He gives me a smirk. “It is, actually.”
“Well, you’re not exactly going out on a limb here, Doc,” I chuckle. “Given that I already told you that I’m into her.”
He shakes his head. “Being into her is one thing,” he says. “What I’m saying is that you care about her even more than you’re copping to.”
“What are you talking about?”
He leans forward and clasps his hands, never taking his eyes off me. “If I had to guess, I’d say you’re head over heels for her,” he explains. “That what you feel isn’t just being into her, but something a lot deeper.”
“Come on, man,” I say. “We’ve just barely reconnected. I think it’s a little too soon to be talking about love.”
“Personally, I think you fell in love with her back in college. Or at least, you were starting to,” he says. “This just seems like a natural extension of emotions that are continuing to grow.”
I laugh out loud. “You’re so full of shit.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah, you are.”
My laughter tapers off, and we’re left sitting there in silence. Rider stares at me with a look of smug assurance on his face.
“Tell me something then,” he begins. “Normally, when you get caught up in a negotiation or some such, you handle it, and you’re done with it – and whoever you’re talking to. You lay it down, tell them how it’s going to go down, and that’s it. You’re done.”
“And your point is – what?”
He grins at me like he’s just about to call checkmate. “My point is that ever since you found out Berlin was tied up with the Atwell project, you have been bending over backwards to accommodate her – to avoid ruffling her feathers.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Is it?”
“I have not bent over backwards –”
“In any other case, you would work your contacts, squeeze whoever needed to be squeezed, and do what needed to be done to get a project on track. I’ve seen you do it a thousand times,” he continues. “But with Berlin, you’re delaying, backpedaling and –”
“I am not backpedaling.”
He arches an eyebrow at me, a grin quirking one corner of his mouth upward. “No? Then why did I receive a copy of a financial impact report on the Atwell? Maybe somebody in accounting or whatever was just curious about how delaying the project would impact Compass?” he questions. “Probably just a total coincidence – you know what a curious lot those bean counters are.”
Grinning ruefully to myself, I get to my feet and clasp my hands behind my back as I begin pacing back and forth in front of the window wall again. I’m agitated – mostly because despite my protests, I can’t entirely dismiss what Rider is saying out of hand. I’d like to, but I can’t. To do so would be breaking one of my most cardinal rules – to never lie to myself.
I don’t like lying at all, but I’m realistic enough to know there are sometimes you need to shade the truth now and again – or leave things out – to keep things moving in a forward direction. But one thing I vowed to never do – something my father had ingrained in me from a young age – was to never deceive myself. He told me if I start lying to myself, I might as well shutter the company because that will lead me to make some very bad decisions based on emotion, rather than on logic and intelligence.
So, after listening to Rider and taking an unflinching look at myself in the mirror, I can’t entirely dismiss what he’s saying. At the same time, though, I don’t have to agree with every syllable that falls out of his mouth.
Am I attracted to her? Absolutely. Do I feel something on a deeper level for Berlin? Yes. I acknowledge I’m interested in her for far more than just sex. She’s so different from any woman I’ve ever known or been involved with. I’d go so far as to say there is something special about her. But that’s a far cry from being in love with her, as Rider is suggesting.
“I’m not judging you, man,” Rider says. “I’m not even saying this is a negative thing.”
“No? Then what are you saying?”
He shrugs. “I’m just giving you some food for thought.”
I stop pacing and slide my hands into my pockets as I turn to look at him. A thousand different thoughts are firing through my head, but none of them make any sense to me whatsoever. It’s confounding me simply because my thinking is always so clear, and I’m always sure of myself.
Ever since Berlin found her way back into my life, though, my thoughts have been anything but clear. I’ve never experienced the sort of uncertainty I have around her, nor have I second guessed myself as often as I have recently.
“Food for thought, huh?”
He nods. “Look, how long have I been telling you that you need somebody in your life?”
I chuckle. “How long have I known you?”
“Exactly. And finally, you have somebody you really connect with,” he continues.
“Yeah, except for the fact that she now despises me,” I note wryly.
“That’s a situation you have the power to turn around,” he informs me. “That’s something you have some measure of control over.”
My snort of laughter is sharp. “A very small measure. Berlin is a very headstrong woman,” I correct him. “She’s fiercely independent.”
“But she’s also got a very good heart and caring nature,” he responds. “She’s kind and forgiving.”
“Well, you seem to be quite the expert on Berlin,” I chuckle.
He shrugs. “It’s not like she’s a complete stranger to me,” he grins. “Let’s also not forget that I am a brilliantly keen observer of humanity.”
“Oh right, let’s not forget that.”
“Talk to her. Try to smooth things out,” he urges me. “I think if you don’t at the very least try to fix this, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”
I scoff and wave him off, although there’s a
