Boss I Love To Hate Page 31

  I purse my lips and nod, letting Haley’s words sink in for a moment. Glancing at my watch, I get to my feet. I have some work to do, and before I go back to Berlin to try and patch things up, I want all my ducks in a row. I want to be able to hit the ground running.

  “I’ll be in touch,” I tell her and turn to walk off.

  “Hey, Sawyer.”

  I turn back to her and find her staring at me with an intense compassion and earnestness in her eyes.

  “Don’t fuck it up. Not just for my sake, but for yours,” she states. “I kind of get the feeling you’ll never forgive yourself if you do.”

  I pause for a moment and then give her a nod as I turn and walk away.

  I know that she’s right. I need to find a way to mend the divide between Berlin and I once and for all.

  Chapter Forty

  Berlin

  It’s been a couple of days since the blowout at the restaurant. I’ve been alternating between a righteous anger and an unshakeable embarrassment for how I conducted myself. I acted like a psycho girlfriend – in full view of the paparazzi. Gabby was more than happy to forward me the pictures they got of me slapping Sawyer, along with the accompanying articles speculating on what happened – and of course, resurrecting the stories about Sawyer’s past and his endless string of women.

  Against my better judgment, I read the articles, and I have to admit; the stories about Sawyer’s wild past have done nothing to help my insecurities. The doubts I have about myself have flared to life, bigger and brighter than ever. Especially when I start comparing myself with the leggy blonde, he was with. The tabloid article said she was named Haley Palmer but didn’t give a lot of information about her. Probably just some wealthy socialite.

  As shitty as I feel right now, I’m sure Sawyer is doubly pissed about how all of this shook out. And if I’m being fair, I can understand why he hasn’t tried to contact me to smooth things over. He probably needs a minute to calm himself down.

  I know my reaction was based on the belief that he’d cheated on me. But now that I’ve had a couple days to think about it – and really, I haven’t thought about much else – I realize that my reaction was rooted in how I feel about myself. I have no idea what he was meeting with her about, and I know that he will sometimes have to meet with women. And logically, I know it’s business and that he’s not sleeping with them. Emotionally, it’s a different story in my mind.

  I assumed he’d replaced me because deep down, I don’t feel worthy or good enough for somebody like him. Haley Palmer is the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and it automatically made me feel like shit. It’s an issue I’ve dealt with my entire life. One I don’t know how to overcome – and because I haven’t been able to overcome it, I may have ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  I stand on the balcony, overlooking the city below us, taking in all the lights and colors as I feel sorry for myself. In a city teeming with people, I feel utterly alone, and I hate it. With a long sigh, I walk back inside and head down to the nursery. The lights come on automatically when I enter the room, and I look around, a wan smile touching my lips.

  After coming back from that weekend in the Catskills, Sawyer and I started building the nursery for our baby together. I look at the crib, the soft rocking chair in the corner Sawyer insisted I use when I nurse, the colorful blankets, and the solar system mobile hanging over the crib. We still have some time before I have my baby, but not for the first time in the last couple of days, I wonder if I’ll be raising this child on my own.

  It’s a thought that never fails to make the feelings of sadness and isolation even more profound.

  I’m walking out of the nursery when I hear a knock at the door. My heart turns a somersault in my chest, thinking it’s Sawyer. I run to the door and fling it open, ready to either throw myself into his arms or scream his ear off again, not sure yet, when I stop dead in my tracks. The disappointment settles into my stomach like a heavy stone. Rider looks me up and down, an amused smirk pulling one corner of his mouth upward.

  “Please tell me you’re not eating ice cream out of the carton and watching chick flicks,” he starts. “I want to believe you’re not that cliché.”

  “Fuck off, Rider,” I snap, pulling my fuzzy purple robe tighter around me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I am here to escort you to a meeting,” he tells me.

  “What meeting?”

  “The meeting I was asked to drive you to.”

  “I’m closing the door now.”

  “You don’t want to do that. Trust me,” he replies. “Sawyer asked me to bring you down.”

  “If he wants me at this meeting, why didn’t he come himself?”

  “He had to attend to some of the details.”

  I’m torn between wanting to close the door in Rider’s face and getting ready for this mysterious meeting. I have no idea what Sawyer is up to, but if I had my choice, I’d rather speak with him alone. I don’t want to have this discussion in public. More than that, I don’t think this is a discussion we should have in public. This is a private thing between us and should be kept that way. Not that having a meltdown in front of the paparazzi accomplished that all that well. And maybe because of that, I’ve lost the right to dictate how we’re going to get together.

  “Between you and me, he misses you, Berlin. He’s been beside himself,” Rider confides. “He really wants to see you. So please, get dressed and come with me. Or, come with me in your fluffy robe and fuzzy slippers if you’re more comfortable. But I have to warn you; it’s cold as hell outside.”

  “What is he planning, Rider?”

  “Afraid I can’t tell you that,” he replies. “I was told that if I let the cat out of the bag, he would cut my balls off with a butter knife.”

  “I could do the same thing right now if you don’t tell me.”

  “No offense Berlin, but I’m more afraid of him,” Rider protests. “He’s a lot meaner than you are and is far more likely to make good on the threat.”

