Boss I Love To Hate

by James, London

  “I’ll – I’m going to have to call you back,” she snaps, quickly disconnecting the call.

  Berlin drops her phone onto her desk and puts her hands on her hips, an expression of extreme irritation on her face.

  “Haven’t you heard of knocking?” she growls.

  “Door was open already,” I protest. “And before you yell at me for not calling, I tried. A couple of times actually. But I think you already knew that.”

  “So you thought you’d just invade my office – again?”

  “It seemed like the only way I was going to get to talk to you,” I say evenly. “Unless your plan really was to ghost me?”

  Berlin lets out a long sigh and grumbles something under her breath to herself. She drops down into her seat and waves vaguely in my direction – which I guess is her invitation for me to sit down. Grinning at her, I walk in and take a seat in one of the chairs across from her. We stare at each other for a long moment, and I can feel the tension crackling in the air. But I get the impression that whatever is bothering her has nothing to do with me – but who she was talking to on the phone.

  “I’m sorry,” she begins. “I wasn’t intending to ghost you, Sawyer. It’s just – things have been really hectic lately.”

  As I look more closely at her, I can see the strain around her eyes. She looks like she hasn’t been sleeping much. Like she’s completely stressed out. Whatever’s going on in her world is obviously not good.

  “What’s going on, Berlin?”

  She won’t meet my eyes and fidgets with the papers on her desk. She looks for all the world like she’d rather be anywhere but right here – or that I was. In the past, with other women, I might have just glossed over it. I might have not been interested in what’s going on and what has them upset. But with Berlin, I find that I want to know. I want her to talk to me. And what’s more, that I want to do whatever I can to make it better for her. I want to help ease whatever burden she’s carrying.

  “Talk to me,” I press her. “Let me help. At the very least, let me listen.”

  She purses her lips but stops fidgeting. A moment later, she looks up, and a small grin tugs at the corner of her mouth.

  “I’m not going to get rid of you until I talk, am I?” she asks.

  “No, probably not.”

  I give her a grin, but her smile in return is weak. Tired. I sit back in the chair, folding one leg over the other, and clasp my hands together. As I sit there, I wonder if this has anything to do with her dad, and I immediately start trying to think of ways I can help. But I get the feeling that’s a subject that isn’t going to come up in normal conversation. Berlin is a prideful woman, and I just have a feeling that unless I bring it up, she’s not going to.

  “I know about your father,” I start, trying to be as gentle and delicate as I can. “I know about his Alzheimer’s.”

  Her face immediately darkens and grows even tighter. Clearly, I wasn’t as delicate as I wanted to be. Either that, or she’s more sensitive about it than I thought. Not that I can blame her for that. My dad was taken quickly. I have no idea what she’s going through, so the last thing I want to do is patronize her.

  “Fucking Rider,” she mutters. “Of course he told you.”

  “In his defense, I pretty much had to pull his fingernails out,” I protest. “He did not want to tell me.”

  “And yet, he did.”

  “I pushed him, Berlin,” I argue. “If you’re going to be mad at somebody, be mad at me.”

  “Oh, I am. But I should have known Rider wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut,” she snarls. “That’s my business, Sawyer. My personal business.”

  “I understand that,” I tell her. “And it will go no further than this office. I just want you to know I want to help. And that I’m here to listen if you want to talk. I can’t even begin to imagine the burden you’re carrying.”

  Berlin’s eyes narrow, and she glares daggers at me. “My father is not a burden –”

  I hold my hands up to cut her off, seeing that she’s angry and is lashing out right now. She falls silent but stares at me like she wants to kill me.

  “I’m not saying he’s a burden to you, Berlin,” I cut her off. “And I apologize if that’s how you took it.”

  “Maybe it’s because that’s exactly what it sounded like to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I try again. “I only meant that your having to deal with all this is unfair to you. Not that he’s a burden. I’m sorry if it seemed offensive. I really didn’t mean it in that way.”

  Berlin looks away and runs her hand through her hair. I can see her jaw clenching and unclenching. I can tell she’s fighting like hell to keep from blowing up on me, but it seems to be taking a Herculean effort on her part. After taking a minute to gather herself, Berlin looks back to me and appears to be slightly calmer – the key word here being slightly.

  “Thank you,” she concedes. “And I apologize for taking your head off.”

  I give her a tight smile. “I just want to help you,” I explain. “In any way I can.”

  “I appreciate that, Sawyer. I really do,” she sighs exasperated. “Right now, though, I just don’t know that getting involved with somebody is smart. I’ve got so much going on and –”

  My laughter cuts her off, and she looks at me, a dumbfounded expression on her face. First, she ghosts me, and now that I’m confronting her about that, she’s trying to cut things off before we even really begin.

  “I have to say, you are an anomaly in my life,” I say.

  “An anomaly?” She raises an eyebrow in warning.

  “I’ve never had to work so hard to get a woman to go out with me before.”

  I mean to keep things light. Hopefully to get a laugh or at the very least, a genuine smile out of her, but she’s not having it. Her glare could curdle milk. It’s actually kind of adorable, but I’m smart enough not to mention that right now.

