“Okay look, this isn’t my business,” he starts.
“You’ve made that abundantly clear already,” I grin.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “She dropped her purse, and I found a bottle of – pills.”
“Pills?”
“Yeah, but not for her. The name on the bottle was for a Robert Roth –”
“Her father,” I nod. “What was the name of the medication?”
“It was Donepezil.”
I frown. “And that is –”
“It’s for Alzheimer’s,” he tells me. “Her father has Alzheimer’s.”
I sit back and whistle low, the news hitting me like a sledgehammer to the gut. That would certainly explain her rushing off like she did in the middle of the night – she probably had to get home to her father and relieve whoever she has watching her dad when she’s not there.
“I can’t imagine those meds are cheap,” I mention.
“Probably not.”
I rub my jaw, absorbing the information and trying to figure out not only what it all means, but what to do about it. The cost of caring for a parent with Alzheimer’s must be daunting. Not to mention the emotional toll it must take on her. As I think about it, I can’t imagine the burden that must be on Berlin’s shoulders on a daily basis, and how hard it must be weighing her down.
And yet despite all of that she’s carrying on her back, she remains upbeat. Focused. Determined. She carries on every day, doing her job and taking on even more work on behalf of those less fortunate than her. What she does is admirable. Who she is as a person is even more so.
I guess that makes my own problems seem woefully trite compared to hers. I’m lucky. I could easily afford that medicine, no sweat, and could have an army of highly trained nurses on call at all hours if I had a family member with that disease. Yet again, Berlin Roth is making me reflect on how fortunate I am compared to most people.
“So now that you know, what are you going to do about it?” Rider asks.
“I’m not sure yet but for now, I’ll file it away,” I respond. “I appreciate you telling me, brother, and don’t worry; I’ll keep your name out of it.”
He nods. “I’d appreciate that.”
Our conversation shifts to work and several projects we have in the works, but my mind continues to drift back to Berlin and her situation. She never complains about her lot in life. No, she bears her burdens stoically. Her strength and courage in dealing with all she does is incredible. I don’t think I can respect her any more than I already do right now.
Chapter Fifteen Berlin
“I can’t believe it,” Gabby squeals. “Oh my God, honey. This is amazing.”
She’s practically bouncing in her chair, and I’m suddenly regretting asking her to meet me for a quick cup of coffee after work. I put my elbows on the table and bury my face in my hands, shaking my head. In the couple of days since I slept with Sawyer, I’ve been hit by wave after wave of – not exactly regret – but something close to it.
I feel Gabby grab hold of my wrists, and she pries my hands away from my face. Her smile is wide, and her eyes are shining with excitement – though I don’t know what there is to be excited about.
“What are you tripping about?” she asks. “This is a good thing, baby.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “A good thing?”
“It’s a very good thing,” she presses. “You finally let yourself loosen up enough to let him in – well, into your panties.”
I groan as she cackles, her voice seeming to echo around the coffee house. I glance around, fearful that people are eavesdropping on us, but everybody around us seem absorbed in their own conversations or whatever electronic device they have their faces buried in. Thankfully, nobody seems to be paying any attention to us.
“I just – I let myself get caught up in the moment,” I mutter. “Between him giving me the delay on the Atwell, the glamor of the lounge we were at, and all the booze I had, I let myself get carried away.”
“Was it good?” she presses. “I mean, I have this image of him being an absolute stallion in bed –”
“Gabby,” I almost shriek, which makes her laugh.
I’m mortified but can’t stop my own laughter from slipping out. Damn her.
“I’m serious. This is important information,” she giggles. “Did he curl your toes or make you scream like a banshee?”
“Oh my God, shut up.” I can’t stop my cheeks from flushing or the laughter pouring out of me.
She clasps her hands in front of her as if she’s praying. “Tell me, Berlin,” she pleads. “I have to know if my fantasies match the reality.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm myself. I would like to move on from this particular topic, but I know Gabby isn’t about to let it go until she gets the information she wants. It’s one of the traits that makes her such a good lawyer – her dogged determination. It’s great in court, but terrible when I want to keep something private.
“It was – fine,” I say, knowing I have to give her something.
She cocks her head and stares at me blankly. “Fine?” she repeats, exasperation in her voice. “Seriously? That’s all you have to say?”
I shrug. “What? It’s not like I have any basis of comparison.”
“You can do better than that,” she presses.
I can’t quite stifle my giggle, but I can tell by the set of her jaw and the way she’s leaning forward on the table that Gabby is not going to be deterred. I have to give her something more.
“Fine,”
