive spectacles over his eyes, but promptly slid them down to the bridge of his nose and began to read. “Dr. Wyman,” he read, as if I wasn’t aware of what I had written. “I regret to inform you that, due to circumstances beyond my control, I have been unable to complete my internship at Hamilton Associates, with a remaining seventeen hours outstanding. I am seeking your assistance in this matter, as I understand that time is of the essence and my graduation status is in jeopardy. In the unfortunate event that I am unable to determine a solution to this problem, I would like to request an extension of my internship, as I seek alternative sites, and inevitably delay my graduation. I look forward to meeting with you soon about this urgent matter.”
He slid away from the computer and peered at me. I shifted in the supposed-to-be comfortable seat, waiting for him to say something meaningful.
“So, tell me what’s going on?” he asked.
“Dr. Wyman, it’s a very complicated and complex situation, one of which the details are not really important at the end of the day...”
“They are important if you are seeking an extension,” he corrected me. “Laila, I have high expectations from you, and this is the last thing I expected.”
I sighed feeling like a child who was being scolded. “I know, sir,” was all I could say.
He waited patiently for the details.
“I had a really rough time there. I was out sick for a few days and—”
“Certainly a few days would not put you in a position like this,” he challenged me. “You were doing overtime. Arriving early and leaving late. I heard all about it.”
“I know sir,” I admitted slowly. “Maybe it was more than a few days...”
He eyes didn’t waver.
“The truth is – ”
“You see, I reached out to Mr. Hamilton,” Dr. Wyman said softly.
My mouth snapped closed.
“He had an entirely different account.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“I don’t know if you knew this, but Dylan Hamilton and I go way back.” A smile spread across his face and I knew he was thinking about Dylan because it was the same smile I fought every time I thought about him.
“No, I didn’t realize.”
“Yes, his parents and I were great friends. I remember Dylan in diapers, toddling around the house, getting in the way.”
“It sounds comical.”
“He’s a good man,” he said, “and I contacted him, right after I received your email. He responded immediately.”
My throat dried out as I watched him swing around to the computer and scroll through his email list. Finding what he’d been looking for, he cleared his throat and started to narrate.
“Hi Robbie, it’s good to hear from you. Thank you for alerting me to your and Miss Renaud’s concerns. Miss Renaud experienced a few challenges over the course of her internship; however, she continues to work diligently at Hamilton Associates.”
My mouth dropped, but I quickly picked it up as anger rose in my chest.
Dr. Wyman continued. “She has done, and continues to do, an outstanding job at the firm. I’ve checked with her supervisor here, who confirms that she is seventeen hours short of completing her requirements. She took a week off for mental health reasons...” Dr. Wyman peered at me. “I told you, you looked stressed. He obviously noticed it too,” he said.
I offered him a shivering smile.
“But she is scheduled to return to the office on Monday. Please have Miss Renaud call me as soon as possible so we can discuss the details of her return. Signed, D.H.”
Dr. Wyman turned around and pressed his back against the chair. “Laila, I had a student a few years ago, and she was just like you; a young black woman who was driven and motivated. She was a hard worker. She pushed and pushed and made it to the top. That had been her desire. But at the end of it all, she had a mental break and had to be hospitalized for several months as she tried to recover from the toll the stress of achievement had taken on her body.” He paused. “I don’t want that for you and apparently, neither does Dylan Hamilton.”
I opened my mouth to say something but the only sounds that came out were squeaks. The gravity of the story he told gripped me. Not only that, the reminder of Dylan’s authenticity cast a shadow of doubt over my mind. I shook it away, refusing to entertain it.
“I’m glad Dylan had the prudence to give you much needed time off. He values you and so do I. I want you to finish the internship strong. You have no choice but to finish strong. You’ve worked too hard for this and you should let nothing come in the way of it.”
I sat still under his rousing discourse.
He picked up the phone.
“Who are we calling, sir?” I squeaked.
“Mr. Hamilton. He said he wanted to speak to you.” He began to dial. I could hear the tone of the digits and recognized them as being Dylan’s cellphone. My heart was going to come up through my mouth. I had not prepared for this.
“Dr. Wyman, maybe we should – ”
“Dylan,” he hollered his name. His voice bounced off the walls of the office.
I squirmed in my seat and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice booming. “Yeah, she’s here... I talked to her. It was a total misunderstanding.”
I chewed my bottom lip.
“Of course, one second.”
I looked in horror as Dr. Wyman held the phone out toward me.
“He wishes to speak with you.”
