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The Bride (The Boss 3)

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“I’m fine.” He breathed a sigh of finality. “I’m just letting go.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

We stayed in New York an extra night after the wedding. We were both still so exhausted that the drive to Sagaponack, when we had a perfectly good home in the city, seemed like something we could leave for another day. We spent a wonderfully relaxed Sunday with his relatives at the apartment, and Monday morning we drove with them to the airport to see them off.

“Sure you won’t come with us?” Runólf asked by way of greeting as he hugged Neil at the bottom of the jet stairs

“We’ll come and visit soon, I promise.” Neil manfully clapped his brother on the back.

“I was asking Sophie,” Runólf said with a wink, and Kristine gave his shoulder a slap.

“Stop teasing,” she admonished, juggling Annie from one hip to the other. The baby had grown like crazy since we’d seen her at Christmas, and was as blonde as her mother. “Of course, you’re both welcome any time.”

“And we’ll be back for the wedding, if we’re invited,” Fiona said, giving her brother a look that mirrored an expression I’d seen from Neil a time or two.

“Of course you’ll all be invited. Sophie and I were simply trying to keep the engagement a surprise for after the wedding.”

“Stop haranguing him, porcupine,” Rose ordered her daughter. Neil’s mother had arrived at the airport swaddled in furs, despite the balmy May morning. She held up a hand to motion Neil down for a hug, and he bent over her wheelchair to oblige her. Kissing him on the cheek, she said, “I love you, little bird.”

“I love you, Mummy. We’ll come to London soon.”

“I’d like that.” She looked up at me. “Take care of my little bird, Sophie. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I will, Mrs. Elwood. Or I won’t.” I stopped to straighten out my thoughts. “I mean, I’ll take care of him. You have nothing to worry about.”

Her eyes narrowe

d. “You’re a good girl. I can tell.”

Neil’s approval showed in the subtle tilt of his lips, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and the quick wink he gave me.

On the way back to the apartment, my phone rang.

“Maybe it’s Emma!” I was dying to know where Michael had taken her for the honeymoon.

When I saw the number, I thought I might be sick. I slid my finger across the screen to answer. “Hello?”

“Sophie, it’s Deja.”

Neil had leaned his head back on his seat and closed his eyes, but something in my stunned silence must have alerted him to the fact that serious shit was going down. He sat up, brows drawn together in his frown of concern. I couldn’t reassure him, because I had no idea what was going on, myself.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, um. Hi.”

“How are you?” She didn’t say it the way people usually said it, off-hand, without really caring about the answer.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t come up with a meaningful one. What was I supposed to tell her? That I was utterly broken without Holli’s friendship? That I constantly second-guessed my decision to tell Neil what I’d seen in that restaurant? That I resented her, personally, for betraying the trust I’d placed in her?

I decided on, “I’ve been better.”

“I know. Me, too. Holli, too.” There was a sadness to her tone that I wanted to revel in; a childish part of me felt that it was only fair that she be as miserable as I was. But that all changed when she added, “This whole you and her not being friends thing? It isn’t working.”

“It isn’t working for me, either,” I admitted. “But she said some…really unfair things.”

“This is Holli we’re talking about. That’s her part-time job.” She snorted, then sobered half a second later. “I’m sorry. We’re probably not at a place where we can joke.”

“Not at all.” I wanted both of them back in my life, but I wasn’t willing to gloss past our troubles with humor.

“Look, I’m better face-to-face,” she began, resigned, as though she already considered the call a loss. “I know you guys were planning on moving. I don’t know if that already happened, or if you’re commuting to the city—”



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