CHAPTER 6.
Dylan.
My ringtone was what woke me up from an alcohol induced sleep. After dropping Sheila off last night, the entire ride back home consisted of me drinking whiskey and lots of it.
Even when I got home, I stumbled my way through the living room to where my fridge stood, the bottle of whiskey inside calling my name.
Glancing at the clock, I realized the alarm hasn't even gone off yet. Nothing is worse than waking up feeling like shit before the sun has fully risen.
I debate on trying to slip back to sleep, but my phone is already ringing again. As much as I wanted to hiss and turn the phone off, one glance at the screen and I picked it up immediately.
"Hello Granny," I greeted and the effort of talking went straight to my brain, resulting in a rhythmic throbbing. I needed to get my shit together.
"Hello son. How was the ball last night?" She asked. My brain started running. What event?
Just as I remembered, I winced at the headache forming. I had way too many drinks last night. Remind me to never drink that much again.
But even I knew that was a joke. Tuning back into the conversation, I replied my grandmother, "I didn't stay for the event."
"Oh really?" She gasped. I rolled my eyes at her, knowing she couldn't see me. There was no way I would roll my eyes at her if she could see me. I valued my life, thank you.
But with all the questions she was asking about last night's ball, I knew she already knows everything that happened. There was just the kind of woman she is.
There was even a huge possibility they she had meddled with some parts of it. I mean, we were talking about Stella Knight, matriarch of the Knight family and the current CEO of Knight Empire.
There was no information that she was not privy to, more so information about me and her precious plan.
"Granny, you should take up acting, you know? Have you ever considered it?" I asked as I rolled out of bed. I need Advil and water, my headache was killing me and there was no one I could blame for it.
There was no need to elaborate on my question as my grandmother burst out laughing.
"Oh well, I tried," she quipped. "Anyway, there are actually some things I'm not privy to. Like, what happened on the way home?"
I finally got into the bathroom cabinet and fished out a small bottle of pills, placing two tablets in my mouth and gulping it down with some water before replying, "You mean to tell me that you didn't pay the chauffeur later night to give you details?" I mocked.
"Why waste money when I can just pry the information from you?"
I sighed as I went back to my bed, "Turns out you were right once again."
The admission left a very bad taste in my mouth, far bitter than the Advil I swallowed. When I got the contract delivered to my office after dinner with the Keith family, I quickly went through it and upon seeing Sheila's signature on the page, I had called my grandmother to gloat to her that the dinner had been a success after all.
She had warned me about the authenticity of the signature, telling me she believed Sheila will stick to her choice and would not sign it.
I had told her instead that nothing was wrong with the contract or the signature. Remembering my exact words, I cringed. I had said and I quote, "Maybe you just don't know her as much as you thought. Granny, I think it's time you come to terms with the fact that you might not always be right after all."
Now guess who was wrong all along.
"Of course I'm always right, you silly boy. So… I'm guessing her father forged her signature, right?"
I nodded, forgetting that she couldn't see me. "Yes granny."
I could feel the headache starting to subside and with its gradual disappearance came anger.
"Do you know how humiliated I was when Sheila accused me of collaborating with her father in manipulating her?" I ranted.
Granny chuckled over the phone. "You're still so young, Dylan. This is all about your pride. Did you take a minute to think of what Sheila might be feeling at the moment?"
Truthfully, I hadn't. And I was ashamed of that. Struck by a weight load of guilt and not knowing what to say, I just kept quiet, my heavy breathing the only indication that I was still on the call.
"To make this work Dylan, you have to put her first. You have to show her that you care about her as well as her reputation and dignity. Do you understand?" She asked.
"Yes granny. How do you propose I do that? Should I call and check up on her?" I asked. My alarm decided to ring at that moment and I slammed it shut, already knowing it was just 7 am.
"No. We're going at this the traditional way and if there's one thing a woman loves, it's grand gestures."
"Okay…" I replied, listening to her so intently like my life depended on her words. And in a way, it did.
"Judging by the type of woman she is, and today being Saturday, she would use this opportunity to confront her father about the forging of the signature. Your job is to be there earlier and confront her father about what he did," she paused and took a sip of what I can only imagine is coffee.
"Now while you confront the man, you defend yourself a little and defend her more. Do you understand?"
"I do, granny. But what's the use when she won't be there to listen to what I say?" I asked, running my hand through my dark tousled hair.
"Oh Dylan, one thing you should remember at all times is that someone somewhere is always listening. Now the ball is in your court. The success of everything depends on your decisions, and your luck, I guess. I'll be here anticipating good news. Goodbye," She gave one last chuckle and hung up.
Minutes after me grandmother hung up, I sat on my bed debating on what course of action to take. I needed to be strategic and wise about this.
Which is why I hired a man to sit on front of Sheila's and notify me immediately she stepped out. Meanwhile, I was parked down the road from Michael Keith's house as I waited for his feedback.