The Boyfriend (The Boss 7)

“Take it out of my allowance, sugar daddy.” I rolled my eyes. Neil didn’t actually begrudge me spending money, but he also didn’t understand why I liked spending money on my friends as much as I did. His social circle had either grown up rich or become rich. He never seemed to meet any people who weren’t choking on handfuls of assets. “I know they could probably afford it, but Deja and Holli are the kind of people who would see a baby nurse as something extravagant and pointless. The working class generally considers caring for one’s young as one’s own responsibility. Except for daycare, of course.”

“Holli and Deja are hardly working class anymore,” Neil reminded me.

“Once working class, always working class.” I believed that deep in my heart due to my own experiences. “I mean, just with nicer stuff. But the mentality never goes away.”

“You seem to abandon that mentality handily whenever we pass an Hermès boutique,” he teased.

If I weren’t so predictable, I would have accused him of spying on me while I shopped earlier.

“But I understand. And I’m only joking, Sophie. You know I don’t care what you lavish upon your friends and family.”

“That’s good because the guest list for Christmas is looking pretty lavish.” I’d had no idea so many people in my family would be willing to spend the holidays abroad. “Anyway, back to Deja. When I saw her today, she said she was already looking for preschools. And I was like, phew, I’m thrilled Neil already did all of that without mentioning it to me, right?”

He opened his mouth as if he were going to ask me a question, but it just hadn’t formed in his brain, yet.

“I mean, because preschool is like, apparently so super competitive? We needed to be looking for one like, from the moment she was born, I guess?” Not that we had been in charge of things then. Maybe Emma and Michael had already locked the preschool thing down? I couldn’t remember the lawyer saying anything about that, and he had all their important paperwork. “Emma never happened to mention to you...”

Neil shook his head. “No. And to be perfectly honest...Valerie took care of all of that when Emma was young. I don’t recall ever having to make a decision beyond which color pen to use on the paperwork. Even then, some of that paperwork specified a preference.”

“So...no chance that you’ve already bought Olivia’s way into a gleaming, ivory tower future by picking exactly the right school?” The bottom of my stomach dropped out. If Olivia didn’t go soon, would that delay kindergarten? And graduating? Would she have trouble getting into college?

“I hadn’t given any thought to it, really. At Olivia’s age, my siblings and I had private tutors. I don’t remember going to school formally until I was much older.” Neil frowned. “I don’t see what the rush is to send her off all day.”

“I’m not in a rush,” I said, a little defensive. I found myself always walking a line that I had drawn on my own behalf. I’d been adamant about not wanting children and that had really haunted me ever since we’d become Olivia’s guardians. I wasn’t a child-hating monster, but that was the impression a lot of people got when they found out a woman didn’t want kids. Now, I monitored everything I said to make sure it didn’t sound like I resented Olivia or didn’t want her around.

But facts were facts, and Neil was overlooking some important ones. “You had brothers and sisters to keep you company. Olivia doesn’t get much socialization with kids her own age.”

“I think she gets plenty of attention,” he argued. “You and I are both home nearly all the time—“

“No, we’re not. And it doesn’t matter how much attention she gets. Watching Dynasty reruns with my mom doesn’t count as socialization. Olivia needs to...roam free with her own kind.”

After a long moment of silence, Neil sighed. “You have a point. We can’t keep her locked up like a princess in a tower until she’s ready for boarding school.”

Boarding school? Yikes. We would cross that highly contentious bridge when we came to it.

At the mere mention of princesses and towers, Olivia perked up. “Tangled?”

“Yeah, we can watch Tangled.” I was eager to move the subject away from eventually shipping her off to a boarding school. And I couldn’t turn down a frothy, fluffy romance, no matter what was going on. “What about you, Afi? Want to come watch Tangled? We can make popcorn and put out the sleeping bags in the theater.”

“I think I’ll stay here and enjoy something non-animated after a long day of children’s television.” He sounded grateful for the break. “Keep an eye on bedtime?”

“Always.” I would keep an eye on it and watch it breeze right past. If Olivia didn’t get firm visual confirmation that Mother Gothel was defeated, she had nightmares. “While you’re enjoying your grown-up TV, see if you can’t at least google preschools and what it’s going to take to get into one.”