I sat in the chair, unable to move, as anger crowded. Dylan was using Dr. Wyman to haul me back into his office. He knew there’d have been no other way to get me on the Hamilton Associates property. The fact that there was no way to explain my p
osition to Dr. Wyman increased my anxiety. There was no way to explain the truth behind what was happening at Hamilton Associates without looking like a slut and being dismissed from Johnson and Wales with a huge stain on my transcripts, resume, and my entire life.
But two could play this game. Not only that, two would play the game and I’d play it so skillfully, Dylan would wish he’d left well enough alone. I would use Dylan Hamilton to get a gold star from him and move on to another company, then I’d work my ass off to take Hamilton Associates down in the competition.
I straightened my shoulders and took the phone from Dr. Wyman. I steadied my shaking hands, but as I pressed the phone to my face, I realized wasn’t ready to hear his voice. His smooth, liquid vocals were going to assault me, yet I was determined to stay resolute.
“Mr. Hamilton,” I said, looking at Dr. Wyman with a smile as sweet as sugar.
He smiled back at me and nodded, encouraging me to go on.
Dylan’s voice clouded my mind. I hadn’t heard it in days and it inebriated me like a strong drink I hadn’t touched in a while.
“Miss Renaud,” he said flatly. “I’m pleased to know that Robbie Wyman passed on my message.”
“I’m sure you are,” I replied.
“Right. Well, I have a very busy day today, but clearly we need to meet and...catch up.”
I pressed my lips together. There was no way for me to say what I really wanted to say to him with Dr. Wyman staring into my smiling face, and there was no doubt in my mind that Dylan had designed it that way.
“Apparently, we do,” I responded briefly.
“Meet me here tonight.”
“Toni – ” I cut myself off and adjusted my response. “That time might not be best for me, sir.”
“Then I can suggest to Robbie that we all meet at his office bright and early tomorrow morning. You’re putting on a wonderful performance for him right now, but I’m sure the one you’ll do when we’re all in the office together will win you an Emmy.” He paused. “Whichever you prefer, of course.”
I ground my teeth until they would become dust, but when I noticed Dr. Wyman staring at me from behind his desk, I checked my demeanor. “In that case, the former will be acceptable.” I could feel him smile through the phone.
“Perfect,” he said. “That’s the better option for me as well. I’ll see you tonight. We’ll be in the Sky Lobby.” He rattled off the special elevator code.
“My birth – ”
“Yeah,” he cut in. “I wanted to make it easy for you to remember.”
I was silent, listening to him breathe on the other end of the phone.
He hung up.
I held the phone in my hands trying to register all that had happened.
“You see that?” Dr. Wyman was saying. “You are very lucky to have a man like Dylan Hamilton in your corner. He has taken a vested interest in you, Laila. Take advantage of everything he’s offering you.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Laila
‘Sky Lobby’
At 7:45 PM I was stepping onto the sidewalk outside of Hamilton Associates. I closed the taxi door firmly and wondered how much of a fool I really was. Why was I allowing this man to control me? I had quit, which meant he had no authority to tell me anything or suggest what I should and shouldn’t do. The audacity of him to compose such an email to Dr. Wyman, I thought. It had been an outright lie; an attempt to wield his power and status over me and let me know that at the end of the day, he could make me do what I didn’t want to do if he thought it was in my best interest.
And why the Sky Lobby? Why not his office, or better yet, my former cubicle – someplace which had no memories attached to it?
I straightened my pants and tugged on the hem of my matching butterfly-cut jacket before I strode to the door. I entered the almost empty building and marched to the elevator. Punching my birthday numbers onto the keypad, I waited with baited breath as I was whisked up to the luxurious Sky Lobby. Before I knew it, I was standing outside of the doors when suddenly, they swung open.
Ignacio was standing in front of me, clad in his finest. “Señorita Renaud, it is very good to see you again,” he said and bowed ever so slightly.
My eyes widened in horror at his presence. Mouth-watering aromas assailed my nostrils, and the dining table, set for two, alerted me to the truth of what was going on. The scene was a replication of the onetime Dylan had invited me up months ago. I’d tried to mentally prepare myself to meet with Dylan, but there was no way I’d be prepared for this. That much was certain. I refused to put myself in another vulnerable position for this man. There was no way this meeting was going to happen.
“Oh, hell no,” I mumbled backing away from the door.
“Señorita ...”
“No, Ignacio. I am not doing this,” I warned him. “Whatever Mr. Hamilton has planned, you can tell him to forget it.”
