Boss I Love To Hate Page 3

  “I’ve had enough of this bullshit. Get this riff-raff out of here,” Jones mutters, though his mic is hot and picks up his words – which ignites yet another round of the people’s anger.

  It takes Carver shouting into her mic and banging her gavel for all she’s worth for several long minutes before the crowd settles down again. When it’s finally calm in the chamber, Carver glares daggers at me.

  “Due to the unruly nature of this crowd, the chamber will be cleared, and the rest of borough business will be conducted behind closed doors,” she dismisses us.

  “Before we go,” I speak loudly and clearly into my mic. “Given the intransigence of this borough board, you have left me no choice but to file an injunction with the courts, which will prevent any development activity at the Atwell until the case is heard by a magistrate.”

  “Miss Roth, there is –”

  I wave Carver off and give her a feral grin. “And we know how long it can sometimes take to calendar a hearing, don’t we?”

  Rage etched upon her face, Carver and the rest of the board stand and disappear through the door behind their podium. I’m suddenly surrounded by people wanting to know what all of that meant. I spend quite a bit of time trying to reassure them, explain it all, and to really reinforce the point that this fight is very far from over.

  Because we’re just getting started.

  As I hold court with the Atwell’s residents, I catch sight of the two men in suits standing off to the side, conferring with each other. The dark haired man looks over and catches my eye. I’m once again awash in the certainty that I know him – I just can’t figure out from where. He gives me a smile that irrationally makes my heart flutter, and once the crowd around me begins to thin, he makes his way over to me.

  I say goodbye to the last of the residents, and he steps into the sudden emptiness around me.

  “Berlin Roth, it’s been quite a while,” he begins as the deep bass of his voice rumbles through my body enticingly. “Still intent on saving the world, I see.”

  “Trying to do my part,” I shrug. So he definitely does know me. I just don’t know him.

  “I guess we should get you a cape and some tights then,” he laughs.

  The man extends his hand, and I shake it automatically. As we shake, though, I search his face – and my memory banks – trying to figure out where I know this man from. He wasn’t a client, that much I know. I think I’d remember somebody like him if I had to defend him in court. So who is he?

  He chuckles, that deep rumble in his voice sending goosebumps marching across my skin. This man – whoever he is – is absolutely beautiful and just oozes sex appeal from his every pore. To be honest, I don’t have a lot of experience with men – I’ve never had sex before – but what I can say with certainty is that no man has ever made me feel the physical sensations this guy is making me feel right now.

  “Sawyer West,” he finally says. “And it apparently has been quite a while.”

  I laugh apologetically and shake my head, still not making the connection in my mind. But as I look up into his rich, dark eyes that are lit from within, it hits me like a lightning bolt out of nowhere. “Of course,” I say, shaking my head and doing my best not to feel embarrassed. “We met at NYU. I’m sorry, you just –”

  “Didn’t make a lasting impression on you, apparently,” he grins. “I have to admit, that’s a first for me.”

  And just like that, I recall everything about Sawyer West – including why I’d purged him from my brain. We didn’t run in the same circles, but there was some overlap in our respective groups of friends. He was always the party boy. He came from a wealthy family. Like, a really wealthy family. One of the wealthiest families in all of New York, in fact. Embarrassingly rich would probably be the best way to describe his family.

  Knowing his father would one day turn over the keys to whatever their kingdom was, Sawyer thought he walked on water. He was smug, arrogant, and a chauvinistic pig who screwed a different girl like every night – just because he could. And when he was done with them, he threw them away like garbage. Sawyer didn’t think the rules applied to him, and he walked around, flaunting his wealth like he was king of the world.

  Yeah, he and I didn’t really get on that well. And yet despite the disconnect between us – not to mention my more than obvious dislike of the man – he continued chasing me. He tried to get into my pants more than once. He was persistent in trying to date me to the point of being annoying. Way annoying. And remembering everything I do about him now automatically shuts down the flutter in my heart and the stars in my eyes.

  “That was quite the performance,” he grins. “Not sure you made a lot of friends on the board though.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to advocate for my clients.”

  He nods. “I can see that. And it was quite the impassioned advocacy,” he notes. “I’m not sure it’s going to go your way, though.”

  “Which is why I am going to court to file an injunction –”

  “Which you’re going to lose.”

  “Eventually. But I knew this was an uphill fight to begin with,” I concede. “I’m hoping to muck up the works long enough to give the residents the delay I asked for.”

  “And that was twelve to eighteen months,” he states.

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, do you think that’s fair to Compass Development?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “I mean, they did pay for the building already. Holding up the development of that property –”

  “Is going to ruin the lives of the people at the Atwell. Some of them have been there for decades,” I hiss. “Is it fair that they’re getting tossed out on the street because some asshole with a fat wallet pried it away from the previous owner?”

  He shrugs, an infuriating smirk on his face. God, how I remember that arrogance. “It’s progress. It’s the way of the world, Berlin.”

  “Yeah well, I don’t agree that people – good people – getting ground up in the gears of your progress should be the way of the world.”

