Sophie (The Boss 8)
“Well, yeah. You’ll be my nearest family,” Molly pointed out, and the word hit me square in the chest. She considered me family. I wasn’t sure the rest of my half-siblings did yet, or ever would.
“I’m going to be a buzzkill,” El-Mudad warned them, “and tell you to put all of this nonsense back until after dinner. It’s not that far away.”
“And hide it,” I added. “I don’t need to know where to find all of this when I’m bored.”
Chapter Seven
I’d never been quite so nervous as when the weekend of the visitation-that-was-not-to-be arrived.
“Do you think we’ll need security?” I asked softly, watching as our staff loaded the girls’ things into the back of El-Mudad’s roomy Range Rover.
“They’ll be close,” Neil promised. “Though, I don’t think Laurence would become violent.”
“At least, not with us,” I said grimly, under my breath.
El-Mudad exited the house behind us. “Well, the girls are running late, as usual.”
Sometimes, he said things like that with fondness. Today, we had a deadline, and all of us were keyed up.
Neil checked his watch. “If Olivia sees Valerie’s car—”
El-Mudad took Neil’s hand and lifted it to his lips for a reassuring kiss. He held on even as he let their hands drop. “She won’t. I promise you.”
“I’m not sure it would matter,” I said, trying for some kind of bright side. “I mean, seeing Queen Elsa live on stage? I don’t think even the promise of a weekend at grandma’s house could lure her away from that.”
“Hopefully, her attention span holds out,” El-Mudad said, distracted by the phone in his hand. He lifted it to his ear. “Come on. We have to go. Get your sister and Molly and get out here.”
“If there’s one thing we can be happy about, it’s that the girls get along so well.” I had worried that Molly would feel like she didn’t belong.
“Perhaps Molly can convince Amal to go to NYU,” El-Mudad said. He wanted so badly to keep his daughters close.
I smiled at him. “I’ll put a good word in.”
Mariposa brought Olivia out, and we got our hugs goodbye as the other three girls hurried through the door and to the car. I took Molly aside for a moment.
“Are you cool going off without me?” I didn’t want her to feel awkward. “I swear, I’m not dumping you off on them.”
“No, it’s fine!” She sounded as though being upset or offended was out of the question. “Seeing a show on Broadway? Hello?”
“And another one tomorrow,” I reminded her. “Hadestown, here we come.”
She threw her arms around my neck just as Amal called, “Molly! Get in here, or you’re sitting with Olivia!”
“Hey!” Olivia shouted in an outraged whine.
“Be kind!” El-Mudad barked.
Neil grinned at him. “Good luck.”
“The same to you.” El-Mudad kissed him on the cheek, then gave me one, as well. “We’ll see you tonight.”
Neil and I stood on the stoop while the chauffeur closed everyone’s doors, and we waved as they pulled away.
I turned to Neil. “Now, we wait.”
To keep myself occupied, I went to the kitchen and put on some coffee while Neil called the security office and asked our guards to stay discreetly close to the house. Julia sensed my jumpiness as I fussed with the hammered bronze urn and the gilded Butterfly Garden-patterned cups on the service cart.
“Maybe don’t use the Versace if you think they will be—”
“Airborne?” I suggested. I wondered how much our staff knew about the situation. “Is this whole thing super obvious?”
The older woman let out a signature exasperated breath. “When CPS came? Yes. But I don’t want to get involved.”
“I appreciate your professionalism.” I stepped back from all my pointless rearranging. “Can you bring this into the formal living room and leave it, please? And then you can cut out early if you want.”
She nodded then left, and I paced in the kitchen until my cell phone vibrated with an alert from the front gate.
They were here.
I met Neil at the front door. He looked pale in his black sweater. I hated the color on him; it was too severe. I reached up to fuss with the collar of the blue button-down he wore beneath it, and he brushed my hand away. I settled for smoothing down the skirt of my mustard-yellow A-line dress.
I seethed inwardly.
Once again, we waited. And waited. Knowing now what we learned about the situation, I was sure Neil was right about it being a power move.
When they came to the door, they didn’t step over the threshold.
“Neil, Sophie,” Valerie said tightly. “Is Olivia ready?”
“Come inside,” he responded, stepping back and motioning into the house.
“We can’t stay,” Laurence said, his tone cold as he ordered us around. “Please bring Olivia out.”
“No,” Neil said, and my chest tightened. He was calm and firm. I’d heard that voice before. It was his disappointed employer’s voice. It would not go over well with Laurence.