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

by Brooklyn Knight

  For these reasons, I had made it my business to limit contact with her and had successfully done so to date. Superman can only be Superman when he’s not in the presence of kryptonite. And Laila Renaud was my kryptonite, though she was hardly aware.

  Carter sat in an armchair across from my desk, holding his chin, eager to hear my analysis of the interns’ work. The sound of sheets of paper being flipped and Carter’s occasional clearing of the throat was all that could be heard as I perused the document with my pen pushed against my bottom lip. Finally, I rearranged the document and closed the folder before getting up from my desk and walking over to my window. There was a lot to think about and not all of it included the contents of the document I’d just scoured.

  “It’s outstanding,” I mumbled to myself, but loud enough so Carter could hear me. “It’s phenomenal.” I walked back to my desk and picked up the document. “The Why is all Miss Renaud,” I said for my own pleasure.

  To call her name was to think about her.

  “It sounds like when she was talking that very first day,” I said.

  “It is very remarkable,” Carter confirmed getting up from his seat and walking over to the bar. “There are some things that need to be tweaked; some questions that need to be considered a little more deeply, but they’ve got it. You cannot deny that my suggestion to bring the girl on was a good idea.”

  I chuckled, unable to defend myself. “No, I can’t, and I won’t,” I replied. I inhaled. “So, they’ll continue to formulate, and then we’ll move into the action phase,” I instructed. “I’ll need to meet with them both to discuss what it should look like going forward.” I rubbed the back of my neck wondering what free time I had in my schedule.

  “Miss Renaud is still on the premises,” Carter announced, swallowing the rest of his beverage and setting the glass on the counter.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Perhaps we should call her in, try to catch her before she leaves.”

  “What is she still doing here?”

  “She’s a worker bee. She comes here early and leaves late almost every day. She’s got a lot of potential, Dylan.”

  “She’s definitely something special,” I mumbled.

  “I’ll get the secretary to call her in on my way out.”

  “On your way out? Wait, you’re leaving?” If Max wasn’t here, there’d be no diversion. I’d be face to face with my thoughts and the reality of my feelings for her. She’d be up close and personal. There was no way I could handle that.

  “It’s early, Max. And it’s Friday. What’s the rush?”

  “I’m meeting the wife,” he said.

  “Oh, right. For someone who complains so much, you’re sure making a habit out of this.”

  He laughed and shrugged sheepishly. “We actually had a good time the last time. I laughed, we talked, it was like old times. I’m telling you, that’s the solution for you and Emily. You need to try it.”

  I frowned while Max grimaced. “On that note, I’m outta’ here. I’ll have your secretary send her in,” he said with a clipped wave.

  Max left me alone in the room and I looked around, feeling like I needed to tidy the place. The office was spotless, but I arranged my Montblanc pen and custom notepad on my desk. I walked up to the mirror and ran my hands through my hair. I straightened my tie, then, realizing the hour, ripped it off.

  My fidgeting was disturbed by a quiet knock on my door.

  Through the crack, I saw Laila, standing looking at me, unsure whether she should come in.

  I swallowed and moved away from the mirror. “Miss Renaud,” I called her.

  “Mr. Hamilton, you wanted to see me?” She was still standing at the threshold.

  “I did,” I said. “Please come in.”

  The minute she entered the room, the visualizations I’d had of us making love in my office bombarded me. I tried to keep my head and prevent a stiff erection at the thought, but the feelings were overpowering.

  She sat in the same seat Max had been in, which was a significant distance away from my desk. I exhaled, grateful that the space would give my anatomy time to relax.

  “You come early, and you leave late...” I noted, mostly to ease my anxiety.

  “There’s a lot of work to be done,” she said, smiling. “You’re not exactly making it easy for us.”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “No, not at all. I was made to do this.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’re up for the challenge.” I opened the file and held the contents up to her. “This is spectacular.”

  “I told you I would make it worth your while,” she reminded me. “I have to admit, however, Ryder and the research team worked just as hard as I did. It was a team effort.”

  “And I will also be meeting with him to discuss this,” I let her know, trying to convince myself that having her in my office was purely business-related. “But I’m talking about you. I can tell the parts you contributed were... well, I can feel you all through it.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I try to be distinct as often as is appropriate.”

  “In that case, you’ve been successful.” I paused. “Tell me more about this.”

  We discussed the future of the project and the things I was going to require going forward. Before long, Laila was pulling out a notepad and scribbling her thoughts, and I was walking around the room, spitting out ideas and concepts. She matched me thought for thought.

  “But what about the other aspects?” she asked looking up at me.

  “Like what?”

  “Well, we’ll need to consider other risk categories like privacy issues, the infringement of intellectual property, virus transmission, or any other serious trouble that may be passed from first to third parties via the Web.”

  “That’s true,” I agreed. “That means we’ll need to think about how we can offer these kinds of protections to businesses – ”

  “And online businesses,” she added.

  “And we’ll have a comprehensive model of coverage.”

  She grinned at me.

  “So that clearly comes under the What,” I noted.

