Rider has been mum about what he walked in on the whole day – which has been a pleasant surprise. At least until now.
“Oh, there’s lots to talk about,” he crows.
“There really isn’t,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I hate to break it to you.”
“Dude, in your office?” He looks down at the couch dramatically. “You two haven’t done it here, on this couch, have you? I’m not sitting in –”
“Dude, shut the hell up,” I laugh.
“You could have at least locked the door,” he prattles on. “I mean, Berlin must have been absolutely mortified.”
“You say one word to her about any of this, and I swear to God I’ll gut you like a fish.”
“Me?”
“You,” I grin. “She told me you seem to enjoy screwing with her.”
He shrugs. “I don’t enjoy screwing with her more than anybody else. I’m all about equality here.”
“Yeah well, you might want to ease up a bit. She’s got a worse temper than I do,” I tell him. “And she’s more prone to violence than me.”
“I can believe that actually,” he notes. “What I didn’t expect was for her to be as big of a sexual deviant as you.”
I punch him in the arm but can’t stop the laughter. “You’re such a prick,” I reply. “But again, you are not –”
“I know, I know. I’m not to breathe a word about this to Berlin,” he waves me off. “Don’t worry; you’re my designated punching bag.”
“Don’t suppose there’s any chance you’re just going to let this go?”
“Not a chance in hell,” he chuckles. “What I want to know is, did your deviancy rub off on her? Or was it a pre-existing condition that just needed to be unleashed?”
I look over at him and arch an eyebrow. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
He leans back, sinking into the couch, and screws up his face as if he’s lost in thought. Finally, he turns back to me, the grin still on his face, but he says nothing.
“What? No witty retort?” I ask.
“Keeping my powder dry,” he informs me. “I’ll be dining out on this for months.”
“Knowing you, probably years.”
He shrugs. “Yeah probably.”
My office door opens, and when I turn, I see Berlin standing in the doorway. She gives me a weak smile, but she lowers her eyes when she sees Rider. For his part, he drops the smile and puts on a professional face. Clearing his throat and gets to his feet and looks back down at me.
“I’ll uhhh – I’ll let you two speak,” he says. “And I’ll draw up the contracts and send them over later this afternoon or maybe tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
He gives Berlin a polite smile and heads out of the office, but not before he gets in one final zinger.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two,” he calls over his shoulder as the door clicks closed.
I sigh and shake my head. “He just can’t help himself.”
“No, he can’t.”
“Come in, sit down.”
Berlin remains where she’s standing with her hands on her hips. “We’re not going for round two here, Sawyer.”
“I swear it’s not like that,” I give her a grin. “At least, not this time.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want to talk to you,” I reply in all seriousness. “I wanted to talk to you this morning but – well – we got a bit distracted.”
She clears her throat, and I see her cheeks flush, but she smiles and takes a seat on the couch across from me. She smooths her dress down, folds her hands in her lap, and settles in. I hold up a finger, getting out of the chair to walk back to my desk. I dig through some things, pick up a file folder, and carry it back to my chair.
“What’s that?” she asks.
I set the folder down on the table between us and sit back. Berlin looks at it hesitantly for a moment before she reaches out and picks it up, setting it in her lap and opening it up. She flips through the brochures and information I’ve compiled for her for a few minutes and then looks up at me questioningly.
“What is this, Sawyer?”
“It’s a way for you to reclaim your life.”
“I don’t understand.”
I sit forward in my seat and peer at her intently. “It’s an intake packet for the Rose Hills Assisted Living facility,” I tell her. “It’s the top of the line facility that specializes in Alzheimer’s patients.”
She looks at me, completely dumbfounded for a long moment as if she’s not fully comprehending what I’m saying.
“I know you don’t want to feel like you’re warehousing your father somewhere,” I begin. “Rose Hills is a fantastic facility with qualified doctors who can care for him around the clock. They can attend to his every need and take care of him in ways that neither you nor your cousin are trained to.”
She sits back. I can’t tell what it is she’s thinking or feeling in that moment. Truthfully, she looks kind of pissed off. I start to think maybe I’ve overstepped. Again. Not that the fear of overstepping has ever deterred me before, but when it comes to Berlin, I realize I’ve been overthinking everything.
“I know you don’t want to feel like you’ve just dumped your father somewhere to run out the clock. But think about it, Berlin,” I urge her. “You – and your cousin, for that matter – can have some part of your lives back and have the peace of mind knowing your father is being cared for by trained professionals twenty-four hours a day. It seems like a win-win to me.”
Her eyes shimmer with tears she’s fighting to hold back. I know what a monumental decision this would be for her, and I can only imagine how difficult