  He’s probably right about that. “Fine. Come in and wait while I get dressed.”

  Turning away, I leave the door open and walk back in to get ready for whatever is happening.

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, Rider pulls to a stop on the street in front of the Jackson. I blink stupidly as I try to decipher what it is, I’m seeing. Large tents have been set up, and strings of bare bulbs light up the area. The street has been blocked off and is empty except for Rider’s SUV and half a dozen food trucks that are lined up in front of the building. It looks like every single resident of the Jackson – nearly fifteen hundred people – are milling around eating, laughing, and talking with one another.

  It looks like a party.

  “What is going on here?” I ask.

  “Get out and find out.”

  Rider exits the vehicle, then comes around to my side and opens the door for me. Clutching my satchel to my chest, I climb out of the car – I thought it might be the last opportunity I had to present the package I’d put together for Sawyer and wanted to be prepared.

  Christmas carols are ringing through the air, and the buzz of conversation is loud and lively. Rider closes the door behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder. I look up at him, still not comprehending what’s happening here.

  “I told you that you were going to be a good influence on him,” Rider says.

  I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Come on,” he tells me, an enigmatic smile on his face. “Sawyer’s waiting for you.”

  “He’s here?”

  “Of course he is.”

  My sense of confusion only deepens – what in the hell is Sawyer doing here? And why does it seem like he’s partying with the people of the Jackson? As if I’m moving in a trance, I let Rider guide me into the throng of people. My head is spinning. I’m surrounded by the sound of laughter, Christmas music, and revelry. And then suddenly Sawyer is there,
his smile wide, and his eyes twinkling mischievously. He has his arm around the shoulders or an elderly black woman who’s smiling just as wide as he is.

  “Berlin, I’m glad you could make it,” he calls over. “I’d like you to meet Martha. She’s been a resident here at the Jackson for forty years. Can you believe it?”

  “Forty-three,” she corrects him.

  “Apologies, Martha,” he laughs. “She’s been a resident here for forty-three years.”

  “I – it’s nice to meet you, Martha,” I respond woodenly, my sense of disbelief growing thicker by the second.

  “You were right,” Martha grins at Sawyer. “She’s absolutely stunning. You two are gonna have some gorgeous babies.”

  Sawyer laughs, but I can’t help but see the unmistakable light of pride in his eyes. I can see a genuine affection between Sawyer and Martha that is mind-boggling to me. I have no idea how they even know each other. I feel like I’m walking through a dream. Like I’m going to wake up, and this world of the bizarre will blow away like cobwebs on a breeze.

  “Sawyer, what’s happening here?”

  Martha gives him a kiss on the cheek and then smiles at me as she takes my hand. “I’m gonna give you two a minute to talk, but you have yourself a good man here. They don’t build ‘em like this anymore,” she says. “Hold onto this one – or I might take him for myself!”

  She erupts with laughter, melting away into the crowd, leaving Sawyer and I standing there awkwardly. He chortles along with her for a moment, but then returns to me, his gaze pinning me to the spot.

  A moment later, the leggy blonde – Haley Palmer – materializes nearly out of thin air and is standing beside him. She favors me with the most perfectly dazzling smile I’ve ever seen before. I swear to God, does this woman have a single flaw? I’d be willing to bet she doesn’t even sweat.

  “Berlin Roth, I’d like to introduce you to Haley Palmer,” Sawyer begins.

  I give her an awkward smile and shake her hand. “Yeah, I saw your name in the tabloid article.”

  She laughs, her voice rich and refined, sounding like elegant glass windchimes in a light breeze.

  “Haley here is the director of Affordable Housing for All,” Sawyer explains.

  And then it clicks. That’s where I know her from. The organization she heads does the same sort of work I advocate for. The AHA is committed to developing low-income housing for the poor and working-class families in New York. I have long admired their work and think they’re doing some amazing things. Why I couldn’t place Haley until now makes me feel the world’s biggest idiot.

  “Actually,” Sawyer goes on. “I guess I should say the former director of the AHA.”

  “Former director?” I gasp. “But you’re doing good work –”

  She favors me with a gracious smile, and I bite off my words. “Sawyer made a compelling case and has lured me away from the AHA,” she explains. “I’m going to be the co-director of the new low-income housing arm of Compass Development.”

  I hear her words but can’t quite comprehend them at the moment. They literally go in one ear and out the other without stopping to be processed by my brain. Sawyer and Haley exchange a look and laugh together as I stand there completely dumbfounded.

  “I – I don’t understand,” is all I can manage to croak.

  Sawyer steps forward and takes my hand. The expression on his face is gentle. Kind. And his eyes shine with nothing but the purest love I’ve ever seen, let alone felt before.

  “I realized that if I want things to work between us, I needed to understand you better,” he says. “And to understand you better, I had to understand your passions. So, I came down here one day and spent the afternoon talking to some of the residents of the Jackson.”

  “Y – you did?”

  He nods. “What it made me realize is that I have been absolutely ignorant. I’ve taken so much for granted in my life,” he sighs. “I’ve never had to worry about losing my home or about whether to pay the rent or feed my kids.”

