Sophie (The Boss 8)

I lifted my head. “Do you remember when Mariposa needed stitches, and we picked Olivia up from school?” I asked El-Mudad.

He frowned, hesitantly began to shake his head, then said, “Oh, yes. Vaguely.”

“There was that woman there, the one I thought was an au pair for one of the kids at the school?” I stepped back and wiped my eyes. “She said she’d read my books?”

“If this sounded an alarm for you, why didn’t you say anything to me about it?” Neil demanded.

My bottom lip trembled.

“Don’t raise your voice at her. This isn’t her fault,” El-Mudad said firmly.

“It didn’t alarm me at the time,” I explained helplessly, the panic sneaking back in with every word. “Or, I did. I didn’t like that a stranger knew all about me, but I chalked it up to how I always feel about it.”

“You couldn’t have suspected from one meeting that someone was an investigator,” El-Mudad said.

“Were there any other times?” Neil asked, like a parent scolding a child.

“Yes, one, besides today,” I admitted, the sudden drop in my stomach fueling anger from discomfort. “But this isn’t my fault!”

“I never said it was your fault!” Neil exploded.

I continued my tirade over the top of his voice. “You tell me that seeing one person one time, then seeing someone who kinda maybe looks sorta like the person you saw one other time, means that you should call out the national fucking guard!”

“Both of you, enough!” El-Mudad shouted.

We fell silent. Neil cleared his throat. “Sophie, I apologize. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”

“You shouldn’t have,” I snapped back through tears. Softer, I added, “But I know what you’re feeling. I’m so angry and scared and helpless, and I want to rage at someone, but there’s nothing…I can’t…”

“The first thing we’ll do is call the lawyer,” Neil said. “Take out a restraining order against this ‘private investigator.’” He made finger quotes around the word, his voice dripping with disdain. “Do you know anything about her? Anything we can use to identify her?”

“Yeah. She gave me her card. I threatened her with a restraining order, and she just forked over her fucking business card.” I reached into my purse, hands fumbling with nerves.

“And what is the second thing?” El-Mudad asked, looking at Neil expectantly. “You said ‘first’. That implies there’s a second thing you’ll be doing.”

Neil didn’t answer.

El-Mudad took a deep breath of barely leashed anger. “Neil Charles Leif Elwood. You listen to me. If you do anything that would ruin my chances of adopting that little girl, of making Olivia my daughter…” His voice broke, and he paused to compose himself. “You can’t let them take away my daughter.”

Neil grabbed El-Mudad in a fierce hug. They held each other so tight I couldn’t breathe.

“That’s not going to happen,” Neil promised, his voice muffled in El-Mudad’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so sorry. I was angry.”

“We all are.” I went to a chair, too exhausted to stay on my feet. “But he’s right. We can’t do anything that would look bad in court if Laurence and Valerie decide to somehow challenge the adoption.”

“If?” Neil asked.

“I know you don’t believe it, but I don’t think Valerie will let it go that far. And if she did, she won’t win. This is a power trip. But we have the advantage. We have proof that a private investigator has followed us. We have evidence that they at least planned to kidnap Olivia—”

“We don’t, though,” El-Mudad said.

“Olivia’s testimony is evidence. So is Mariposa’s testimony. And Rudy knows that something is up. He can vouch for us, too.” Just discussing our options made me feel more in control.

“But would Rudy help us?” El-Mudad asked, turning to Neil. “Against Valerie?”

“If he were subpoenaed, he wouldn’t have much choice. But I hope it doesn’t come to that.” Neil raked a hand through his hair. “I could really use a drink.”

“No, baby,” I said gently. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

El-Mudad cleared his throat and raised one finger. “Um. Would a cigarette be cheating?”

“If it keeps him from drinking this once? I say no, as long as it doesn’t become a habit.” I stopped and frowned. “Wait. Are you a smoker?”

“No, no. Of course not,” El-Mudad said, not meeting my eyes. “I just sometimes...smoke cigarettes.”

“So…you smoke.” I crossed my arms.

“Only when I need one!”

“Exactly.” I tossed my hands up. “Was that anything you thought you might want to share with your spouses?”

He rolled his eyes. “I keep a pack in the glove box of my Tesla. Neil never drives it, and god knows it would have to be an emergency for you to venture into the garage. I sneak off now and then to have one. Sometimes, I go several days between them. But this has been stressful. I need to self-medicate.”

“That’s the kind of thing we’ve been trying to avoid!” I tossed up my hands. “Fine! Go off and smoke your secret cigarettes instead of dealing with your emotions!” I stopped my raging and reconsidered. “But I’m coming with you.”