  The dark haired man looks over and catches my eye. Which shouldn’t surprise me all, that much since the man was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. My experience has taught me that people who are born into money have little understanding or concern for the plight of people lower on the socioeconomic ladder than them. Sawyer is a perfect case in point.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” I ask the question that should have been obvious to me.

  He shrugs. “I do a lot of business in this borough,” he tells me. “It’s good for me to know the mood of the board. I like to know their inclinations and all the players.”

  I give him a sidelong glance. “What kind of business are you in again?”

  He shrugs. “This and that – I believe in having multiple revenue streams,” he replies smoothly. “So, were you serious about going to court with this?”

  “Of course I was,” I respond. “The lives of these people are hanging in the balance.”

  “That seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

  I feel a bright bolt of anger flash through me. I glare at Sawyer. His casual dismissal simply goes to what I thought earlier – about his inability to relate and his ignorance about the plight of people who aren’t as fortunate as he is. I take a moment and let out a silent breath. Sawyer is annoying, but he’s not the enemy here.

  “If anything, I feel like I’m underselling it,” my tone is cold. “Most of these people don’t have the luxury of just up and moving. And with the gentrification going on everywhere, rent is rising. Where are these people supposed to go? They’ll be out on the street.”

  That seemed to get through to him somehow. He raises his eyebrows, then looks away for a moment.

  “Let me ask you this – do you really think a twelve to eighteen-month reprieve will change anything?” he asks. The tone of his voice is soft, like he’s genuinely asking. “I mean, you’re likely going to lose your
fight for an injunction – even you recognize that. So what does that time and energy you’re burning in this fight buy you?”

  I shrug. “It will give the residents adequate time to prepare. Give them the time to find another place to call home,” I reply. “That can make all the difference.”

  The expression on his face is supposed to look sympathetic, I guess, but it falls short and just looks false. Insincere. Or maybe I’m just bitter and angry right now and am misinterpreting his expressions and words. To me, Sawyer West represents everything I stand against – the relentless march of corporate wealth and the flippant dismissal of the common person. The message they send out is, if you don’t make a certain amount of money, you and your life are meaningless.

  To be honest, his questions weren’t bad questions. They show a lack of understanding, yes, but the way he asked them shows that he is actually trying to understand the complexities of this situation. He hasn’t automatically taken offense to what I’ve said to him and seems like he’s considering things in a way he’s not used to.

  Which of course, makes me wonder what line of work he’s in and how he’s planning to use my words to exploit the people of this borough.

  “I do a lot of business in this city. And I know a lot of people,” he says. “What if I were to speak with the people at Compass to see how amenable they’d be to an eighteen-month reprieve to avoid the time and cost of a court fight?”

  I look at him and arch an eyebrow, waiting for the price tag of this magnanimous gesture – because I know there is one. Nobody ever just does something out of the goodness of their hearts in this town. He looks at me though and says nothing as he waits for my answer. Being the cynic I am, I know there are strings attached, so I guess my job now is to flush them out.

  “That’s a very generous offer,” I tell him. “And what is the catch?”

  He shrugs. “No catch.”

  “So you’d just do this out of the goodness of your heart?”

  A roguish grin tugs the corners of his mouth upward and makes his eyes sparkle in that way that makes my heart and stomach lurch simultaneously. Though I’m doing my best to control my physical reaction to the man, I’m failing miserably and am growing more flushed by the second.

  “Believe it or not, but I’m not the same guy I was back in college, Berlin,” he declares. “I’ve grown up a lot.”

  “I can see that,” I reply. “So you’ll really speak to the people at Compass?”

  He nods. “I will.”

  My heart is turning somersaults in my chest, and I realize I may have to re-evaluate my initial impressions of the man. Maybe. He was always clever as a fox, and there’s part of me wondering whether this is just another ploy to get into my pants – to complete the conquest he failed to complete all those years ago.

  But then I wonder if it’s conceited of me to even have that thought in the first place. A thousand different thoughts come crashing down on me at once I suddenly start feeling claustrophobic. I need to get out of here. Yeah, this man clouds things up in my head – which tells me he’s dangerous for me, and that I should probably stay well clear of him.

  “Well – thank you, Sawyer,” I say. “I really appreciate that.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  A moment of awkward silence passes between us. We’ve apparently run out of things to say. I clear my throat and glance down at my watch. It’s getting late, and I need to get back home to relieve Nadia.

  “Anyway, I should get going,” I tell him. “I have some work to do tonight. Thank you – for speaking to the people at Compass. It means a lot.”

  “Right. Yeah. It was good seeing you again,” he responds.

  “Yeah, you too.”

  I grab my bag and turn to leave, but his voice stops me. I turn back around to find him looking at me with an expression of curiosity on his face.

  “Hey, let’s get together and catch up,” he adds.

  “Uhhh – sure. Yeah.”