  Laila blushed, and her eyes fell from mine.

  My brow furrowed, I moved across the room to sit in front of her. “What is it?” I whispered smiling.

  She smiled and shrugged. “You like my five Ws...”

  My head tilted to the side and my eyes narrowed. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Mr. Hanson thought they were stupid.” Her excitement waned, and her mouth bunched. I looked at her, drinking in her splendor; unable to control what I was thinking or feeling any longer. “I love the five Ws,” I validated her. “And the H.”

  She burst into laughter and I joined in.

  “Miss Renaud, there will always be people who try to hold you back from the success you know you deserve,” I said leaning closer to her. “Don’t focus on the naysayers. Keep your eyes on the prize.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Again, her eyes shot to the floor.

  My eyes dropped to her mouth and my groin expanded. Very quickly, my armor was being compromised and I suddenly realized that I was in a losing battle. Not only that, but I didn’t want to win.

  Without thinking, I popped up from the chair and scrubbed my hands across my face. I paced the room and Laila stood to her feet, startled.

  “Is everything okay? Did I say or do something wrong?”

  “Yes, I mean... no...” I groaned and threw my arms on top of my head.

  Laila’s shoulders tightened. “If you want me to leave, I can – ”

  “No, it’s not that,” I assured her, though it was exactly that. If she left, she’d relieve the pressure building in my midsection; but I knew that was a lie. Days would pass without me seeing her and the throbbing was only increasing.

  I stared at her from across the room and my shoulders dropped. “What are you doing? Tonight?”

  Shock registered on her face. “Tonight? I –
”

  “I’m asking because it’s Friday and it’s late, and I normally go out to eat and catch some downtime, but because I’ve kept you in the office so late, I feel like I owe you.” I drew in a breath. “So, I was wondering whether you’d join me. Tonight?”

  Laila’s mouth opened and then it closed. Then she opened it again and I noticed a slow smile building on her lips. “You’re serious?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

  She paused, her head dipping to the side. “What about your girlfriend?”

  I cringed. “I told you, she’s not my girlfriend. And with all due respect, Miss Renaud, that’s my problem, not yours.”

  “I understand,” she noted, “but with all due respect, I wouldn’t want to be the target of another unwarranted attack either, sir.”

  “Like I said, you don’t have to worry about that happening again.” It was final. “So, what do you say?”

  “What do I say? Downtime with the CEO of Hamilton Associates? What intern in their right mind would refuse such an offer?” She smiled, and my pulse quickened.

  “Indeed. What intern?” I echoed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dylan

  ‘That’s All I Need’

  Laila was sitting next to me in the car and I listened as she talked about business; but business was the furthest thing from my mind and she had to have known it. A part of me wondered if she was aware of my internal struggles. I had tried my best not to let on about my growing attraction to her, but the more time I spent around her, the weaker and more obvious it became. I had been a fool to ask her out tonight. What purpose was that going to serve? The only direction for this scenario to go was left, but now I had dipped my toes into the pool and there was no turning back.

  The valet took my keys and I stood on the sidewalk, waiting as he opened the door for her.

  Dinner at RED Steakhouse was the venue. It was both busy and quiet. The sexy red and black décor and the wine-rack covered wall were provocative. It was just the setting I wanted to be in with one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.

  We settled into our seats. The lights from the recessed lighting above us cast an ethereal glow about her and I tried not to stare.

  “As I’m sure you can imagine, I’ve never been here before,” she said placing a linen napkin in her lap. She smiled.

  “I hope you enjoy it,” I replied. “It’s one of my favorite spots. It’s not too hectic.”

  “I imagine that’s important to you.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “Sometimes I want to get out of the office and away from the noise.” I thought about Emily.

  “Well, I’m glad you find time to unwind,” she said.

  A waiter appeared, turning our glasses over and offering us a choice of sparkling or distilled water, cutting into our exchange.

  “Good evening, sir and Madame.” He nodded. “To drink, sir?”

  I looked at Laila. “Anything you prefer?”

  “I’ll leave that to you, if you don’t mind.”

  I nodded and then looked back at the waiter. “Henri Jayer,” I requested.

  “Vosne-Romanee?”

  “Please,” I confirmed.

  “Excellent choice,” the waiter confirmed before scooting away, leaving us alone.

  “Vosne-Romanee,” she said raising her eyebrows, looking into the menu.

  “It’s my favorite,” I said, and my head tilted to the side. “You said that perfectly. Do you speak French?”

  Laila closed the menu and her posture relaxed. “Actually, I am French. I was born in a little town called Roussillon,” she revealed, “and when I say little, I mean little. The population is less than two thousand.”

  “That’s miniscule,” I said. “You must miss your friends and family terribly.”

  “Well, yes and no,” she said, and her mouth tightened. “I didn’t get to spend much time there,” she said. “I moved to the U.S. with my father when I was five years old, after my mother died unexpectedly.”

  I frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She sliced the air with her hand. “No, it’s fine. I hardly got to know her before she got sick. Anyway, every summer, my father would take me back home,” she continued. “It was the highlight of the year for us.” She paused. “I haven’t been back since he died seven years ago.” A sheen formed over her brown eyes.

