Boss I Love To Hate Page 23

  “Clearly.”

  “While there certainly is a place for that drill sergeant mentality in this office, I believe too much of it breeds stagnation and stifles creativity – not to mention kills morale,” he explains. “I want this to be a place where people want to come work. I want people to enjoy their job. A happy and satisfied workforce produces at a higher level than offices that have a demoralized and beaten down workforce – that’s a scientific fact.”

  “So you encourage this three-ring circus then?”

  “Oh come on, Berlin,” he argues. “It’s not like people are swinging from the chandeliers or getting drunk and setting things on fire out there.”

  “Pretty close to it,” I counter. “I’ve never seen such a zoo in the workplace before.”

  “I am very demanding and can be incredibly exacting. When there is work to do, I expect it to be done. You know this,” he goes on, almost taking it personally. “But so long as people are doing the work they’re being paid to do; I encourage them to enjoy themselves – so long as things don’t get out of hand. Believe it or not, there are certain lines that can never be crossed.”

  “We may have different definitions of things getting out of hand.”

  “We just may,” he replies. “It wouldn’t be the first time we didn’t agree on something, and I suspect it won’t be the last.”

  “Oh, I guarantee it.”

  He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing me for a moment. I shrink back into my seat, seeing that he’s upset. I see his brows furrowing, his jaw flexing, and know that I may be pushing him too hard. I’m just not used to this sort of clown car environment in the workplace.

  But I know it’s more than that. I’m not mad at Sawyer for his antics so much, as I am mad at myself right now. I’ve got a lot going on, and I’m not handling it all particularly well. Sawyer and I have been spending a lot of time together, often going to dinner after work and spending some evenings together. But my dad is always in the back of my mind, which dulls the shine on things for me. He’s been having more bad days than good lately. I worry that it won’t be long before he’s gone completely. It’s a constant distraction and stress on me.

  Added to that stress, I feel like I’m imposing on Nadia – though she argues otherwise – which puts added pressure on me. She tells me that she’s happy I’ve found somebody I enjoy spending time with – and I really do. I enjoy my time with Sawyer, away from this office. A lot. My feelings for him continue to grow, and that scares me because I don’t know what to do with it. I know he feels the same way, but with everything else going on, I haven’t been able to give myself over to him completely. It’s created a bit of a distance between us. I know it frustrates him.

  But I know none of that even compares to the distance that’s been created by the fact that I still haven’t told him I’m pregnant. Oh, I’ve tried to a million times already. I have a speech in my head that I’ve practiced in front of a mirror so often, I can recite it by memory. But when it comes to working up the nerve to actually deliver the speech, I have failed every single time.

  My failings and fears are what’s really gotten under my skin. Not that the antics around the office haven’t played a part, but my anger is mostly directed inward – I’m just lashing out at him right now since he called me into his office for no other reason than to say hello. Again.

  “What’s going on with you, Berlin?”

  “What do you mean?” I snap.

  “You just seem – off,” he notes. “I mean, I know you have a lot on your plate, but there’s something else. Something you’re not telling me.”

  I still haven’t given him an answer to what really is a generous offer. I would never feel right about taking that kind of money, benefit or not – I saw what Rose Hills charges per month, and it’s more than I make even at the exorbitant salary I’m making as an employee at Compass. There is no way I’d ever be able to afford putting my father into a facility like that on my own.

  There are a lot of benefits to taking Sawyer up on his offer – not the least of which is that I’d get to have a life. I’d get to spend more time with Sawyer and not have to worry about making sure I’m home to care for my dad. Plus, he’d get the sort of care and attention Nadia and I are completely incapable of giving him.

  I have no idea what I’m going to do yet – and I vowed to myself that if I opted to accept Sawyer’s help, I wouldn’t do so until I told him about the baby. He’s eventually going to force a decision from me. I have a feeling that moment is coming soon, so I need to find a way to suck it up and tell him. It’s only fair – and right – that he has all the facts and knows he’s going to be a father before I start accepting money from him.

  “What is it, Berlin?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, looking away.

  He arches an eyebrow at me. “You don’t?”

  My stomach churns and roils, matching what’s going on with my heart. My throat is dry, but my palms are suddenly sweaty. He’s looking at me with a mix of confusion and worry on his face. He knows I’m hiding something, but he doesn’t know what. This is the moment where I have to decide what to do. Now is the moment I need to make a decision – be a grown-up and tackle this head-on, albeit a bit late, or keep hiding and acting like the child I’ve just railed on Sawyer for being.

  Neither option sounds particularly good to me right now.

  “I really noticed it the night you came over to tell me you were going to take the job,” he says. “I saw it in your eyes – there’s something going on, but you’re not telling me.”

  I sigh and tug on the ends of my hair as I look down at the tops of my shoes. I open my mouth but quickly close it again, not trusting myself to speak in the moment.

  “I’ve given you space, Berlin. I haven’t wanted to press or try to solve your problems for you,” he goes on, his tone growing as serious as his expression. “I’ve been waiting for you to come talk to me about whatever’s on your mind. But it seems kind of clear you’re not going to. Not on your own anyway. So please, talk to me.”