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it, and punches in a few things before handing it over to me – obviously wanting me to put my number in for him. My smile is weak, but I take his phone and hesitate for a moment. It’s not like we were friends back in college – what is there for us to catch up on? It’s not like we have anything in common or run in the same social circles, and it’s not like we have some shared past between us.

  But then I feel caught. I can see that although he’s clearly still smug and arrogant, that he’s matured a bit. I can’t really explain it other than to say that he just seems different. He doesn’t seem like the spoiled little boy anymore – he honestly does seem more like a grown man who’s matured. He just feels more like a guy who – although he obviously still can’t relate to the plight of people not as well off as he – has some hard-won life experience under his belt. He still lacks a certain compassion for regular people, but there is a wisdom I can see in his eyes.

  And let’s not forget, he’s doing me a big solid by talking to the people at Compass – or so he says. Part of me is absolutely convinced this is just another ploy, just another tactic he’s employing to get me into bed. But even if he did speak to the people at Compass for me, it’s not like I asked him to do it, which means it’s not like I actually owe him anything.

  Regardless of anything else – he and I are of two different worlds. Without even having gone out with him, I feel pretty comfortable saying we have as much in common today as we did back in school – which is to say, nothing. Yeah, he’s absolutely gorgeous, but it’s not like we have some shared connection. I punch in a number and hand the phone back to him with a smile as warm as I can manage.

  “Great,” he flashes me a million-dollar grin. “I’ll call you.”

  “Terrific. I’ll look forward to it.”

  Chapter Four

  Sawyer

  “Berlin Roth,” Rider says. “She grew up pretty nice.”

  “You’re not lying,” I laugh.

  Back in college, Berlin was a beautiful girl. But she’s grown into a woman who is absolutely stunning. Her hair is the same shade of black, and her eyes are a shade of blue so light; they almost look silver. And the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose gives her a wholesome, girl next door appeal. Berlin’s skin is so fair she looks like she was carved from alabaster, and she’s got the most tantalizing curves – full hips, full breasts, and a perfectly round ass that is absolutely amazing.

  Back then, she definitely had that hot nerd girl vibe going on. Today, she carries an air of refinement and sophistication that’s tantalizing. One thing that hasn’t changed is that she’s still so independent and passionate – which is like catnip to me. She’s still that sexy nerd, but she’s grown into so much more than that. Rider is far from wrong in saying she grew up nice.

  “Man, how long has it been?” Rider muses.

  “What, seven or eight years maybe?” I ponder. “It’s been a while.”

  Rider and I are sitting in our usual haunt, a pub near the office called Roosevelt’s. It’s an upscale pub done in highly polished oak and brass and has a very old-time feel to it that harkens back to the days of the Roaring Twenties. They’re well known for the craft beers they brew and a creative appetizer menu that helps make them a popular spot for the city’s movers and shakers.

  I haven’t seen Berlin since college, and if I’m being honest, I’d all but forgotten about her. At least, until I saw her in the borough board room tonight. The second I saw her, I remembered her instantly, and a moment after that, everything came rushing back to me – like all my unsuccessful attempts to get her into bed back in the day. That was something Rider enjoyed reminding me of far too much. Despite all the women I did manage to get into bed during college, the fact that I could never even get close with Berlin amused him to no end.

  “So she gave you her number?” Rider gives me a sidelong glance, a smirk on his face.

  “She did,” I confirm.

  He nods. “Well,
that’s a step forward,” he laughs. “You couldn’t even get that back in school.”

  “Still dining out on that, huh?”

  “Always will.” He raises his glass of beer to me. “It’s not every day I get to see the great Sawyer West reduced to a flaming pile of ruin by a woman. And need I remind you, I got to see that repeatedly? Have to enjoy it when I can.”

  “Glad you can enjoy my failings,” I note wryly.

  He shrugs. “A little bit of schadenfreude never killed anybody.”

  I chuckle as I take a long pull of my beer. I suppose I should take it as a compliment that Rider harasses me so relentlessly about not being able to close the deal with Berlin, simply because he doesn’t have anything else he can give me shit about. Generally speaking – be it business, or with women – when I go after something, I get what I want. I know some people think that makes me sound cocky or arrogant, but it’s not intended to be. It’s just a statement of fact.

  “So you think you’re actually going to be able to seal the deal this time?” Rider asks.

  “Have you ever known me to not get what I’m after?”

  “You mean, besides Berlin?”

  I laugh. “Walked into that one.”

  “Yes you did.”

  I lean back in the booth and take a long drink and think about Berlin. Back in school, I pursued her hard. To be honest, the chase was a turn on. It was new and exciting for me. Of course, coming up empty wasn’t the outcome I’d wanted, but there was nothing I could do about it.

  But the truth of the matter is that it wasn’t just my desire to sleep with her that made me chase Berlin as hard as I did. I mean, yeah, I wanted to sleep with her. She was sexy as hell back then. But it was more than that, and I don’t think I even realized it until much later.

  “She’s different,” I mutter.

  “What was that?”

  I drain the last of my beer and signal our waitress for another. She waves to let me know she’ll be over in a moment, so I sit back and wait.