An undefined silence erupted.
Sasha looked at me. “Michael has been plotting Dylan’s demise,” she revealed. “In fact, I know that Dylan isn’t cheating on you, because Michael is the one who put that woman, Emily, on Dylan’s trail. What’s more, I can tell you, with no uncertainty, that he wants nothing to do with her.”
“How do you know that?” I demanded needing concrete evidence.
“I was there when she rolled up on him at LIV about a month ago.”
My muscles constrained. “What are you talking about?” My voice was low and trembling.
Sasha told me about how Michael had asked her to dig up information about Dylan’s past, and how he’d called her into a meeting to plan a reunion.
“He asked me to tag along,” she continued, “to keep Stefan Miller distracted.”
I couldn’t help but notice the smile playing on her lips. After a second, her sedate façade returned. “But Dylan shut it down,” she assured me. “And there was no vacillating or double-guessing his decision. It was very clear to me that there is only one woman he wants, and that woman is you.”
My chin trembled, and I didn’t know if I should be grateful or disgusted by her presence at the club with Emily.
“Sasha, I’ve been here for two goddamn weeks. Why in god’s name are you just telling me this?”
“Because you never listen,” she snapped at me. “And because I wasn’t sure about you. But now...” she shook her head. “Now that I understand who Michael Sawyer really is, there’s no way I’m going to allow him to take down a sister and stand in the way of true love. And there was no way I was going to sit by and let that witch get away with what she did two weeks ago.”
My eyes widened. “You approached her that night?”
“You’re damn right I did!”
“What did you do?”
Sasha smirked. “Let’s just say she wasn’t ready for the way I rolled up on her when you left LIV. And let’s just say, thanks to the Triple-A, she’ll be out of the picture for good.”
I had no idea what the Triple-A was, but I could only assume it had nothing to do with motor vehicles. It sounded fierce.
An emotional silence shrouded us.
“Michael is trying to take over Hamilton Associates,” she reminded me.
I shifted my eyes towards her, now thinking about the conversation she’d started two weeks ago.
“Some paperwork crossed my desk yesterday,” she revealed. Her tone was low and calculated. “I have never opened Michael’s mail before. He’d fire me in a heartbeat if he ever found out, but I had a feeling his plans for taking down your man extended beyond your relationship with him, and I was right.”
A chill cascaded over my body.
“Michael is in the process of ousting Dylan from his position as the lead investor at Hamilton Associates. He received a letter from their Board of Directors offering him a spot at the table.”
My heart pounded against my ribcage. “What are you talking about? That would be impossible.”
“Unfortunately, not so,” she said. “Remember I was telling you that I heard him talking to those men? It was the night of the debacle.”
I nodded.
“Sawyer has access to a significant sum of liquid assets.”
“A significant sum as in...”
“Thirty-five million dollars,” she filled in. “He’s literally planning to fold Sawyer, Inc. and devote everything he has into taking over Dylan’s firm.”
Fear and horror gripped me. Dylan had thirty-five million dollars and more, but I knew him better than anyone. He was prudent. There was no way he’d drain everything for this.
I choked, my soul crumbling deep inside of me. His words about how much Michael despised him rung clear in my mind. He’d tried to warn me. He’d asked me to trust him, yet, the minute he’d opened his mouth, I’d pounced on him, quick to defend Michael Sawyer under the guise of cultural solidarity.
That was why Michael had wanted me to pledge my allegiance to him. He wanted to rub Dylan’s face in the dirt. He wanted Dylan’s woman and his firm.
Dylan had been right.
Of course he was right.
“Oh my god...” I covered my mouth with my hands as intense waves of shame washed over me. I hopped out of the bed and into my slippers. I threw a robe across my back and snatched my keys off the bureau.
“Where are you going?” Sasha asked in shock.
“I need to go home,” I answered racing out of the room. “I need to talk to Dylan.”
“Of course,” Sasha agreed. “I’ll see you at the office. We need to talk about this some more.”
I ARRIVED HOME IN RECORD time. Dylan’s cars were parked in the garage, and the house was dark. I glanced at my watch. By now, it was almost five o’clock. Soon, he’d be heading for the Riverwalk to run. If I moved quickly, I’d catch him.
I fitted my key into the lock, almost surprised that it still worked. A part of me was surprised that he hadn’t changed the lock, but that would be silly.
I couldn’t stop thinking how Sasha had been spot on.
Dylan was head over heels in love with me. I was the foolish one who refused to rest in the security of our relationship. I was the one who had allowed Michael to come in and plant seeds of uncertainty in mind. Michael had manipulated me with an intriguing mix of fact and fiction, and I had been a fool to fall for his rhetoric without critical thought. He had taken something that was beautiful and misused it.
The bottom line was, I had a man who loved and adored me. There was no more doubt in my mind about it. I knew what I wanted. I wanted Dylan Hamilton.
The door slid open and I called out for him. “Dylan?” My trembling voice almost echoed through the vast foyer. I closed the door and locked it behind me. “Baby, it’s me,” I called again.
Suddenly, a light illuminated on the second floor, and I hurried towards the staircase, but disappointment swallowed me when I saw Ignacio’s fatigued face appear at the top of the steps.
