When the room is quiet again – or at least, something close to it – Carver and the rest of the board glower down at me. They’re used to doing most of their work behind the scenes. Borough board meetings are usually little more than a formality – and usually only conducted in front of a handful of people. They aren’t used to being called out in a room packed with people demanding answers, and they don’t like it.
Good.
“We will take your request into consideration, Miss Roth,” Carver finally says. “But I will tell you right now, given your theatrics here tonight; we are disinclined to be – helpful.”
“So what you’re saying is because I question your ethics and motivations – and because you don’t like me – you’re going to punish the decent folks living in the Atwell to be punitive?” I snap.
“I’ve had enough of this bullshit. Get this riff-raff out of here,” Jones mutters, though his mic is hot and picks up his words – which ignites yet another round of the people’s anger.
It takes Carver shouting into her mic and banging her gavel for all she’s worth for several long minutes before the crowd settles down again. When it’s finally calm in the chamber, Carver glares daggers at me.
“Due to the unruly nature of this crowd, the chamber will be cleared, and the rest of borough business will be conducted behind closed doors,” she dismisses us.
“Before we go,” I speak loudly and clearly into my mic. “Given the intransigence of this borough board, you have left me no choice but to file an injunction with the courts, which will prevent any development activity at the Atwell until the case is heard by a magistrate.”
“Miss Roth, there is –”
I wave Carver off and give her a feral grin. “And we know how long it can sometimes take to calendar a hearing, don’t we?”
Rage etched upon her face, Carver and the rest of the board stand and disappear through the door behind their podium. I’m suddenly surrounded by people wanting to know what all of that meant. I spend quite a bit of time trying to reassure them, explain it all, and to really reinforce the point that this fight is very far from over.
Because we’re just getting started.
As I hold court with the Atwell’s residents, I catch sight of the two men in suits standing off to the side, conferring with each other. The dark haired man looks over and catches my eye. I’m once again awash in the certainty that I know him – I just can’t figure out from where. He gives me a smile that irrationally makes my heart flutter, and once the crowd around me begins to thin, he makes his way over to me.
I say goodbye to the last of the residents, and he steps into the sudden emptiness around me.
“Berlin Roth, it’s been quite a while,” he begins as the deep bass of his voice rumbles through my body enticingly. “Still intent on saving the world, I see.”
“Trying to do my part,” I shrug. So he definitely does know me. I just don’t know him.
“I guess we should get you a cape and some tights then,” he laughs.
The man extends his hand, and I shake it automatically. As we shake, though, I search his face – and my memory banks – trying to figure out where I know this man from. He wasn’t a client, that much I know. I think I’d remember somebody like him if I had to defend him in court. So who is he?
He chuckles, that deep rumble in his voice sending goosebumps marching across my skin. This man – whoever he is – is absolutely beautiful and just oozes sex appeal from his every pore. To be honest, I don’t have a lot of experience with men – I’ve never had sex before – but what I can say with certainty is that no man has ever made me feel the physical sensations this guy is making me feel right now.
“Sawyer West,” he finally says. “And it apparently has been quite a while.”
I laugh apologetically and shake my head, still not making the connection in my mind. But as I look up into his rich, dark eyes that are lit from within, it hits me like a lightning bolt out of nowhere. “Of course,” I say, shaking my head and doing my best not to feel embarrassed. “We met at NYU. I’m sorry, you just –”
“Didn’t make a lasting impression on you, apparently,” he grins. “I have to admit, that’s a first for me.”
And just like that, I recall everything about Sawyer West – including why I’d purged him from my brain. We didn’t run in the same circles, but there was some overlap in our respective groups of friends. He was always the party boy. He came from a wealthy family. Like, a really wealthy family. One of the wealthiest families in all of New York, in fact. Embarrassingly rich would probably be the best way to describe his family.
Knowing his father would one day turn over the keys to whatever their kingdom was, Sawyer thought he walked on water. He was smug, arrogant, and a chauvinistic pig who screwed a different girl like every night – just because he could. And when he was done with them, he threw them away like garbage. Sawyer didn’t think the rules applied to him, and he walked around, flaunting his wealth like he was king of the world.
Yeah, he and I didn’t really get on that well. And yet despite the disconnect between us – not to mention my more than obvious dislike of the man – he continued chasing me. He tried to get into my pants more than once. He