  I open my mouth but still can’t find my voice. I know the next words that come out of my mouth will alter both of our lives forever, and I don’t want to just blurt it out. I want what I say to be right – whatever that means. But as I try to organize my thoughts, all I see is a jumble of disconnected words that have no meaning whatsoever. Nothing in my head is making sense right now, and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to force it to.

  “Berlin, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen,” he urges me. “And whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”

  I raise my head and look him in the eye, my stomach churning so wildly, I’m half-afraid I’m going to vomit on his desk.

  But I have to tell him. I have to. No more waiting. No more excuses.

  “Sawyer, I’m pregnant.”

  So much for not just blurting it out. I might as well have vomited on his desk for all the grace and care I used in informing him that his world is about to be turned upside down. He leans back in his seat, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, a look of stunned disbelief on his face. After several long minutes of just staring at me, Sawyer gives himself a small shake and leans forward again.

  “Say again?” His voice is weak and hoarse.

  “I’m pregnant,” I repeat. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but I –”

  He laughs softly and runs a hand through his hair. “Blunt is fine,” he stammers. “There really is no delicate way to drop a bomb like that.”

  Judging by the way he’s acting, I can tell he is already going into self-defense and preservation mode. His demeanor turns cool, and it feels like he’s building the walls around him and closing the gate. Shutting me out. It sets off a hot flare of anger inside of me. But more than the anger, the sudden cold front emanating from him makes me feel like I’m stranded on an island. Utterly alone.

  I don’t know what I expected him to say or do. But I didn’t e
xpect that he’d make me feel so isolated and alone with this. We’ve been growing so close. I thought we were building something special between us – something with a future. But now? Now, I have no idea what he’s thinking or feeling – and it’s a crushing blow.

  All of a sudden, it feels like there is a yawning chasm between us, and the longer the silence between us stretches on, the farther away he’s getting. His brown eyes bore into mine, but rather than the warmth and vibrancy I normally see in them; I see nothing but a cool detachment. His face has become blank as if he’s wearing a mask of indifference. I can’t read him. I have no idea what he’s thinking or feeling in that moment, and he won’t talk to me.

  “Say something,” I urge him. “Please?”

  “I – I’m processing. I’m not sure what to say right now.” He runs a hand across his face. “I did not see this coming. Wow.”

  The white-hot anger inside of me starts to forge something hard. I see the way this is going and feel the need to start armoring and protecting myself. As much as it kills me, in the back of my mind, I knew there was a possibility he wouldn’t want anything to do with a child. But there was a part of me that hoped otherwise.

  He’s such a different person than the selfish asshole I knew in college, and just in the couple of months we’ve been seeing each other now, I’ve seen him change even more. He’s become kinder, softer, more compassionate. As our feelings for each other have grown, I’ve seen him becoming a better version of himself – one who thinks of others first, rather than himself.

  As I look into his flat, almost dead eyes now, though, I see that it was all just an illusion. A mirage – like an oasis in the desert. Now that the chips are down, all pretenses have faded away, and I see him for who he really is. I see that I was very wrong about Sawyer West.

  He’s still the same narcissistic, selfish, self-centered asshole I knew him to be back in school.

  He hasn’t changed a bit – he’s just learned to make the window dressing around him prettier and more appealing. And people have the nerve to call women honey traps.

  “Look, I don’t want anything from you,” I snap. “I just thought you should know. I’m going to have this baby, but don’t worry, I don’t expect you to be a part of our lives.”

  “Berlin, I –”

  “Save it. Just fucking save it,” I interrupt. “I don’t want a damn thing from you. In fact, just leave me the hell alone. I don’t want to see you again.”

  I get to my feet and bolt for his office door but stop and turn around. It feels like there’s a brick – a cold, greasy brick – that’s settled in the pit of my stomach. My heart feels like it’s been torn into a million pieces. My eyes sting with tears, and I feel them rolling down my face. I don’t even bother trying to wipe them away. My vision is blurry as I stare at him. I’ve never felt so alone in all my life.

  “I was wrong about you. I was so fucking wrong about you. You’re no different today than you were all those years ago, and I curse the fucking day you walked back into my life,” I cry. “But most of all, I hate myself for believing you’d changed. God damn you, Sawyer.”

  “Berlin wait –”

  I don’t wait though, and throw his office door open, before sprinting to my office and grabbing my things. I feel the eyes all on me as I rush down the hall and to the elevators. As the doors start to slide closed, I hear Sawyer’s voice calling my name. I stab the button hard and repeatedly, willing the door to close faster and for the car to descend.

  Through the gap between the elevator doors, I see Sawyer rushing toward me. I stare him down with tears and fury in my eyes. Thankfully, they finally slide shut before he gets to the car. Once they do, my resolve shatters, and I collapse, my back to the wall. I slide down, ending up on my butt as I sob wildly.

