Oui: A BWWM Romance (The French Connection Book 1)

by Brooklyn Knight

  “That’s very true,” he agreed grinning. His voice lowered. “You remember Marsha Wilcox, don’t you?”

  “How can I forget the infamous Marsha Wilcox?” I asked chuckling. “You screwed her for months.”

  “Almost a year,” he corrected me. “And trust me – she was not concerned about the risks.”

  “She ended up getting hurt in the end though.” I said and grimaced, for some reason thinking about Laila Renaud. I didn’t know her, but I was sure I would never want to do something like that to her.

  I sighed realizing there was still no resolve in my mind. Stefan was right about at least one thing: given the risks, my chances of sleeping with Laila Renaud were very low. But I was sure I had seen something in her eyes when she looked at me in the boardroom.

  Maybe it had been all in my mind.

  I mulled over the conversations I’d had with Max and Stefan the entire drive home. Who was I trying to fool? Whatever had been there with Emily had long left and I could find no reason to hold onto the decaying relationship. Regarding Miss Renaud, bringing her on as a second intern was a win-win. I would be selfish to deny her the opportunity.

  I drew in a deep breath.

  There were two things I needed to do.

  “SIRI, call Emily.” The blaring ringing of the phone came through the car’s audio system and within seconds, Emily had answered.

  “Hey sweetheart,” she purred. “I was just about to call you.”

  My brows drew in. “Really, for what?”

  “Well,” she began, “the girls are heading downtown tomorrow to do some shopping. We went last week, but Fendi has a new shipment in, and of course we want to catch everything before it goes on the racks.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay...”

  “And we never finished talking about Brazil. Lisa is planning a bridal party trip there and I mentioned it the other day, but you said we should talk about it later.”

  “Emily, it’s almost two o’clock in the morning. Were you really going to call me about that? At this hour?”

  “Well, you said later, but you never specified a time. And then you always work so late that we hardly get to see each other. I figured I’d catch you before you went to sleep.”

  Silence.

  “I was hoping to use the American Express. The black one.”

  “I only have a black one,” I said, and then I exhaled. “Emily, listen, I have to tell you something.”

  Worry registered in her tone. “Of course, what is it?”

  I paused and swallowed. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

  She inhaled. “What’s not going to work? Shopping or Brazil?”

  “Not shopping, not Brazil, not us,” I said and shrugged as if she could see me. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while and we both know that the relationship isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Dylan, what in the world –”

  “I can’t do it, Em. I care about you a lot, but I’m just not in love with you, and at this point in my life, that’s important to me.”

  Emily was quiet on the other end of the phone and I imagined she was frozen on the spot, trying to figure out what had spurred the conversation.

  “We’re into different things, Em,” I whispered, trying to provide more evidence for why the relationship should end.

  “No, we’re not,” she alleged. “I mean, we are, but I can get into what you’re interested in. You know I’ve always tried to support you, Dylan.”

  “Fine, so tell me, what are my interests?” I asked her. “Do you even know?”

  “Of course I know.”

  I waited.

  “Golf,” she threw out there.

  “I hate golf,” I informed her. “My father used to make me go to the green with him every Sunday and it was always the worst day of the week.”

  “Right, I remember you told me that.” She paused. “You like football,” she insisted. “You’re a Dolphins fan. Remember we went to that game last year.”

  “We went two years ago, and I only went because the Dolphins were playing the Patriots. And,” I added, “you went, but it was kicking and screaming.”

  “Dylan – ”

  “Emily, listen,” I interrupted, “you don’t have to prove anything to me. It’s okay that it didn’t work out between us. We have friendship and that’s what really matters, isn’t it?”

  “Friendship?” she scoffed.

  “And I’m really sorry that we’ve come to this point,” I offered, but I was lying. “But I have to be honest. I would have wanted you to be honest with me.”

  “Dylan...” her voice cracked. “We’ve been together since grad school. Are you really doing this to me?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I know what it is. There’s someone else,” she guessed. “Some whore at the firm. Some secretary.”

  “There’s no one else, Emily,” I groaned, but I couldn’t help but think of Laila Renaud. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while and I need time to be alone and figure out what I want to do next. That’s it.”

  I could sense the heat of her anger percolating through the phone connection. “Dylan Hamilton, if you think I’m going to let you walk out of my life this easily – ”

  “Unfortunately, you have no choice in the matter,” I barked. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

  “Dylan!”

  “Goodbye, Emily.” I ended the call.

  I gripped the steering wheel and stepped on the pedal, increasing my speed on the highway as the exit sign came into view. I smiled, and my shoulders relaxed.

  Chapter Five

  Ryder

  ‘Lovers and Rivals’

  Dinner was over and now the taxi had pulled up outside of her apartment. I jumped out of the taxi and hustled over to Laila’s side, opening the door for her like the gentleman my mother had taught me to be. I extended my hand and the feel of skin against mine caused my heart to twist in my chest. That was how much I wanted her tonight. Not just tonight, though. I wanted this woman every night. Every time I closed my eyes, images of my body on top of hers danced in my head where the sugarplums should have been. Every night, I imagined that she’d given me another chance. All I needed was one night to prove I was all she needed and more importantly, that I would never hurt her again.

