“Even if it’s not Sawyer, I want to see you go out with somebody, hon,” she continues. “I don’t even remember the last time you went out on a date. You really need to take some time for yourself. You need to cut loose and have some fun.”
“I really do. More than you know,” I chuckle sadly. “It’s just that there isn’t any time for me. Between taking care of my dad, work, and the advocacy stuff I do, it takes up all of my time and – ”
“I get that, Berlin. But when are you going to make time for yourself? You have to make time for yourself somehow,” she presses. “I don’t want to see you end up alone. Sometimes you have to be a little selfish – and that’s not a bad thing.”
I feel the frown pulling the corners of my mouth downward. “I just don’t have that luxury, Gabs. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
“Do you though? Wish you did?”
“Of course. I don’t want to spend my life alone,” I reply. “Why would you even ask that?”
“Sometimes it just seems like you kind of – hide – from anything even approaching an emotional attachment,” she shrugs. “It’s seemed like that since the day I met you.”
“Hiding?”
“Well, yeah,” she tells me. “You just seem to avoid any kind of connection with anybody. It’s like you’re afraid of it.”
“I don’t think I’m afraid of it…”
My voice trails off as I realize I don’t have an answer to that – not anything that makes any sort of sense anyway. I guess I’ve never really stopped to think about it – not that I have the time to think about romance or relationships anyway. Between work and taking care of my dad, I just don’t have time for it. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
But sitting here with Gabs and hearing what she’s saying, it feels like something inside of me clicks, and a door opens. And for the first time, I start to wonder if that’s all just a story I’m telling myself. Yes, my obligations are real, but have I been shielding myself from the possibility of developing something emotionally with somebody?
Gabby laughs softly. “See what I mean? You’re so afraid of it; you can’t even come up with a good excuse.”
A small smile touches my lips. “Shut up.”
“People can change, Berlin,” she says softly. “Give Sawyer a chance to show you whether he has or not.”
“Going to be kind of difficult since I gave him a bad number,” I observe.
“He’s one of the most famous men in the city,” she shoots back with a giggle. “If you can’t figure out how to track him down, you’re a lost cause, hon.”
* * *
After leaving Gabby at the café, I trudge back to my office to find half a dozen new case files sitting on my desk. As if I don’t have enough on my plate as it is. But it’s the job, so I drop down into my chair and pick up the first file.
It takes a minute, but I familiarize myself with the first two – a drunk and disorderly and a petty theft case – pretty routine stuff I can usually plead down with the prosecutor’s office, but it’s time consuming because they’re usually looking to extract every ounce of blood they can. Even more so if I have some newbie assistant DA who thinks they’re the second coming of F. Lee Bailey and wants to make a name for themselves by grandstanding and trying to make a federal case out of something so petty. Newbies can be the worst.
As I’m reading over the third case file on my desk, my mind starts to wander, and everything Gabby and I talked about floats through my head. Which, of course, brings it straight back to Sawyer. Had I judged him too harshly? Could he have possibly changed? Was my judgment of Sawyer a means of – as Gabby said – hiding away from emotional connection or attachment?
I have to admit, Sawyer’s presence in the borough board room was different. Oh, he was as beautiful as I remember him being. He’s a gorgeous man; there is no question about that. But his bearing and demeanor were different. He seemed more mature than I remember him being, and he carried a sense of gravitas that was new to me – and honestly, he wore it well.
I lean back in my seat and take a sip from the cup of coffee on my desk, then frown – cold and bitter. I let my mind wander aimlessly. Not so surprisingly, it immediately finds its way back to Sawyer. I know his family is filthy rich but famous? I guess in the sense that rich people are often thought of as famous, it makes sense.
In Sawyer’s case though, given the fact she also said he’s a staple in the tabloids, infamous might be a better word for it. I remember him getting his face in the gossip rags a few times back in school, but it wasn’t anything that interested me, so I tuned it out. The goings-on in the lives of celebrities – or pseudo-celebrities – aren’t anything I care about.
I try to weigh that image I have of Sawyer – that different presence and demeanor I thought I noticed – against the idea that he’s still a fixture in the tabloids. I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character. Sure, he’s still Sawyer, but this new, older Sawyer didn’t seem to me like the kind of guy who lives his life in the eye of the paparazzi. He didn’t seem to have that air of wildness he did as the stupid trust fund kid he was back in school. He seemed to have more substance to him.
But then, I’ve been wrong before. All
