“That was quite the performance,” he grins. “Not sure you made a lot of friends on the board though.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to advocate for my clients.”
He nods. “I can see that. And it was quite the impassioned advocacy,” he notes. “I’m not sure it’s going to go your way, though.”
“Which is why I am going to court to file an injunction –”
“Which you’re going to lose.”
“Eventually. But I knew this was an uphill fight to begin with,” I concede. “I’m hoping to muck up the works long enough to give the residents the delay I asked for.”
“And that was twelve to eighteen months,” he states.
“Exactly.”
“Well, do you think that’s fair to Compass Development?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “I mean, they did pay for the building already. Holding up the development of that property –”
“Is going to ruin the lives of the people at the Atwell. Some of them have been there for decades,” I hiss. “Is it fair that they’re getting tossed out on the street because some asshole with a fat wallet pried it away from the previous owner?”
He shrugs, an infuriating smirk on his face. God, how I remember that arrogance. “It’s progress. It’s the way of the world, Berlin.”
“Yeah well, I don’t agree that people – good people – getting ground up in the gears of your progress should be the way of the world.”
The dark haired man looks over and catches my eye. Which shouldn’t surprise me all, that much since the man was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. My experience has taught me that people who are born into money have little understanding or concern for the plight of people lower on the socioeconomic ladder than them. Sawyer is a perfect case in point.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I ask the question that should have been obvious to me.
He shrugs. “I do a lot of business in this borough,” he tells me. “It’s good for me to know the mood of the board. I like to know their inclinations and all the players.”
I give him a sidelong glance. “What kind of business are you in again?”
He shrugs. “This and that – I believe in having multiple revenue streams,” he replies smoothly. “So, were you serious about going to court with this?”
“Of course I was,” I respond. “The lives of these people are hanging in the balance.”
“That seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
I feel a bright bolt of anger flash through me. I glare at Sawyer. His casual dismissal simply goes to what I thought earlier – about his inability to relate and his ignorance about the plight of people who aren’t as fortunate as he is. I take a moment and let out a silent breath. Sawyer is annoying, but he’s not the enemy here.
“If anything, I feel like I’m underselling it,” my tone is cold. “Most of these people don’t have the luxury of just up and moving. And with the gentrification going on everywhere, rent is rising. Where are these people supposed to go? They’ll be out on the street.”
That seemed to get through to him somehow. He raises his eyebrows, then looks away for a moment.
“Let me ask you this – do you really think a twelve to eighteen-month reprieve will change anything?” he asks. The tone of his voice is soft, like he’s genuinely asking. “I mean, you’re likely going to lose your fight for an injunction – even you recognize that. So what does that time and energy you’re burning in this fight buy you?”
I shrug. “It will give the residents adequate time to prepare. Give them the time to find another place to call home,” I reply. “That can make all the difference.”
The expression on his face is supposed to look sympathetic, I guess, but it falls short and just looks false. Insincere. Or maybe I’m just bitter and angry right now and am misinterpreting his expressions and words. To me, Sawyer West represents everything I stand against – the relentless march of corporate wealth and the flippant dismissal of the common person. The message they send out is, if you don’t make a certain amount of money, you and your life are meaningless.
To be honest, his questions weren’t bad questions. They show a lack of understanding, yes, but the way he asked them shows that he is actually trying to understand the complexities of this situation. He hasn’t automatically taken offense to what I’ve said to him and seems like he’s considering things in a way he’s not used to.
Which of course, makes me wonder what line of work he’s in and how he’s planning to use my words to exploit the people of this borough.
“I do a lot of business in this city. And I know a lot of people,” he says. “What if I were to speak with the people at Compass to see how amenable they’d be to an eighteen-month reprieve to avoid the time and cost of a court fight?”
I look at him and arch an eyebrow, waiting for the price tag of this magnanimous gesture – because I know there is one. Nobody ever just does something out of the goodness of their hearts in this town. He looks at me though and says nothing as he waits for my answer. Being the cynic I am, I know there are strings attached, so I guess my job now is to flush them out.
“That’s a very generous offer,” I tell him. “And what is the catch?”
He shrugs. “No catch.”
“So you’d just do this out of the goodness of your heart?”
A roguish grin tugs the corners of his mouth upward and makes his eyes sparkle in that way that makes my heart and stomach lurch
