“Okay,” he frowns.
Sawyer comes around his desk and leans against it, folding his arms over his chest. He doesn’t really look all that surprised to see me. I get the feeling he knows why I’m here.
“I told you I didn’t want you to speak with my super,” I start.
“Technically speaking, I didn’t talk to him. Much.”
I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes, my anger rising like a wave. “Don’t get cute, Sawyer.”
“Can’t help it; it’s just my natural state of being,” he grins.
“Sawyer, I swear to God –”
He chuckles. “Relax, Berlin, I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”
“I’m not screwing around,” I snap. “I told you I didn’t want you to help –”
“And I know you’re too stubborn and prideful to ask for help even when you need it,” he fires back.
“I didn’t need it.”
“Yeah, you did,” he scoffs. “You were on the verge of losing your place. And what then? What were you going to do if you and your dad got tossed out onto the street?”
I open my mouth to argue but realizing that he’s right, close it again, knowing I have no argument to make. I’ve been so busy trying to hold it all together that I haven’t stopped to think about the day I couldn’t do it anymore. I really don’t know what I would have done if Lou had served us with an eviction notice. I have no savings to speak of, nowhere to go, and no plan. Setting aside my pride for just a moment, I can see the truth of the matter is that Sawyer saved my ass.
And I think that’s what pisses me off more than anything. I’m not a woman who wants to rely on anybody. For anything. I value my independence, above all else. Which, I see now, has left me with a few massive blind spots. Not that he had any right to go behind my back and do what he did.
“That’s hardly the point,” I hiss. “I asked you not to do something, and you did it anyway. And I don’t like feeling indebted to people.”
“Technically, you never told me to not –”
“Oh shut up already,” I snap. “Stop splitting hairs with me.”
“Look, we can sit here and argue about whether or not I was an asshole for trying to help you out,” he goes on. “Or, you can simply say thank you, and we can move forward.”
I know I sound like an ungrateful bitch. I hate that I do. At the same time, though, I’m embarrassed as hell knowing if not for Sawyer, we’d be royally screwed. I mean, I might have been able to juggle some things here and there and do the tap dance I usually do. But doing so would have forced me to dance and juggle even faster. And every month we fall further behind, the tempo of the music speeds up, and I have to dance to the tune even faster. I could have gone through the usual rigamarole, but it would have only been postponing the inevitable. Again.
“Thank you,” I say more grudgingly than I intend to.
“And you’re very welcome.”
I glare at him, gritting my teeth, my hands balled into fists at my side. I’m doing my best to keep my temper in check, but it’s not easy. I’m mostly pissed at myself for getting into this position in the first place. Sawyer stands there staring at me with an amused smirk on his face that makes me want to scream. Nothing like rubbing it in.
“Look at you,” he chuckles. “And you say I have a temper.”
“Shut up,” I growl.
He laughs again, that deep booming voice washing over me like a warm, comforting wave. I look away but can’t keep the grin from stretching across my face. I shake my head and look up at him.
“You really are an ass,” I laugh softly.
“True. I am,” he replies. “But I think you kinda like it.”
“Now you’re pushing your luck,” I fire back.
I don’t know how he did it, but I came in here with a head of steam, ready to rip him a new one, and he somehow managed to talk me down. My anger was justified, but somehow, he defused it. Damn him.
“I’m grateful, Sawyer,” I tell him and mean it. “And I swear I’ll pay you –”
He waves me off. “That’s not necessary. In fact, don’t even think about it.”
“Sawyer, no, I –”
“I’m serious,” he grumbles. “Do not worry about it.”
I purse my lips and blow out a breath, frustrated, embarrassed, and a hundred other things right now. But most of all, I’m grateful that Sawyer cares so much that he’d risk pissing me off to help solve my problems.
“So – what now?” I ask.
He glances at his watch and shrugs. “How about lunch?”
Chapter Twenty Sawyer
“I’ll have the contracts sent over in the morning,” I say into the phone, taking a sip of my coffee. “Have your people review them and get back to me.”
I pace in front of the windows, looking out over the city as I talk to one of my contractors. We’re breaking ground on a new project soon, and I’m trying to get my ducks in a row.
My office door opens, and I see Rider step in with a newspaper under his arm. He’s got a devious grin on his face, and he tips me a wink as he closes the door behind him. I watch him walk over and drop down onto the sofa. I look at him curiously – he doesn’t usually read papers; he gets his news online. He’s grinning at me like a fool, which makes me even more curious.
The voice coming through my earpiece pulls me back to the present. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I’m here,” I speak into my Bluetooth device. “Sorry about that.”
I spend the next ten minutes going over some details with my contractor, trying to get everything straight before I finish up. I don’t want any mistakes on this. When we finish ironing everything out,
