The Sister (The Boss 6)

“No!” I would have offered to buy them a place, or help with a down payment.

Maybe that was exactly why they hadn’t mentioned it.

“We want to stay on Long Island,” he went on. “So, it’s not so far from you guys that getting out for Sunday dinner would be a pain in the ass. But it’s really going to be down to where Becky can get a job.”

Mom had been living rent-and-carefree in our guesthouse for a while. The thought of her returning to work boggled my mind, especially considering all the times in my childhood where she’d fantasized about winning the lottery and never working another day in her life.

“I didn’t know she wanted to go back to work,” I mused aloud.

Tony shrugged his big shoulders. “I can’t say that I would, if my daughter were willing to put me up in a mansion for free. But everybody wants to make their own way, right?”

“I guess so?” Even before I’d been with Neil, the thought of turning down free money and no bills would have sounded stupid to me. Then again, when I did get together with Neil, I hadn’t wanted to be seen as a gold-digger, so I’d done everything I could to keep working on my own. And even when it was stuff that didn’t pan out, like beauty vlogging, I’d needed it to keep from being bored and directionless.

Maybe that’s what Mom was going through. Feeling useless and kept really wore a person down.

“I had no idea any of this was going on,” I admitted. “If she was unhappy, why didn’t she tell me?”

“She’s not unhappy.” Tony sounded confused as to how I’d arrived at that conclusion. “She just wants to do something different.”

I nodded, but I still didn’t really understand. “So, you’re going to get a job, Mom’s going to get a job, you’re going to move out, and…”

“And maybe some other guy will get the apartment over the porte cochere,” he suggested, giving me a pointed look.

He’d said “some other guy”, not “some other driver”.

I didn’t really want to discuss El-Mudad with him or anyone who wasn’t me or Neil or El-Mudad. “Maybe. But it’s going to be hard to find another driver who meets the high standards you’ve set.”

“Did I set a high standard?” he asked with a laugh. “I thought the chauffeur marrying a member of the family was a scandal.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re no Tom Branson, Tony.”

He pulled the car over and checked the address on the GPS, again. “And we have arrived. You want me to get your door?”

“No, I got it.” I paused with my hand on the handle. “Thanks for being cool and not mentioning our…lifestyle to Mom.”

“Thanks for being cool and not caring that I’ve broken a Downton Abbey rule,” he replied, and made a shooing motion with his hand. “Have a good time. Call me when you need to be picked up.”

Yeah, coming from my stepdad-to-be, that did sound a little weird.

Chapter Thirteen

Holli jumped up from the table the moment she saw me.

I waved to the hostess to indicate I knew where I was going and crossed the floor. Public Kitchen’s patio was a light and airy space with cement walls, lush greenery, and the furniture of a Victorian tea room. The foliage and tin candle lanterns created a feeling of seclusion in the throw pillow accented wooden booths. Holli and I met there when we really wanted privacy to share juicy details.

“I can’t believe I didn’t talk to you for a week! I almost died!” she squealed, throwing her arms around my neck. For someone as slender as Holli was, her grip was positively crushing when she got too enthusiastic.

“I never asked you to not talk to me!” I reminded her, giving her a squeeze. As I slid into my seat, I added, “You took it upon yourself.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt the banging,” she said as she scooted across the booth.

“You could have called me at work.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt you working.” She waggled her eyebrows. “So. Give it to me. Are we talking double penetration? Double vaginal? Double anal?”

“Excuse me.”

The waitress had appeared beside our table like a ninja, and now, she stared at us like we’d just stripped down to leather bras and started slathering mayonnaise on each other right at the table. It was not difficult for me to place her white face, mousy hair, and pinched expression onto the body of a Christian summer camp counselor who’d just found a hickey on a camper.

Holli chose to ignore all of the reality around us and placed her order like she’d been saying very normal, public appropriate things all along. “Yeah, I’ll have a G and T?”

I followed her lead and smiled innocently up at the server, even though I wanted to crawl under the table until the coast was clear for me to run out the door. “Sparkling water, please.”