  Her foot touched the sidewalk and we strolled to her apartment, bantering lightly. When we reached her door, I watched her search in her bag for her keys. I tried to think of something to say that might prolong the night.

  “It seems like you had a good time.”

  “It was enjoyable,” she admitted, offering me a sweet smile. “You let me order whatever I wanted on the menu and you were on your best behavior. You did all right.”

  “Well, I promised you that I would be,” I reminded her. “Besides, I’m deep in the dog house and I’m trying my best to get out of it.”

  Laila bit back a smile. “You are so silly.”

  “I try not to be,” I said, “especially since I know you prefer sober men.”

  She rolled her eyes and groaned. “On that note,” she said pushing the door open. “I’m going to say goodnight. I guess I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

  I watched her for a second and my heart clamored in my chest. I couldn’t let her leave, I thought. Not before I’d had a chance to tell her how miserable I’d been for the last six months.

  “Laila, wait,” I said, putting my hand against the door.

  “Ryder, what is it?”

  “I promised you I wouldn’t talk about us during dinner, but dinner is over and there is no way I can let you go inside without at least broaching the topic.”

  She threw daggers at me with her expressive eyes, but I refused to budge until she heard me out.

  “Please?” I pleaded.

  She exhaled and took a single step backward, leaving a chilly void in my midst. She folded her arms across her chest. “What do you think is going to happen if I let yo
u inside?” she interrogated me. “We’re not having sex, Ryder Hanson.”

  “I can’t lie to you and say that making love to you has not been on my mind. For months,” I added, “but all I want to do is talk to you. All I want to do is make a case.”

  “A case for what?”

  “A case for us.”

  Laila pushed a long strand of hair behind her ear. “Fine,” she grunted, “but once we’ve talked, will you leave this alone?”

  “If that’s what you want, I promise I will,” I assured her.

  Laila rolled her eyes and stomped inside. I froze for a second, but quickly came to my senses. I skipped down the steps to pay the cab driver, then followed her into the house. I pushed the door closed and turned to face her. Laila dropped her purse on a coffee table and plopped onto a couch.

  Moistening my lips, I joined her in the living room and sat on the loveseat directly across from her. My eyes dropped to my lap as I deliberated the things I wanted to say. This was a golden opportunity. I didn’t want to squander it.

  “Since you left everything has been different,” I said raising my eyes to meet hers. “I used to be the guy who would do whatever it took to be on top. That’s how my father taught me to be. He told me that sometimes you have to run people over be successful.”

  I inhaled.

  “I ran you over when I betrayed you,” I confessed, “and I waited for those feelings of success to come. I waited to bask in the glory of winning, but it never came because all I could think about was how much I missed being with you and how much I love you.”

  Laila gasped, and her eyes expanded.

  “I’m serious,” I assured her. “I’ve done everything I know to show you how sorry I am.”

  “I know, you have,” she said. Her shoulders fell. “I need to let it go. It’s not right for me to continue punishing you.”

  I scooted forward on the loveseat. “About Jennifer McMahon...” I paused.

  “Go on,” she coaxed me, arching her brow.

  “I hooked up with her the night after you left me.” My bottom lip caught between my teeth. “It was the weekend after we had that big argument. What happened with us devastated me. I needed to get my mind off you and Jennifer was in the right place at the right time.”

  Laila swallowed and looked away from me.

  “It was only one time and it was never serious,” I said quickly. “She wasn’t you, so there was no way it could be.”

  Laila nodded. Her neck seemed stiff. “Well, we weren’t together at the time, so it really doesn’t matter does it? In fact, we were never together so – ”

  “You’re right. We weren’t together, but I want to be together now.” I raised myself from the couch and walked over to where she was sitting. I crouched in front of her and pushed that same strand of hair behind her ear again. “Can we?” I whispered. My eyes dropped to her full, trembling mouth. “Can we be together, Laila?”

  She swallowed. “I don’t know, Ry,” she whispered. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. I ran my thumb against the corner of her eye. “There’s so much to consider.”

  “I know,” I validated her, “but can we try?”

  Silence. Her eyes were quivering.

  “How can we be both lovers and rivals?”

  I shook my head, ignoring her words of protest. “Lai, can we please just try?”

  Her eyes were fastened on me and her lips parted. Unable to take the torture any longer, I leaned forward and gently kissed her mouth. Laila’s eyes sealed, and her hand rose to my nape. The kiss deepened, and Laila moaned deep into my throat.

  I tugged her off the couch and into my trembling arms. The slow and easy kiss had turned vehement. I devoured her, refilling an empty tank of want and desire that could only be replenished by her. My hand cupped her face as the kiss deepened, and then it fell to her breasts.

  Suddenly, Laila pulled away.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked between breaths.

  “I don’t want to go there with you, Ry,” she said. “I’m not ready for that.”

  I searched her face. She said she’d finished punishing me, but this would prove be the worst castigation of all. Still, having her, being with her, meant more to me than anything else. Whatever she wanted, I would give to her.

