Running From Forever (23 page)

I felt empowered after I talked to Connie.
I would get Kayla back.
If it was the last thing I could do
living on this earth, I would get her back. Failure was not an
option. I would get Kayla back in my arms for good. At any cost and
any length I had to go, I would. No one else had ever opened my
eyes to such happiness. She was my clarity. I wouldn’t let her go;
no, losing Kayla wasn’t an option. Not for me.

Putting both hands firmly down on my desk, I
rose, determination on my face. Not one more day would pass without
fighting for my love. Holding down my secretary’s intercom button,
I didn’t wait for her to answer before ordering, “Kathy, please
send three, no four, dozen roses to Ms. Kayla Reynolds’ desk on the
top floor. Make sure the message reads, ‘I will never give up,
love, Miles.’”

She paused before answering. Never have I ever
made such a request. When I was pursuing a female of interest, I
handled the dirty work, but what I added next, I would need
assistance with. “Every hour until five pm this evening.”

“Uh-uh, um, every…hour, sir?” she stuttered.

“You heard me correctly. Every hour until five
this evening,” I repeated, honest authority in my tone.

“I’ll have it taken care of, sir.”

“Thank you, Kathy. It is greatly
appreciated.”

“Sure, absolutely, Mr. Blackwell.”

Her surprised tone was apparent. Yes, this was
out of my character, but so was the way I felt for Kayla. There was
no shame expressing my feelings for her and if it helped win my
girl back, nothing would stand in my way.

I exhaled hard after hanging up. Phase One was
complete, but I was well aware sending Kayla endless amounts of
roses wouldn’t make what happened disappear. Kayla wouldn’t be won
over by materialistic items, I needed to dig deep. This I knew. I
needed to do something that would touch not only her heart, but her
soul. I needed every part of her back. I needed everything that was
taken away from me.

***

I wasn’t surprised that
I didn’t hear from Kayla by the end of the day yesterday, but it
was confirmed that she did in fact receive every dozen of roses
requested on the hour, every hour until five o’clock on the dot. At
three, I’d even received a picture message from Connie, complaining
that her floor looked like a damn florist’s shop, making me grin.
Kayla may not have wanted to respond, or may not have been won over
by the flowers, but I know very well at some point throughout the
endless deliveries, a smile appeared on her face, and if it took
twenty plus dozen roses to achieve it, every rose served its
purpose. Day one was to make my love smile, and if I knew my girl
like I believed I did, she did, in fact, smile at some point,
making the day a success.

Day two held a different purpose. Day two was
having her live out her dream. After a late night phone call to not
only Connie but our production team as well, today Kayla wouldn’t
be working directly for Connie. No, today she would be meeting
Charlotte Manning and learning the ins and outs of being the face
of ETV. In no way was she being offered this opportunity solely in
attempts to winning back her heart, but because Kayla had the face,
the heart, and the talent for the profession; not to mention the
experience—she’d told me herself that her degree was in Broadcast
Journalism and after I checked her resume, I did some digging at
Cortland about her performance. It was a shot in the dark that
Connie would approve, but she saw it, too. Connie saw the potential
that I saw in Kayla, as well. Therefore, Kayla would be shadowing
Charlotte in hopes of someday sitting beside her.

I sat at my desk at 8:00 with my right foot
rested on my left knee, fingers intertwined, and a smile upon my
face. Right now, Kayla would be getting a surprise visit from her
television idol. When I phoned Charlotte last night to inform her
of the change in her schedule and slipped in the additional
intention in as well, she was more than enthused, agreeing
immediately. Along with everyone else close to me, Charlotte knew
how out of character such acts were for me. Charlotte had worked
for ETV since I was a kid, stemming back into the years when the
company was controlled by my father alone. Charlotte was a close
friend of to my family, knowing the person I was and am,
undoubtedly, and was more than happy to help.

At 8:15, an email notification appeared on my
BlackBerry confirming the arrangement. However, it also meant that
my day without a secretary commenced as well. Part of the agreement
with Connie was if I took away her assistant, I would provide her
with mine. Today, I would be working solo, getting a short glimpse
of life without luxuries. It was something I had never went
without, though, for once in my life, it was a breath of fresh air
to be completely on my own. I would do it and prove, not only to
myself but everyone else, that I could work hard for all that I had
been given. I was capable, and I would demonstrate it. I would
continue to climb the proverbial ladder. In more ways than one.