“Señorita...”
“Ignacio.” I met him in the middle of the stairs and pulled him into a hug. I swallowed tears, embarrassed that I’d been away for so long and not even contacted anyone.
“Señorita, estás bien?”
“I’m fine,” I responded quickly, then I reconsidered my reply. “Actually, no, I’m not okay. Has Dylan left for his morning run yet?” I didn’t wait for his answer, before I was dashing around him towards my bedroom.
“Señorita, Señor Hamilton is not here,” he informed me.
I froze.
“He’s overseas.”
“Overseas?” I parroted. “Where did he go?”
“He didn’t say,” he answered. “And he didn’t say when he’d be back.”
I frowned, running my hand over the back of my arm.
Dylan was off the grid.
I dug into the pocket of my robe and pulled out my cell phone. I stared at the message he’d sent over an hour ago and my heart crashed.
Dyl: Are you safe?
Tears blinded me as I typed my tardy response.
Me: Baby yes, I’m safe. Pls come home. I’m here now. We need to talk. Where are you?
I waited, but when I saw one check-mark, my heart sank. The phone fell from my hands and crashed to the carpet. I dropped on the stairs and stared ahead, my elbows propped up on my knees, my mind ticking in time with the grandfather clock in the living room.
Ignacio sat next to me. Worry creased his face. “Is there anything I can do, señorita?” he whispered.
I grunted and finally shook my head. “No, Ignacio,” I replied. I turned to look at him. “The only one who can do anything is me.”
And I know exactly what needs to be done.
Twenty-Nine
Laila
‘By My Side’
I stalked into the office and immediately buried myself in my extensive to-do list, refusing to come up for air. It was lunch time before Sasha was knocking on
my office door.
“Come in.” I barely lifted my head.
“Miss Renaud, here are the files for this afternoon’s meeting,” she announced. I dropped my pen on the desk and looked up into her tense face before reaching out and taking them from her.
She lowered her voice. “And here are those forms we discussed earlier. I called your investment banker as well. You have a meeting scheduled for one o’clock this afternoon.”
“Perfect,” I said flipping through the papers she’d handed me. I paused and lowered my voice to match hers. “And what about the other meetings? Were the parties willing to – ”
She interrupted. “More than willing,” she said.
I released the breath I’d been holding.
“Check your calendar. I scheduled those meetings as well.” She smirked and raised an eyebrow. “You have a very busy week ahead. But of course, you’re used to those.”
We laughed and then settled.
I pulled the documents towards me and my hands tightened around their edges. “Thank you,” I said, then I paused. “Thank you for the spontaneous room and board. And thank you for – ”
“Laila, the last thing you need to do is thank me,” she assured me. “We both know what time it is.”
We stared at one another.
She straightened her shoulders. “Michael wants to see you in his office. He says its important.” Her eyebrows furrowed, and I knew why.
I’d seen little of him over the last two weeks. After the debacle at his all-star event, he’d taken the following Monday and Tuesday off; said he was working remotely, but the truth was, he was most likely waiting for the shiner Dylan had strategically applied to his face to subside. Michael was a man’s man. To be seen in public with a bruiser was not an option. And even worse was that it had come courtesy of Dylan Hamilton.
I rose from the desk and straightened my skirt. Then I adjusted the hem of my slim-fit suit jacket before making my way to the door. The hall seemed extra-long and extra ominous as I made the trek toward his office. I stood outside of the double-doors for a second, trying to imagine what he would say and prepare myself accordingly. More importantly, I was preparing myself for what I was going to say.
I pushed the door open, surprised to find Michael seated at his luxurious oak desk. A floor to ceiling book shelf encompassed the wall behind him, and it was filled with books. I wondered if he’d ever read the ones on the top shelf, or even how he’d gotten them there in the first place.
I stood at the door waiting to be granted further entry. I didn’t have to wait long.
“Laila, please come in. Take a seat,” he suggested, gesturing to an empty, oversized armchair.
I inhaled and followed his orders. Then I sat, under his intense scrutiny, waiting for what he would say next.
“You look amazing...”
I stared at him.
He pointed to my hair.
I fought the urge to touch it.
He narrowed his eyes. “So that’s what sent Dylan Hamilton over the edge that night?” He chuckled. “At university, he was always impulsive, but two weeks ago his behavior seemed a little exaggerated – even for the likes of him. I get it now...”
My eyelashes fluttered.
“He wasn’t ready,” he suggested. “I don’t want to say I told you so...”
“Then don’t,” I advised sharply. “That weekend was a disaster of epic proportions. I’d rather not discuss it.”
He shrugged. “Not necessarily,” he replied. He lifted himself from his chair and winced before collecting himself. He ran his hand over his thick, imperial beard and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “It’s true. The weekend didn’t quite go as expected. But look at how you’ve grown. Look at how we’ve grown...” His eyes flickered.
My breath caught in my throat as he sauntered towards me, bringing with him a rich, intoxicating fragrance that almost made me dizzy.
