His hand stilled at my back. "You surprise me so much."
"I'm not trying to surprise you. I'm just trying to be a good friend. Or a good girlfriend, I guess."
He resumed his slow petting of my hair, and I laid my head back down. "Well, I suppose it's only fair to tell you... don't expect Emma to be particularly warm when she's here tomorrow."
"I kind of considered that ship sailed when she accidentally heard us having sex," I reminded him.
"She wouldn't have liked you, anyway," he admitted with some reluctance. "She doesn't trust people easily. I think that's my fault. She had a good relationship with Elizabeth, and she was hurt by the way the marriage ended."
"That doesn't seem very fair. You couldn't have a baby just to stay married. Not if you didn't want one."
He wrapped his arm around me to give me a squeeze. "Are you sure you don't mind talking about this?"
"Not at all." I scooted up the bed to lie on the pillow and face him. "Am I supposed to be jealous of your ex? Sensitive about admitting you've been with other people? You’re with me now. What would be the point?"
"Fair enough." His small, sad smile pierced my heart. This whole time, he'd been hurting, and he'd hidden it to make things easier for me. "Elizabeth never mentioned her... yearning for motherhood, if I can sarcastically borrow her phrase, in the two years that we dated and later lived together. It was only after we signed a prenuptial agreement that held a clause for child support that the idea seemed to organically occur to her."
"Oh." I didn't know anything about prenuptial agreements. I had no idea they could cover child support. "I take it that it was a lot?"
"Fifty thousand per month in addition to whatever family court awarded. For two children, it went up to seventy-five thousand, then an additional ten for each child thereafter." His eyes met mine. "When we came back from our honeymoon, she admitted she'd had her IUD removed a few weeks before the wedding. That was a rather difficult blow to my trust."
"But you stayed with her?" I wasn't sure if I could have stayed with someone who seemed to be playing me like that.
"I stayed. For a year, a year and half. It took me a long time to face that our separation wasn’t going to end in reconciliation. I wanted to make things work. Partially for Emma. She and Elizabeth hit it off right away, and they were very close." He paused. "And partially for myself. I loved her. I didn't want to believe she’d had her change of heart because of the prenup. I'm still not entirely sure it was. And I believe that Elizabeth's affection for Emma was genuine, but Emma is quite hurt by the whole thing. She's angry at Elizabeth, and at me. I think she blames me for not protecting her from a person who ended up disappointing her."
Emma was my age, so she would have been nineteen or twenty when her father had gotten involved with Elizabeth. "How old is Elizabeth?"
"Thirty-six." He raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry, I don't have a string of twenty-four year olds in my past."
I rolled my eyes at him. "That wasn't what I was worried about. I was just thinking how devastating it would have been for me, at twenty, to make friends with a woman who was older than me, to develop a supportive, encouraging relationship with her, and then have to doubt that friendship. She probably doesn't blame you for not protecting her. She probably blames Elizabeth for hurting you. And herself, for not protecting you."
He studied my face for a moment, and I worried briefly that I might have said the wrong thing and insulted him. Then he said, with a slow smile of admiration, "You're a very intelligent person, Sophie."
“I do okay for myself most of the time.” I leaned over and kissed him. "You got divorced. Shit happens. It’s not like you got married planning to get divorced. You don’t seem like the temporary marriage type. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you'd make a pretty awesome husband."
"Oh my, that does raise some red flags, coming from a woman who's too afraid of commitment to accept the offer of space in the medicine chest." He kissed me again, smiling against my mouth. "But I'll hold onto hope."
My stomach lurched. I didn't want to examine that statement too much.
Chapter Twenty
The next morning, Neil and I went through our usual routine. We woke up, pretended we would get out of bed, didn’t, talked about getting out of bed some more, didn’t, then finally got up when it seemed like we might be in serious danger of another weird morning meeting with Emma.
“Since it’s so close to lunch time already, would you mind if we just sent Sue out for bagels?” Neil had to raise his voice over the sound of my hairdryer. He was shaving at his bathroom sink, a towel around his hips, his hair pushed back and wet from the shower.
I shut off the hairdryer and fluffed my mostly-dry brown waves, frowning at myself in the mirror. “Um, I think I’ll pass on breakfast. Something about meeting your daughter again is giving me serious butterflies.”
“I don’t know why,” he said, frowning as he tilted his head back to drag the razor up his throat. “It isn’t as though I’m looking for a new mother for her. If she doesn’t like you, or if you don’t like her, you’re both adults. I assume you can both be civil to each other.”
“As the day is long,” I agreed, but mentally, I added, at least I can be.
Sure, the last time I’d seen Emma had to have been a shock for her. If I had walked into my mother’s house and overheard her having sex with some random stranger, I would have put my head in the oven.
No matter what Neil said, this was his daughter. Her not liking me might affect things between Neil and I more than he anticipated.
I wrapped up the hairdryer cord and took it to my overnight bag to exchange for my curling iron. Okay, so it’s not like I needed to impress Emma. But I would feel a lot better if I looked awesome today.
“This is a treat for me,” I chirped as I plugged in the cord. “I never get to see you shave.”
“Only because you don’t stay the night during the week,” he reminded me. “You’re welcome to stay over any time.”
“I know. I still just... need my space. And my sleep.” I grinned at him.
“Fair enough.” I knew from his tone that he was trying to act like my rejection didn’t bother him. He put his razor aside and splashed water onto his face.
While he wiped away the remaining shaving cream with a washcloth, I casually strolled back to my bag. I pulled out my toothbrush. It was still wet from when I had used it that morning. It was also brand new, though I didn’t expect Neil to have noticed. He watched me in the mirror as he patted his face dry, then dropped his gaze to the brushed steel toothbrush holder between the two sinks. I didn’t meet his eyes, but I knew what a big deal this was to him.