  I leaned closer, drawn to her.

  “Part of my drive for success is because I know he’s watching and I want to make him proud. He used to call me ma belle fille,” she said with a smile.

  “My beautiful girl,” I translated.

  Laila looked into my eyes and smiled.

  I swallowed a lump that was lodged in my throat. “So, you’re fluent in French as well?”

  “Oui.”

  I sat back as our wine came and peered around the intrusive waiter. “So that means I should take you with me when I meet with our French clients in Paris in a few weeks’ time.”

  “Part of me wants to believe that you’re pulling my leg, but you’ve been full of surprises tonight.”

  I laughed. “Do I come across as the kind of guy who cracks jokes?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully.

  “I’m a very serious man, Miss Renaud,” I assured her, putting on a faux stern face. “There is no time for games where I come from.”

  We both laughed.

  “I’m sure. All work and no play. You mentioned me coming early and leaving late, what about you?”

  “I run the thing,” I replied. “I have to come early, and I definitely have to leave late.”

  “But your firm is self-sufficient,” she countered. “I’m not suggesting that you loosen the reigns or become lackadaisical, but you have worked so hard.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “I know all about you, Mr. Hamilton,” she said confidently. “In fact, we studied your journey to success in one of our freshmen classes.” She started counting items off on her fingers. “You worked in the bank for a number of years before you took everything you had and poured it into a risky venture. You started off with two staff working out of a two-by-four office. You worked your finger to the gristle, making sure your product was second to none and now, you manage one of the most successful insurance firms in Miami.” She lifted her glass to her mouth. “I told you, I know...”

  I pressed my lips together

  “And I’m only the intern, but I think it’s important for you to make time for yourself and enjoy life. The firm can and will run itself.”

  Her words struck me.

  I leaned in, unable to fight the good fight any longer. My eyes dropped to the table and I pinched my bottom lip between my teeth. “Listen, I have to be honest with you,” I divulged.

  Worry crossed her face. “Oh my god,” she covered her face. “I’m so sorry. I crossed a boundary, didn’t I? I am in trouble?”

  Not yet.

  “No,” I assured her, “but I have to say something; something that has been on my mind for a while now.” I paused. “There’s a reason I asked you to join me tonight.”

  Her posture straightened. “Okay.”

  “I’m trusting you with this because, quite frankly, I’m not sure what to do,” I paused, “and I need your help.”

  “Of course, you have my word, sir.”

  I tugged at my ear, trying to make the heat dissipate. “Please call me Dylan,” I requested. “We’re not in the office.”

  Her eyes flickered.

  “Miss Renaud...Laila,” I drew in an anxious breath. “When I saw you in the boardroom, the day of the shadow, I knew there was something very special about you.”

  She looked at me, her game-face was tight, but her eyes sparkled.

  “Your passion and your drive are extremely refreshing. I think you are a beautiful woman and the truth is...” I paused, “I am very attracted to you.”

  Her hand flew to the back of her neck and the ri
ch color of her cheeks deepened.

  “Wow...”

  “I have to be honest with you,” I said trying to minimize my discomfort. “It’s been three weeks and every day it gets more difficult to ignore my feelings. There’s a ton more that I could say right now, but I’m sure it would scare you.”

  A pregnant silence dropped between us and I waited for her to say something, anything, that would ease my anxiety. Part of me wanted her to shut me down and tell me that I was inappropriate and that I had offended her, like Stefan said she would. Part of me wanted her to get up from the table and leave me sitting there by myself. But there was another part, a bigger part, that wanted to hear her say she felt the same way. I waited for her response, holding onto my breath.

  Her eyes darted to and fro, and she swallowed. “Mr. Hamilton...”

  “Please, Dylan,” I reminded her.

  She smiled slightly. “Dylan.” She said it cautiously, as if she was trying the name to see how it felt rolling off her tongue, “I don’t know what to say.”

  I pushed my back against the chair, waiting. “I don’t mean to pressure you.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “And I don’t want to hear you say that you feel the same way. I just needed to let you know, to be honest.”

  Her eyes quivered.

  I continued. “I mean, I’ve never had this kind of conversation before. It’s a complete first.”

  She was nodding. “I can imagine.”

  “And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I have a great deal of respect for you and – ”

  She reached across the table and rested her hand on top of mine. My mouth clamped shut.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  My lip clenched between my teeth.

  “But...”

  My heart hammered in my chest as I waited for the words she would utter next.

  Laila sighed, shaking her head. “I’m really sorry, I can’t accept your compliments.”

  My shoulders shrunk, and my insides shriveled. My heart plunged into my shoes.

  “I’m flattered, really, I am -”

  “No, I understand,” I interrupted. “I’m your boss, you’re an intern...”

  “Precisely,” she confirmed. “I told you the other day, my credibility is my top priority and I want more than anything for you to recognize me as a professional black woman who is at the top of her game and a viable employee option. I want to go to the very top and I know what it’s going to take to get there.”