  “I’m sorry to be so difficult for you,” she growls. “Let me make things a lot easier on you, Sawyer. I –”

  “Berlin, I get that you’ve got a lot on your plate,” I interject. “But shutting me out instead of letting me help you carry the load is only hurting you.”

  “And what if I said I don’t need any help?” she spits. “What if I tell you I’m doing just fine on my own?”

  “I’d say that you’re either too proud to admit that you’re not, or you’re lying – if not to me, then to yourself,” I fire back. “I can see the toll your life is taking on you.”

  She groans, and I can see the first cracks forming in that icy veneer she usually wraps herself up in. Berlin’s eyes shine with tears she’s bitterly hanging on to, refusing to let them fall.

  “What do you want from me, Sawyer?” she asks, her voice sounding as defeated as she looks.

  “I want you to realize that you’re not alone,” I respond. “Even though you take great pains to isolate yourself, you are not alone, and there are people around you more than willing to help you shoulder your burdens – even if it’s nothing more than just listening to you vent.”

  It’s then I see the first tears start to fall. They roll down her soft, alabaster colored cheeks. I have to fight the urge to walk around the desk and pull her into a tight embrace and kiss her tears away. I don’t feel like that’s the right play here and would push her away rather than pull her closer to me.

  “Do you really want to know what’s bothering me?” she mutters weakly.

  “I really do.”

  I adjust in the chair and settle back, getting myself comfortable since I get the feeling this is going to be involved. Berlin looks awkward and embarrassed. As if she’s suddenly not only uncertain of herself but regretting the decision to share her story with me. I get the feeling she thinks sharing her life in this manner implies a level of intimacy that maybe she’s not entirely ready for.

  To be honest, I’m not sure we’re there yet either. But to that I’d ask – if not now, when? Sometimes, ci
rcumstances force you out of your comfort zone, and this may be one of those times. But if stepping out of my own comfort zone means helping ease the burden being felt by somebody I’m coming to care a great deal about, then it’s well worth being a bit uncomfortable.

  I watch Berlin’s eyes dart around the room as if she’s expecting to see somebody eavesdropping on her. She’s clearly not comfortable talking about something so personal in the office.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I offer. “We’ll go grab some lunch or something.”

  She looks down at her desk; her face etched with unease. Berlin looks at the three folders sitting on her desk, and then at the clock mounted to the wall. She purses her lips as if trying to come to a decision. Finally, she nods.

  “Yeah, maybe some fresh air will do me some good,” she says.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Berlin

  “I think people in this town would stone me to death,” I say. “But I honestly prefer Chicago style dogs.”

  Sawyer turns to look at me, and I can’t help but laugh at the scandalized expression on his face.

  “Bite your tongue, heathen,” he grins. “This is New York. Everything is better here.”

  I hold up the plate in my lap. “Except the hot dogs.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s like I don’t even know you.”

  A genuine smile crosses my face – the first one in days, it seems like – and I laugh. Getting out of the office and into the crisp late Autumn air is doing me a lot of good. It’s helped clear my head and has somewhat pulled me out of the funk I’ve been mired in the last few days. As the bills pile up, I feel like my world has come crashing down around me, and I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how to fix everything that’s broken right now.

  “I couldn’t help but notice you’re a Mets fan,” he says. “I saw the picture in your office.”

  I nod. “Yeah, my dad is a Mets fan,” I note. “I grew up rooting for them.”

  “So you’ve always been a champion for the downtrodden and the underdog,” he grins.

  “Let me guess; you’re a Yankees fan.”

  “I knew you were smart.”

  I flash him a wry grin. “And I thought you were,” I fire. “Guess I was wrong.”

  He laughs long and loud, his voice booming out over the small lake. “She shoots, she scores.”

  “And let me guess – you’re a Rangers fan as well,” I add, rolling my eyes.

  “Which would mean you’re an Islanders fan.”

  “Of course,” I tell him. “I only support the best.”

  “Maybe you haven’t seen the Isles play in a while –”

  “Shut up,” I squeal with laughter as I slap him on the arm.

  My breath comes out in steamy plumes that drift away on the breeze. The sky above is the color of slate with the whispered hint of rain – perhaps even the first flakes of snow – that will be coming soon. It’s cool right now and it will be getting much colder very soon, but I find this kind of weather invigorating.

  We’re sitting in a small, somewhat secluded section of Central Park. Surrounded by trees, lots of green, and small hills, it’s easy to forget that we’re square in the middle of the crazed hustle and bustle of Manhattan. Sitting on the park bench in front of the peaceful, mostly still waters of a small lake, it’s easy to forget we’re not up in the Catskills or something.

  I breathe deeply, taking in a chest full of the cool, crisp air. I savor it. Relish the way it seems to energize me and clear my mind. I look over at Sawyer and give him a small smile.

  “Thank you for this,” I say. “Sitting out here is – just what I needed.”

  “I just got the feeling you needed to be somewhere without walls for a while,” he replies.

  I nod. “You don’t know how true that is.”