  I wrap my arms around myself and squeeze tight, cursing Sawyer and cursing my entire life. But I curse myself for being so fucking stupid – how could I have believed he’d really changed? But most of all, I curse myself for being so stupid as to let myself fall in love with him.

  I tip my head back and let out a primal, animalistic scream that fills the elevator car with the sound of my pain.

  Chapter Thirty

  Sawyer

  I step off the elevator and find Berlin’s apartment door. I don’t know that this is the wisest course of action, but given how she stormed out of the office yesterday, I’m thinking this may be my only course of action.

  She didn’t show up at work today. I was hoping that after she had a night to cool off and take the emotion out of the situation, cooler heads would prevail, and we could talk about it like adults. At the very least, I hoped she’d give me a chance to talk.

  But apparently, I was foolish to think that was even a possibility. And so, here I am outside her door. About to have one of the most consequential conversations in my entire life. What we say here is going to impact the rest of our lives.

  Assuming she’ll even open the door for me, that is.

  Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, and then rap on the door sharply. I hear footsteps approaching, and a moment later, a tiny woman in her mid-twenties with dark hair and darker eyes opens the door. She looks me up and down with a look of utter disdain on her face. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t even make that face at a pile of dog shit she just stepped in.

  “Well, you must be Nadia,” I announce. “And I’m guessing my reputation precedes me.”

  She makes a scoffing sound. I’m pretty sure she just rolled her eyes so hard; she got a good look at her brain.

  “What do you want?” she spits.

  “I’d like to speak with Berlin.”

  “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  I slip my hands into the pockets of my overcoat and nod. “I understand she feels that way but –”

  “There’s no but. She doesn’t want to see you, and I don’t blame her,” she cuts me off. “You’re an asshole, and you need to leave.”

  She moves to slam the door in my face, but I throw my foot in the crack, preventing her from closing it. She looks at me with fire in her eyes and a murderous expression on her face. She raises herself to her full five-foot-three height and puffs up her hundred-pound body, glaring hard at me – making it difficult for me to keep from laughing. She’s as intimidating as a box of kittens. But I choke back my amusement out of respect.

  “You need to move your fuckin’ foot and get out of here,” she growls. “Or I’m going to call the cops.”

  “I see that temper is a family trait.”

  If she clenches her jaw any harder, she’s going to crack her teeth. “I mean it. I’ll call the cops.”

  “Go ahead and call them, then,” I shrug. “I’m not going anywhere until I speak with Berlin.”

  “What part of ‘she doesn’t want to speak with you’ do you not understand?”

  “Oh, I understand perfectly well,” I fire back, irritation starting to seep into my voice. “I just don’t care. If she really doesn’t want to speak with me, she can be an adult and tell me herself.”

  I pitch my voice loud enough to be sure Berlin can hear me. Judging by the building, I’m sure the apartments aren’t very big. My voice carries, so I should be good on that count. A moment later, Nadia turns away from me, and I hear a whispered voice coming from behind the door. She turns back to me, and with a look that could melt steel, she turns away and walks deeper into the apartment. Berlin steps into the breach, her expression not all that different from her cousin’s.

  “I thought I made myself pretty clear yesterday,” she snaps. “You know; when I told you that I never wanted to see you again.”

  “Sure, but that was hardly fair,” I respond. “You can’t drop a bombshell like that on me and expect me not to take a minute to gather myself and process it all. I mean, that’s a pretty big fucking deal, Berlin.”

  “You were pretty clear that you weren’t interested –”

  “How would you know what I was thinking or feel
ing in that moment?” I growl. “You never even gave me a chance to speak.”

  “The look on your face –”

  “Oh, so you’re going to convict me based on your interpretation of a facial expression?” I mock her. “Tell me, how would that go down in court? Can you convict somebody based on your interpretation – or rather, misinterpretation in this case – of my expression?”

  I see her eyes narrow and her cheeks growing red. I can feel the tension rising and a dark, angry energy crackling in the air around us. This is going off the rails quickly. I need to quickly defuse this situation before it gets out of hand and we both end up saying something we’ll regret later. Or at least, something I’ll regret later.

  “Berlin, one thing I know about you is that you’re fair,” I begin. “You didn’t give me a real chance to talk yesterday. You just blew up and stormed out. I think we need to talk about this. Together.”

  Her eyes shift to the floor, and she chews on her thumbnail nervously. I can see her processing my words for a long moment.

  “Or you can just listen to what I have to say,” I continue. “And at the end of this conversation – or monologue – if you don’t like what you hear, I’ll never darken your doorstep again. You have my word.”

  She chews on her bottom lip thoughtfully for another moment before finally looking up at me and nods – of course, she’s still got that murderous gleam in her eyes. But hey, baby steps, right?

  “Fine,” she sighs. “If listening to you will get you off my doorstep, let me get my coat.”

  She closes the door. I have to wait a few minutes before she returns with a thick coat on over her yoga pants and hoodie. After closing the door behind her, she pulls a scarf from her pocket and starts to wind it around her neck, prompting me to chuckle.

  “It’s not that cold out there,” I observe. “The way your cousin was staring at me made me feel frostier.”