He stopped in front of me and knelt down. Now that he was up close, I could see what was left of the black-eye, which marred his honey-colored skin. Michael raised his thick hand to my hair and paused before running it over the soft waves.
I froze.
His hand caressed me, before falling to my chin, which he tilted upwards. His dark eyes, which were a stark contrast to Dylan’s, penetrated me.
“I want you to know that nothing which happened that weekend changes my mind about you. In fact, it confirms what I knew all along.”
I swallowed.
“I announced my intention to promote you that evening.”
I found my voice. “I heard. I told you I needed to consider your proposition.”
“And did you?”
He let the question sink into my brain.
Dylan’s command that I should turn down Michael’s proposal and quit working at his company rang in my mind. My jaw tightened as I stared into Michael’s fierce, blemished face.
I nodded. “I did. I’ve had a lot of time to think since you mentioned it.” I paused. “Dylan and I... we’re no longer together.”
Michael’s eyes dropped. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
He looked up again. “I’m sorry that you’ve been hurt. You obviously loved him. I can only imagine the pain you’re experiencing right now.”
My mouth tightened. “The show must go on,” I asserted, and he smiled. It was a slow grin that built until it took over his full lips.
After a second, I allowed myself to smile with him.
He stared at me. His voice lowered. “I want you alongside me,” he whispered. “I can totally see why Dylan desired you. You’re brains and beauty, and you’d make any man proud. Even a white man.”
I didn’t move an inch.
He raised himself from his haunches and ran his hands over his wavy mane. “Yes or no?” he demanded.
I opened my mouth to respond, but he interrupted before I could say anything.
“I need you to know upfront: I have big plans for this company. There are some things on the horizon which will skyrocket us into the stratosphere of business, but I need your word.”
I thought about Sasha’s revelation. “My word?” I echoed.
“Yes.” His chest rose and fell beneath his Italian suit. He lowered his voice. “I need your word and I need your allegiance. To me. Or else Dylan will come after you.”
“No, he won’t,” I claimed.
“He’d be a fool not to.”
Now I rose and took a confident step in Michael’s direction. My eyes were rock-hard, and my face was as straight as his crisp, white shirt. “Dylan doesn’t understand me, and he knows that now. We both do.” I paused, considering my words carefully. “Our relationship is over and there is no way he’s going to pursue me again.”
Michael’s eyes flickered.
“So you’re mine?”
“I’m my own,” I corrected him. “But if you’re asking me to support you – as my brother – I can do that.”
Michael chortled and bent his head forward. His lips reached for mine and his minty breath brushed my mouth.
I turned my face away from his, but his lips grazed my cheek. He pressed his mouth against my skin and chuckled.
“I want you...” he admitted in a raspy growl.
“I can see that,” I whispered back, “but you must know at least a little bit about me, now that I’ve been working for you for almost three months. I’m a woman of integrity. There’s no way I’d leave Dylan and fall into your arms.”
“My arms are stronger than his,” he alleged.
“And there’s no way I’d simply take your word for that.” I paused. “You may be used to women falling into your lap, but I’m no ordinary woman.” I turned my face so I was staring into his shimmering eyes. “If you want me the way you say you do, you’ll have to work for me.”
He grinned.
“I need to know that I can trust you, the way I trusted Dylan. I knew everything about him.”
“Almost
everything...” he dropped.
My eyelashes fluttered. “You’ve given me charge over several portfolios, but I want more.”
“More?”
“You trust me, don’t you? I’m brains. And beauty...”
He stared at me, and I fought the urge to wither. “Fine,” he agreed suddenly. He stood back and chuckled. “I have never met a woman as intriguing as you. When I say that I want you, I mean it. I can give you everything Dylan did, and more. I can take care of you. I can be everything you need.”
My jaw tensed.
“And I will prove that to you. I want you by my side, Laila. You’re right. There have been many women to lay in my bed and try to convince me they were worthy of my time.” He shook his head. “I know, with complete certainty, that you are that woman.” He rubbed his brow and turned away from me.
Suddenly, he spun back around. “I have no problem letting you into my world, my mind, and even my heart. Please, meet me for dinner tonight. We can... talk.”
I nodded, feeling a determined surge rise within me.
“I will,” I agreed.
Michael smiled. “Then that will be all,” he whispered. “For now...”
I snatched a breath of potpourri-filled air and nodded before turning and walking out.
I felt his sharp watch trail me until I was out of sight, and try as I might, there was no way I could keep the vixen smile off my face.
I entered my office and closed the door, trying to deny the stinging urge to let tears fall from my eyes. I hastened to my desk and pulled my cell phone out of my purse. I opened the one-sided conversation I’d been having with Dylan, and when I noticed two blue check marks illuminated next to the message, my heart lurched. The phone slipped from my hands and crashed onto the desk; then I sat at my desk staring into the distance as the master plan I was forming took shape in my mind.
Thirty
Laila
‘The Better Man’
I peeked through the curtains as Michael’s pristine, gun metal Rolls Royce pulled up to the curb. The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t see inside, but I could already imagine him, sitting in the car, GQ’d and ready to engage me.
Coup: A BWWM Romance (The French Connection Book 2) Page 16