At just after one in the afternoon, I allowed
myself a short break and made my way down to the second floor,
Production. I wouldn’t make myself noticeable, but I just wanted to
get a small glimpse of Kayla. I just wanted to see her in her
element. See how happy it made her.

I was sure to walk along the far wall,
camouflaging myself with the countless men and women contributing
to the production team. Of course, it was particularly uncommon to
have the CEO meandering around the set, causing eyes to travel and
pleasantries traded. I tried to remain unnoticed, but also generous
for their addition to the company, so I smiled courteously, all the
while focusing on Kayla sitting beside Charlotte on one of the high
stools in front of the cameras. They weren’t on air, just sitting
on the stage, talking. I stopped behind a camera, hiding as much as
possible, with perfect view of Kayla. I watched her nervously push
her stunning blonde hair behind her ear, cheeks flushing when
Charlotte made her smile, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling under
the bright lights. I was in awe, my heart throbbing out my chest. I
couldn’t imagine a woman more beautiful.

“Mr. Blackwell…sir,” a gentleman, one that
looked familiar but without a name I knew, startled me, causing me
to step on something on the ground, which (of course) produced a
loud popping noise, getting all eyes on me.

Busted!
“Um, uh, yes, sorry. Can I help
you?” I stumbled for words, and balance, pushing back my hair, all
the while trying to remain hidden behind the large camera.

“I just needed to clean this camera is all,” he
said, confused with my flustered disposition.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” I stepped back, motioning
to the large camera on wheels. “I apologize for being in your way.”
I continued to step back until I was out of sight and able to move
away from the set, quickly back to the elevators and up to my
office to eliminate the possibility of further humiliating
myself.

It didn’t occur to me until just before five
that it was Tuesday—Tipsy Tuesday. I wondered if Kayla would be in
attendance, but also knew that I couldn’t go. Saturday, feeling
down, and needing any remembrance of Kayla, I went to the corner
bar to drown my sorrows—the same bar that everyone gathered at
twice a week—the bar where I discovered my underlying feelings for
Kayla. It was symbolic that I went there Saturday, but I was in so
many words refused business from the bartender/presumable owner. It
was unsettling; peculiar, really, causing myself to do a double
take once outside the entrance, glaring through the front window.
The man looked very disturbed by my presence, and I couldn’t fathom
why. I wondered for most of the evening what connection we had, if
any, but of course, couldn’t gather one. Regardless, I wouldn’t
cause a scene by showing up and taking the chance of disrupting
Kayla’s evening. I needed to remain clean, so the less intrusive,
the better, even though every part of me wanted to be everywhere
she was. Every wasted moment away from her ate at my core. The
separation was grueling. I was sure it was killing me slowly.

Day three would be the hardest for me. Day
three was about remembrance—reliving the short time spent with
Kayla, the series of events that led to falling in love with her.
Making sure I would miss her in the elevator, I came to work early,
placing a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee on her desk, the same
she brought to me last week. I wrote “Love, Miles” on the side and
stood there for a moment, staring at her desk. It was then I felt
the clench in my heart and wetness in my eyes. I missed her so
goddamn much. Pathetic as it was, staring at her empty chair, I
pictured her. I saw her sitting there, professional with perfect
posture, beautiful blonde hair flowing down her back…working. Even
the simplest image caught something in my chest.

I heard the click clack of heels down the
hallway and my heart raced for a second, thinking it was Kayla, but
I only heard Connie’s stern voice. “You better get going if you
don’t want her to catch you here.”

I turned, shaking my head, removing the
emotional haze that had flooded my body. “Yeah, I was just going,”
I said somberly, coming out more depressing than had hoped.

Her shoulders relaxed and her hard smile curled
slightly. She took a step towards to me, reaching to rub my
shoulder. “She cares, Miles. It’s unmistakable. Just keep fighting,
okay?”

I nodded my head, agreeing. I would keep
fighting. I would never stop fighting for Kayla. I was just
crashing; missing her tremendously. I needed her. Plain and simple,
I just needed my girl.

The elevator chimed, making me glance down at my
watch to notice the time.
Shit!
I had to go. Briefly smiling
to Connie, I rushed in the opposite direction. I would have to take
the stairs down to my floor. It was too soon for her to see me. As
much as my heart pleaded to stay, to see and talk to her, I knew I
had to go. Bumping into Kayla wasn’t in the plan just yet.
Painfully, I had to wait just a little bit longer.