The Sister (The Boss 6)

Neil’s expression of pride made me feel sixty feet tall.

I went on, “But I’ve come to a conclusion. With Deja’s very loud, shouty help.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’m not the person I used to be, before you and I got together.” I hoped I didn’t hurt his feelings saying so, but there was no other way to describe the changes I’d been ignoring. “You know how weird I’ve been about the money thing and reconciling what I came from with what I’ve got, now. And it was because I was trying to be Sophie the independent, struggling Millennial trying to get ahead, when I don’t really need to get ahead. I wasn’t running a magazine because I really wanted to. I was doing it because I felt like if I didn’t have a job or I wasn’t doing something to earn money, then I was a gold-digging jerk. But as it turns out, the thing that was making me a jerk was me not being grateful for what I have and acting like I’m in the same position as everyone around me.”

Neil nodded. “Rejecting the advantages that our money gives you was your way of apologizing for being rich.”

“Exactly.” I guess I shouldn’t have doubted that he would get it. “And it just made me look like an asshole.”

I went to his chair and plopped myself across his lap without asking, looping one arm around his neck. “You’re retired. Olivia isn’t in school, yet. We can do basically anything we want to, right now. We can run off to Venice, and I can finally see that apartment you want to sell. We can…climb a mountain or something.”

“Do you own even one pair of closed-toed shoes?” he observed dryly.

I ignored him. “It was just an idea. And, yes, of course, I own closed-toed shoes. You’ve seen them.”

“I did notice that you seemed to resent the time you missed with El-Mudad while he was here.” Neil brushed my hair behind my ear. “And you were terribly wistful about the idea of running off to the south of France with him.”

“Well, yeah,” I walked my fingers across Neil’s chest. “I love him. I want us all to be together. And as long as I’m half-heartedly chained to the magazine, that can’t happen. And it’s definitely not fair to Holli and Deja, especially now that they have a baby on the way.”

“Oh?” Neil sat up straighter, holding me by the waist so I wouldn’t topple from his lap. “When did this happen?”

“Deja accidentally spilled the beans to me. Holli doesn’t know that. I’m waiting for her to get here. She’s going to be disappointed that she didn’t get to tell me, herself.” I winced. “I guess I should have let her tell you.”

“She can tell your mother,” Neil said. “I assume you’ll be going down there to drink and smoke marijuana cigarettes.”

“Yes, Reefer Madness, that is exactly what we do,” I admitted. “I hope you’re not mad at me.”

“I have far better things to be angry about than whether an adult who does not struggle with addiction has a few beers and a joint while hot tubbing with her friends.” He laughed. “If you ever seem to have a problem or try to enable mine, I’ll say something. I’m not going to relapse because you have a two-dollar wine cooler at your mother’s house.”

“Hey, be nice.” I pushed against his chest then nuzzled my cheek against it. “Can I ask you a question?”

“No,” he whispered against my temple.

I giggled. “I’m going to, anyway. Do you think I’m a flakey kind of person?”

He took too long to answer, then said, “I don’t think flakey is a permanent state. I think you needed to find yourself, and you put off looking for longer than you should have.”

“Okay, so now I’m looking. What do I find?” That was the part I wasn’t so sure about in all of this. If I wasn’t fashion journalist Sophie, and writer Sophie felt like a fraud, who the hell was I? “We joke about it a lot, but what if I’m just a trophy wife?”

“If you were just a trophy wife, I would only love you for your tight ass and perfect breasts.” Neil bounced his knee a little, and the latter of my two good qualities jiggled a little above the neckline of my dress. He smiled at me in nothing short of adoration. “But I love everything about you. If you decided to buy a boat and sail around the world tomorrow, I would still love you as much as if you decided to stay in your pajamas all day.”

“Good, because I might actually do that tomorrow.” Self-care was going to be crucial during this weird transition period.

“As long as you don’t make it a habit. Not that your mother would let you.” Neil put on his best imitation of my mother’s Michigan accent, which was actually pretty good. “‘Are you still wearing those sweatpants? You have billions of dollars. You can’t afford real pants?’”