The Bride (The Boss 3)

“Um, technically?” I couldn’t puzzle out what she getting at. She couldn’t actually be worried that I was going to become Emma’s favorite mom or something, right?

“Well, maybe you could do Emma a motherly favor. See if you can’t get Neil to stop being so…vocally opposed to Michael.”

Oh. She was being nice to me because she wanted something. Well, now it all made sense. “I don’t know that there is a force on Earth capable of changing his opinion on Michael.”

“No, you’re spot on there,” she agreed. “But perhaps you could convince him not to voice that opinion so often and so forcefully? With all the stress leading up to the wedding—”

“What’s this about the wedding?” Neil entered the room, holding his laptop and looking from Valerie to me, and back again. Concern caused a vertical crease between his eyebrows; he got that often when Valerie and I were in the same room together. I think he worried that he would have to rush to my defense or something.

I smiled to show him everything was cool. “Emma’s just got some nerves, and Valerie was suggesting I take her out for lunch. You know, so she can blow off steam about things to a non-parental type figure.”

“Oh.” He smiled, relieved and surprised all at once. He held up his laptop to show Valerie. Neil’s schedule, a fearsome spreadsheet of numerous multi-colored boxes, was displayed on the screen. “Do you see that window of about fifteen minutes on the seventeenth?”

Valerie waved her hand. “You know what? It’s not important. Let’s just leave it where it is. I’m over-thinking things, as always.”

We said goodnight and she stepped into the vestibule to wait for the elevator. I turned and headed for the bedroom, grateful to have an empty house finally.

“That was rather obvious,” Neil said as he followed behind me. “What did she really say to you?”

His wary tone was, I knew, due to some need to defend and protect me from Valerie. During his illness, we’d had a major blow up about her involvement in his life, and her constant critique of our relationship.

I was relieved that, for once, his concern was misplaced. “She wanted me to intervene on Emma’s behalf. You’re being a dick about Michael.”

“A dick?” His eyebrows rose. “That’s a bit strong.”

“Is it, though?” I put my hands on my hips. We stood close enough that I had to tilt my head to look up at him. “How long have they been together now? Three years?”

“Good lord, don’t remind me,” he grumbled. He took a step as though he would move past me, and I stopped him with a gentle hand against his chest.

“This isn’t a joke, baby. Your daughter is so happy with Michael. And he treats her good. You should love him for loving her.” I sighed through my nose. “Or, you know, if you can’t bring yourself to love him, at least pretend to not hate him. Because Michael isn’t the one you’re hurting with this bullshit.”

Neil reached up and covered my hand with his own, pressing my palm over his heart. “I know. And I do realize that there are scores of other men out there I’d hate much more. It’s just…” He trailed off in frustration.

“It’s hard for you to let go, because you want to protect her. I get it. It’s because you’re a good father.” Every now and then, I had an odd pang of envy over Neil’s good relationship with Emma. It wasn’t that I wanted Neil to be my father, but I did feel a “what if?” sort of longing toward the man who should have filled that role. What if Joey Tangen had stepped up to the plate? What if I had tried to make some kind of contact with him? But deep down I knew that if a man were willing to miss out on the first twenty-five years of his child’s life, he didn’t really have anything to offer in the second twenty-five.

Still, being present in Emma’s life didn’t make up for Neil’s tired overprotective father commentary.

“If I start being nice to him, Emma will think I’ve had a stroke,” Neil argued half-heartedly.

“You don’t have to be nice to him. You can keep on barely tolerating him. But stop saying mean things about him in front of Emma.”

He frowned. “All right. Though it will be difficult to stop calling him Horrible Michael.”

“You can still call him that in front of me, if you want,” I consoled him.

Neil wrapped his arms around me and gave me a squeeze. “Thank you. For loving my daughter as much as I do, and telling me when I’m being an utter prat.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” I didn’t need to tell him that no one on Earth would ever love Emma as much as he did; he already knew.

“I was thinking,” he said, dipping his head to rub noses with me. “You’ve had a rough day. Why don’t you invite Holli ‘round for one of your ‘veg outs.’”

“Really?” I’d never invited Holli over before. When we hung out, it was always at her place. She’d stayed with me in London, when Neil had been going through the high dose chemo. But at that point, I’d been living there for months, and it had felt like my home. The apartment in New York still felt like Neil’s place, and I guess it had never occurred to me to have people over.

Neil frowned. “Certainly. I have work to do tonight, and I’ll feel much better knowing that you aren’t brooding in rejection all alone. And there’s some very expensive grass in my nightstand. I’m sure the two of you could think of some way to entertain yourselves.”

“You know us so well.” I leaned my face up for a kiss. “I’ll give her a call.”

I went into the bedroom, grabbed my phone, and dialed up Holli’s number.