The Sister (The Boss 6)

El-Mudad looked down at his plate to hide his fond smile. “I have a difficult time being away from my girls, as well. I’ve just spent two weeks with them. Every minute. And I still miss them terribly.”

Neil cleared his throat softly and changed the subject. “You mentioned that you were starving. I hope you don’t mind the lighter fare.”

“Not at all.” El-Mudad unfurled his napkin and smoothed it across his lap.

“I thought we could go out for dinner tonight. There are some great laid-back options.” I quickly added, “If you aren’t too tired.”

“Do you plan to tire me out, Chloe?” he teased, using the name he called me when the three of us had sex.

I laughed a little, but a thought struck me. “You know… maybe we could stop using that name.” I looked to Neil. “I know it was supposed to create distance or relegate our time together as a role, but I feel like we don’t have that distance, now. Or we shouldn’t. And if we do…”

“It isn’t what you want anymore?” El-Mudad finished for me.

I nodded and reached for my glass of sparkling water, unable to look Neil in the eye. I hadn’t discussed this change with him. With either of them. I worried how they would take it.

Neil reached across the corner of the table and took my hand. He gave it a squeeze. “Too right. As long as El-Mudad doesn’t object.”

I shouldn’t have worried. Of course, I shouldn’t have.

El-Mudad smiled slowly. “This opens the way for a conversation I suspected we would have this week.”

“I’ve suspected the same.” Neil cleared his throat and released my hand. “But shall we save that for the end of the week? Make this a test run, so to speak?”

“A test run for what? All of us together?” My heart did barrel rolls at the thought. “Like, you would be our boyfriend?”

“Yes,” El-Mudad replied with an easy shrug.

But he lived in France. And we lived here. We only saw each other a few times a year. How would it work? How would it be different from what we already had?

The idea of it was intoxicating. The reality was confusing.

“I can see you overthinking this,” Neil said gently. “Nothing will be decided without ample consideration.”

“Between the two of you, especially,” El-Mudad added. “I’ve been in this situation before, and…”

The statement hung between us uncomfortably. We all knew how his marriage had ended. I felt certain that Neil wouldn’t leave me for him, and I knew I wouldn’t leave Neil…but El-Mudad and his wife had probably thought the same thing.

“Sophie,” he said softly, “I love you both too much to rush into this. Let’s enjoy each other this week. We don’t have to make an irreversible decision.”

“Okay.” I smiled gratefully at him. “Now, you have to tell us about your trip.”

Even with the ridiculous advantages life had handed me, I found myself a little envious as El-Mudad described his weeks of chic high-end vacationing in the Riviera. It was the kind of life I loved to fantasize about, and one I could definitely afford, but at the same time, it was one I knew I couldn’t have. Too many things tied me to my life—Olivia, the magazine, my own innate shame at our wealth. I supposed I didn’t envy El-Mudad’s life as much as I envied his ability to enjoy it guilt-free.

“Perhaps we should go, sometime,” Neil mused. “Or Monaco. Sophie’s never been.”

Like almost everyone in the world, I added mentally. Like El-Mudad, Neil had been born into wealth. He couldn’t understand the working-class mindset in which endless toil made a person virtuous and success made them immoral. On an intellectual level, I understood that wasn’t true, but it was tough to shake that mindset. And while I had no trouble spending money or accepting lavish gifts from my husband, I didn’t like examining that comfort too closely. Up and running away to one of the most expensive cities in the world just because I’d never been there seemed wasteful.

On the other hand, Neil and I had sort of expected to have that life together. He was fifty-three, now. He couldn’t exactly wait for me to reach retirement age to travel the world. And if we waited for Olivia to grow up, he would be seventy before we really got to do anything.

My heart fell. Was this what people meant when they said life happened when you were busy making other plans? Was that why it was on so many coffee mugs? Because that sucked.

“We might go together,” El-Mudad suggested. “I have a beautiful house there, and somehow, I never quite make it for visits.”

“Like our wasted apartment in Venice,” I joked. I still had never been.

“I think we should sell it. Make some new memories somewhere else,” Neil said with forced cheerfulness. He’d bought the apartment for his ex-wife and, apparently, fought for it out of sheer spite. I couldn’t blame him for not weekending there.