  When I finish off the last of my hot dog and chips, Sawyer takes my plate along with his, walking them over to a trash can. He comes back and drops down onto the bench beside me, and all I can think is how good and reassuring his presence feels. It should be the last thing on my mind – he should be the last thing on my mind. And yet, I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t help feeling comforted by having him beside me.

  It’s crazy to me to think that in such a short span of time – excluding our college years, of course – I’ve come to feel the way I feel about him. Especially given that we’re on opposite sides of the aisle about so many things. He is the sort of corporate CEO type I typically find reprehensible. The sort who doesn’t give a damn about the common person and the type who will ruin people’s lives all in the name of profit. Compass Development, like many other companies out there, victimize people just to turn a buck.

  And yet, there is a good heart beneath his gruff, corporate CEO exterior. Beneath the façade, Sawyer puts up and shows to the world is a good man. About that, Rider was very right. I’m just shocked as hell to see it. And yet I can’t deny that he’s nothing like the image he projects. He cares about people. Or at least, he cares about me, and that has led him to doing right by the people I’m trying to protect. But he’s funny. He’s warm. Kind. Thoughtful and intelligent.

  Basically, beneath the mask he wears, he’s everything I never thought he was back in college. He’s everything I never believed he was capable of being. It scares me to admit, but I trust him. I feel comfortable with him. And yeah, I care about him.

  But I can’t lie to myself either – I still have a certain wariness about him underneath all the hearts and flowers. Sawyer was always a player back in school. He probably slept with ninety-nine percent of the female students. If not, it sure seemed like it, anyway. He was with a different girl every few days, and there seemed to be a never-ending line of women who were all just waiting for a chance to throw their panties at him – and then be discarded a very short time later. It was like screwing Sawyer West was a badge of honor among the female student body or something. And there’s a small piece of me that wonders if he’s still like that – if he’s still a player whose only interest is in banging as many women in his lifetime as possible.

  I don’t get the impression that he is. He’s more centered and grounded. He’s more mature than he was back then. But I also need to remind myself that he’s the face of a multi-billion-dollar company and has to project a certain image. He has to carry himself with gravitas and a kind of wisdom. It could all just be an image he presents to the public that is as substantial as a puff of smoke on a breeze.

  I don’t believe it’s fake or an act. I truly believe that he is just as I find him. That getting laid isn’t his primary motivation with me. I’ve been fooled before. But until he proves me wrong, perhaps I need to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Gabs was right in that I owe it to myself to at least explore these feelings I’m having and see where it goes.

  I have no idea how I’ll juggle a relationship on top of everything else on my plate. But if this – thing – that exists between us is real, if it’s what I think it is and goes where I think it could, then I’ll find a way to make it work. Because if there’s one thing I do know, more clearly than anything else in my life, is that contrary to what people in my life may think, I don’t want to end up alone.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t called you since – that night,” I say softly.

  “I’ll admit, I was surprised. Ordinarily, I have to change my number because I get so many calls for a second round,” he replies, flashing me a grin.

  I laugh and shake my head. “Such a cocky asshole.”

  “I’ve been told it’s one of my better qualities.”

  “You were lied to.”

  We both laugh together for a moment, and I revel in the quiet in my mind. Seems like it’s the first time it’s been peaceful up there in a week. Sawyer looks over and gives me a gentle smile.

  “It’s okay,” he tells me. “I understand why you didn’t call. I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

  I nod absently, tucking a strand of hair
behind my ear and looking out across the lake. My heart lurches in my chest and feel a tingling throughout my body. I know that this is it. This is the point where I either choose to let him into my life or shut him out – possibly forever. I take a long, deep breath and then let it out slowly.

  “Things have been falling apart lately,” I start slowly. “That call you heard earlier…”

  My voice trails off. I swallow hard, having trouble getting the words out of my mouth. For his part, Sawyer remains silent. Patient. He doesn’t pressure me and seems content to let me play this out in my own way. And I appreciate him for that.

  “That was – my super,” I confess, my cheeks burning with shame. “He’s threatening to evict me.”

  “Evict you?” Sawyer asks, his voice full of surprise. “But why?”

  I sigh, my shame only deepening. “I’m behind on the rent. Again,” I admit. “The bills have been stacking up, and I’m having to rob Peter to pay Paul.”

  I fall silent and feel the tears of embarrassment sliding down my face. Sawyer reaches out and using his thumb, wipes the tears away. He leans forward and plants a gentle kiss on my forehead. It’s a comforting gesture that fills me with a sense of warm gratitude. He gives me a smile and wraps his arm around me as I lay my head on his shoulder.

  “Is it because of the cost of your father’s meds?” he questions.

  I nod and smile weakly. “That and because being a public defender doesn’t exactly afford you a champagne and caviar lifestyle,” I tell him. “It barely affords you a pizza and beer lifestyle.”

  The deep chuckle in his voice reverberates through my entire body and makes me smile. Despite the shitstorm my life has become of late, being with Sawyer brings me a sense of comfort. Happiness.

  I’ve been fighting it hard, but now, sitting here, feeling his body pressed to mine, I can’t deny it any longer. Even despite everything in my life, I’m happy with him.