  I nodded, trying to force mind and my genitalia into submission. “Okay,” I whispered. I kissed her lips quickly. “Whatever you need.” I glanced towards the door. “Do you want me to leave?” I asked. “The cab has already left, but I could call another one and – ”

  She reached out and took my hand in hers. “No, stay,” she said. “Let’s just ... cuddle.”

  I smiled, and my heart liquefied inside of me. “Anything for you.”

  Chapter Six

  Ryder

  ‘The Weekend is Over’

  On Monday morning I was still at her place. The slither of sunlight peeking through the curtains cast a delicate, golden glow over the bed. I looked at her sleeping face and ran my thumb over her cheek, lost in thoughts of the long weekend. Our cuddling had continued for two days. Every night, I’d climb in the bed next to her and pull her into a secure hold. Laila would rest her head against my chest and we’d talk.

  Then we’d fall asleep.

  On Saturday we went to a jazz bar and listened to the soulful and melodic sounds of local artists. I pulled Laila onto the dance floor and wrapped her in my arms, resting my chin gently atop her head, lost in her fragrance. My eyes closed, and the perfectness of the moment took hold of me. If I could be with Laila forever, it still wouldn’t be long enough.

  On Sunday, we got a cab and went to my apartment, which was fifteen minutes away. I made popcorn and we studied.

  Now it was Monday.

  The weekend was over.

  I kissed the top of Laila’s head and hopped out the bed to make breakfast. It wasn’t long before she was sauntering into the kitchen rubbing her eyes.

  “Oh my god, what time is it? Did I oversleep?”

  “It’s six thirty.”

  She walked over to me at the stove and I planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

  “I can’t believe the weekend is over,” she said. “I guess it’s back to real life now, huh?”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m just saying,” she said grabbing a piece of bacon. We stared at each other. “I have class at eleven.”

  My eyebrows crowded. She hadn’t answered my question. I decided to let it go. “Well, I have class at ten. We can get dressed and head over to campus after we eat.” I set a plate in front of her.

  She smiled. “You’re trying too hard, Ryder.”

  “Don’t act like you forget how I treated you, Laila. This is what you can expect if you allow me to be your man... again.”

  Her ringing cell phone cut into the moment and she jumped up to get it from the bedroom. She walked back into the kitchen staring at the phone, as if she didn’t recognize the number.

  I shrugged and sat down at the table with my own plate.

  She finally answered. “Good morning, this is Laila.”

  I shoved a piece of bacon into my mouth and flipped open the newspaper that had been delivered to the apartment.

  “Are you serious?” she said.

  I looked up from the paper.

  “Why yes, of course I accept. I would be honored,” she was saying. “I was under the impression that the firm only took on one intern, but – ” She fell silent again.

  I swallowed my bacon.

  “Thank you,” she said again. “I’ll see you next week.”

  Laila hung up and spun around. She was vibrating as she stared at me. Her hands were open like she was waiting for me to throw something into them.

  “Oh my god. Ryder, you would not believe who was on the other end of that phone call.”

  I looked up at her as if I hadn’t been listening to the entire conversation.

  “It was Mr. Hamilton’s secretary. They’ve asked me to intern
at Hamilton Associates!”

  “Are you serious? Wow, Lai, that’s amazing.” My mouth was suspended. “I’m speechless.”

  “If you’re speechless, then imagine me.” She was pacing the floor wringing her hands in the air and I was scratching my head trying to piece it all together.

  She had landed an internship at Hamilton Associates? How was that even possible? It was a known fact that the company only took one intern a year. She had obviously made a huge impression on someone; one so huge that they’d decided to disregard a standard protocol and invite her on as a second intern.

  It had to have been her presentation to Carter and Hamilton, I considered logically. She had blown everyone in the room away, including myself. I had seen the look in Hamilton’s eyes when she’d opened her mouth. He had been stunned and intrigued by her.

  I got up from the table and embraced her, trying to shrug off the unpleasant thoughts that were running through my head. “Laila, I am so proud of you,” I said, but deep inside was a familiar feeling.

  “Thank you, Ry,” she replied. “It was because of you and what you did.”

  I sat back down. “I can take no credit for this,” I said. “I did what was right.”

  “I suppose.” She sat in front of me. “Still... thank you.”

  AS WE SAT IN CLASS later that day, my mind continued to race. The news of her accomplishment was bothering me. And it bothered me that it was bothering me. I wanted to be happy for Laila. Why was it so difficult? She worked hard and there was no denying her talent and her skill. She deserved the internship more than I did. What was my problem?

  The lecture droned on, and my mind was going a million miles a minute, trying to determine the source of my anxiety. Her comment about lovers and rivals was lodged in my brain. I was anxious because I knew what I was trying to build with Laila, and I had ignored her question because I didn’t know the answer. I wondered how working together in a professional capacity would affect my personal plans. We were like opposing soldiers in the heat of battle in a classroom. I could only imagine the tension that would be birthed in a boardroom. We would be adversaries. She would be going for hers and I would have no choice but to go for mine.