Dylan’s voice cut through my tirade. “There’s no need for a middle man,” he suggested. “If you have something you’d like to tell me, I invite you to speak for yourself.” He approached slowly, yet stood afar off, looking princely in casual attire. The jeans clung to his firm thighs and the V-neck t-shirt he was wearing revealed his strong chest and defined biceps. His hair was stylishly gelled, and his hazel eyes flickered.
Silence.
He gazed at me, lips slightly parted, an edginess dashed across his features, and then he turned to look at his faithful butler. “Thank you, Ignacio. I can take it from here.”
Ignacio nodded and disappeared into the depths of the Sky Lobby.
I stood like a statue not daring to move lest I run into his arms and give him my body like a lady of the night. I moistened my lips and prepared my arsenal for war. I marched inside, allowing the door to close behind me.
“Don’t get me wrong, I would have met you in my office, but I was already up here and figured I might as well stay,” he advised.
“Right,” I scoffed. “Very convenient.”
He shrugged. “It might be.”
“So what about Ignacio?”
“What about him?”
“Why is he here? The last time I saw him he was prepping a four-course takeout dinner.”
Dylan chuckled. “Laila, Ignacio goes where I go and he’s here just in case things get messy. I pay him well just to clean up after me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dylan, this is underhanded.”
“Underhanded?”
“You have got to be the most selfish and stubborn...” I needed more adjectives, “disrespectful and deceitful – ”
“Anything else?” he taunted me. “Are you done attacking me or are you going to thank me for saving your ass in Robbie Wyman’s office?”
“Thank you?” I mocked him. “Dylan, I never asked you to intervene on my behalf,” I reminded. “In fact, I thought I’d made it very clear that I didn’t need your help. You told Dr. Wyman I had mental health issues!”
“Yes, because you were acting out of character and I figured there could be no other explanation.” He chuckled. “What else was I supposed to think?”
“Well, perhaps you were right. I had to have mental health issues to become involved with you.”
He winced. “That hurt,” he muttered, “but I should be used to being hurt by you.”
“We’re not going there, Dylan,” I said stalking further into the Sky Lobby. “I’m not here to talk about us. I want to know why you’re doing this. Why can’t you let me live my life? It’s not fair for you to sit up here or down there in your elaborate offices and your expensive suits dictating my life and my career from a distance.” I paused, trying to avoid the emotion creeping up on me. There was no way I’d shed a tear in front of this man.
“You cannot call my professor and trick him into getting me here...” I shook my head and walked past him. “I never would’ve thought you capable of doing something like that. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I should know you by now.”
“You t
old me I didn’t know you the day you walked out of my office. You obviously don’t know me either,” he said following me.
I groaned, wringing my hands in the steamy air.
He grabbed my arm and spun me around so that I was facing him. “You don’t know me,” he repeated, “because if you did you would never have left Hamilton Associates or me in the first place.”
My heart attempted to ignore his compelling words. “I was the one who quit working at Hamilton Associates, Dylan. I’m the one who chose to take an incomplete on my internship. Why can’t you just leave the situation alone?”
“Because I know what you need.”
“You do not know what I need,” I accused him, pointing in his face.
“I know exactly what you need,” he countered, his voiced raised. He glared down on me, his chest rising and falling. Suddenly, he shut his eyes and spun away from me. He leaned on the marble counter, as if he needed support. His shoulders folded. “I told you from the beginning, I wanted to ensure your success, as a black woman and as a professional, and you may not be able to put your pride to the side, but I can.” He paused. “I refuse to allow you to let something as silly as what happened between us to cause you to lose focus. What about your goals, Laila? What about the promises you made to your Papa?”
My jaw trembled.
“If I have to be the bigger man, then I’ll be that,” he continued. “That’s why I’m doing what I’m doing – because you can’t see past the present.”
“You’re minimizing everything that happened between us,” I muttered through my teeth. “You’re acting as if what you did to me doesn’t matter. You’re not allowed to do that.”
“Doesn’t matter?” he repeated, his face twisted in anguish. “Woman, you have no idea how much what happened between us matters to me.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You leaving like you did caused me more heartache than either of us could have imagined,” he alleged.
We were silent as his words penetrated my soul and weakened my defenses. A pained look consumed his features. I tried to ignore it because if I didn’t, I would respond to it and I was not there to respond to Dylan Hamilton. I was there to give him a piece of my mind and let him know he had no clue who he was messing with. I needed to batten down the hatches before my ship flooded.
Oui: A BWWM Romance (The French Connection Book 1) Page 19