  This is all so surreal that I am positive this has to be a dream. There can be no other explanation for it. This can’t possibly be happening for real. Maybe I had a stroke, and my body is actually laying on the floor back home, and I ended up here, in this dream land. That has to be it, right?

  “But the thing I learned that’s had the biggest impact on me is that there are good people here,” he continues sheepishly. “Good, hard working people who are just trying to get by. I had a lot of preconceived notions of the people who live in places like this, and I realized how wrong I was. How ignorant and bigoted those beliefs were.”

  Sawyer’s voice trails off. I can see the self-recrimination in his face. I can tell he feels guilty about the things he believed. Haley steps closer to me and smiles.

  “That’s when he called me,” she picks up the story. “And together, Sawyer and I have hammered out the structure for an arm of Compass that will focus solely on building affordable housing for lower income people.”

  Sawyer nods. “There’s still a lot that needs to be hashed out, but the basic framework is in place,” he agrees and then points to my satchel. “What’s that?”

  “Oh, ummm – just something I’ve been working on,” I mutter. “Just a side project. Nothing big.”

  Sawyer arches an eyebrow. I can see by the look in his eye that he doesn’t believe me. He knows that it’s not just a side project and is something that means a lot to me. I hate that he can see through me the way he does.

  I clear my throat and give him a smile I hope isn’t as weak as it feels. It’s petty and selfish, and I’m ashamed of myself for even thinking it, but I can’t help but feel like some of my thunder has been stolen by the grand plan these two have hatched.

  “I’ve, um, actually been working on a proposal to do what you and Haley have already done,” I admit, feeling a bit deflated. “I put together a package of potential tax breaks and write-offs, tax credits, government grants, as well as a framework for a low-income housing program at Compass.”

  Sawyer and Haley exchange looks again. She asks to see my satchel. Reluctantly, I open it and hand the binder I put together over to her. I have to stand there and watch as Haley flips through the package I’ve spent the last two weeks slaving away over. I expect her to laugh it off as the work of an amateur. As somebody who has no idea what they’re doing.

  But she surprises me when she nods along with some of what she’s reading, a thoughtful look on her face like she’s seeing things she didn’t think of herself. When she closes the binder and looks up at me again, her smile is wide.

  “I need to go through this more thoroughly, but I’m seeing some pretty amazing stuff in here, Berlin,” she beams. “This is some incredible work. I think we can do some really special things here.”

  The burst of pride I feel in my chest is unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my professional life before. To have somebody like Haley Palmer – the head of an organization I respect and admire as much as I do – applauding my work makes me feel beyond amazing.

  She turns to Sawyer, excitement etched in her features. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to head out,” she tells him. “I want to start poring over this and getting some ducks in a row.”

  “Of course,” Sawyer responds. “Touch base tomorrow. The office closes in three days for the holidays but after they are over we’ll start talking about setting up an office space for your team as soon as possible.”

  “You got it, boss,” she snaps him a salute and then turns to me. “I can’t wait to start working with you, Berlin. I think we’re going to do some incredible things together for a lot of people. I can’t wait to get started, partner.”

  “Partner?” I ask, confused.

  “Who do you think is going to be the other co-director?” Sawyer smiles at me.

  My eyes flit from Sawyer to Haley and back again. They both look like they’re ready to bust.

  “It’s you and me, kid,” she chirps. “
We’re partners in this.”

  “Oh my God,” I gasp, hit by yet another wave of disbelief.

  “See you at the office after the holidays.” She blows me a kiss and flounces off.

  Sawyer pulls me into a tight embrace, and I melt against him. Tears of joy and gratitude are streaming down my face, and when he tips my face up, he wipes them away with his thumbs, giving me a gentle smile.

  “Thank you for this, Sawyer,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

  He shakes his head. “No, thank you,” he replies. “You’ve opened my eyes and made me pull my head out of my ass. You make me a better man in every way, and with your help, I hope to be a good father.”

  “You are an amazing man, Sawyer,” I tell him earnestly. “And you are going to be an even better father. I promise you that.”

  He presses his lips to mine, giving me a soft and gentle kiss. He pulls back, and the expression on his face radiates his love for me. I feel it in every square inch of my body and is so powerful; it makes me want to cry even harder. Damn the pregnancy hormones.

  He slips his arms around my waist and guides me over toward the food trucks. I burst out laughing when I see my favorite truck sitting there – Kung Food. He returns my smile and plants a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

  “Weirdly enough, taking me to my favorite food truck is probably the most romantic thing anybody has ever done for me,” I tell him.

  “That’s me, Mr. Romance,” he grins.

  I squeeze his hand and look into his eyes meaningfully. “You really are.”

  As we walk toward the trucks to get some food, I’m greeted by many of the residents of the Jackson – people I’ve been working with.

  “What’s going to happen to them?” I ask.

  “The first thing we’re going to do is rehab the Jackson,” he explains. “We have temporary apartments for anybody who wants them, and they can move in here once we have the buildings completely refurbished. Of course, after that will be the Atwell. And then we might even look at your old building.”