He tried so hard to act as disinterested as I was acting nonchalant. Both of us were terrible actors.
A giggle bubbled up my throat as I dropped the toothbrush into the holder. When I looked up, he wiped his face and tossed the towel on the counter. “Come here,” he growled, catching me around the waist. He hauled me onto my tiptoes, and bent his head to kiss me. My fingers dug into his forearms so I could balance.
It seemed so bizarre to me that such a little thing would make him happy. And it was just a toothbrush, after all. A part of my mind argued that it starts with a toothbrush. Then I’d be leaving a pair of shoes, a portion of my wardrobe, then Bam! We were living together. I figured I could most likely space out those steps pretty wide, though, and there was no reason we ever had to go beyond “toothbrush,” anyway.
He lifted his head and grinned down at me. “I fucking love you.”
“I fucking love you, too.” I squeezed his arms and stepped back. “Come on, we can’t be naked this time when she gets here.”
Neil was dressed and headed to the kitchen before I was done with my hair, so I hurried to put on a little lip gloss and mascara. I dressed super casual, in jeans and a fitted blue tee. I padded through the foyer on my bare feet, and heard the sound of a key in the door.
I seriously debate
d running as fast as I could, but I didn’t, because I knew I would get caught. The door opened and Emma stepped in. She forced a smile of resignation, a wordless, let’s get this over with, and said, “Hello.”
“Hi,” I said, offering a half-hearted wave.
She stood silently for a moment, shrugged, her eyebrows shooting up as she gestured toward the hallway that led to the other bedrooms. She went in that direction, towing her wheeled suitcase behind her, and I went to the kitchen.
Sue, the housekeeper, was at the kitchen island, grating ginger that smelled like heaven. I was surprised at how effectively the scent calmed my nervous stomach.
Sue was in her thirties, blonde, tan and fit, and probably the best private chef in the city. On top of that, she did the cleaning and the laundry, so I always felt super guilty if we left our clothes strewn across the floor or something. She worked from nine AM until eight in the evening, so some mornings I hurried out of bed and tidied up before she got in.
“Don’t bother to ask her for a crumb, you’ll be cruelly denied,” Neil warned me from the breakfast table.
“You said you wanted lunch at noon. It’s eleven-forty. You missed your window.” Sue winked at me. “I will look the other way if you get yourself a bowl of cereal, Sophie.”
“No thanks.” I didn’t think my guts could handle food with the way my nerves were jumping. I got myself a cup of coffee and slid onto the bench beside Neil. “Emma’s here.”
“Oh?” He looked up, trying to disguise his alarm. “She was headed to her room. We said ‘hi.’ Don’t panic.” I sipped my coffee, trying to be a little center of calm while Sue cooked.
She was nearly finished with lunch by the time Emma came into the kitchen. Neil got up from the table and went to greet her.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he murmured, wrapping her up in a huge hug. “How was your flight?”
“No babies, no hacking coughs.” She shrugged and stepped back, her hands in her pockets. “Hi, Sue.”
“Welcome home, Emma,” Sue said, looking over her shoulder from the stove.
Emma’s gaze reluctantly fell on me, because there was nowhere else to go. “Sophie.”
“Emma.” What else was I going to say?
“The table is set in the dining room.” Emma gestured over her shoulder with her thumb. “Are we being exceptionally posh for a reason?”
Neil nodded and came back for his coffee. “I thought we might all have lunch together. You could get to know Sophie a little better that way.”
Emma’s eyebrows rose. “What a wonderful idea.”
We moved into the dining room, with Emma leading the way. Neil put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed reassuringly as we passed through the door.
“So, Sophie,” Emma began as she scooted her chair in. She sat to the right of the head of the table, where Neil took his seat. “Are you living here now?”
“What?” I took my chair, to Neil’s left. “No, no, no.”
The corners of Neil’s mouth twitched. “Sophie stays with me on the weekends. We don’t get a chance to spend much time together during the week.”
“Ah.” Emma reached for the carafe of ice water on the table and poured herself a glass. “That explains why the TV room is in shambles.”
A totally unsubtle shade of red crept up Neil’s neck.
“I’m only teasing,” Emma chided. “I think it’s sweet, really. And I’ll be out of your hair tonight.”
“Oh?” Neil lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t meet his daughter’s gaze. “Will you be staying with - “
“With Michael?” she finished for him. “Yes. I’ll be staying with Michael. My boyfriend. Of two years. Surely you don’t have a problem with a twenty- four-year-old woman spending the night with her boyfriend?”
“Touché.”
Sue emerged from the kitchen and set a huge, square black bowl on the table. I had gotten way too used to amazing food. When I went home on Sunday afternoon, I would end up standing over my stove, staring sadly into a little pot of mac and cheese. Neil’s housekeeper had spoiled me into major food dissatisfaction everywhere else.
Lunch was a salad of mixed lettuces, sprouts, and shredded kohlrabi. On top were three chilled fillets of some kind of white fish. Sue dished out the food for us - and brought out a non-fish-touching salad for Emma - and left.
Emma cleared her throat and addressed me. “Sophie, I feel we got off on the wrong foot the last time we met. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize my father was dating anyone, and it came as a bit of a shock. Especially so soon after his divorce.”
I paused mid-chew, and hastily swallowed. I took a sip of my water before I answered. “It’s all right. I honestly don’t know how I would have reacted to catching my mom with a boyfriend like that.”
Oh god, why did I have to bring up the fact she’d heard us having sex? Could the floor just swallow me up, please?
Neil swooped in and saved us. “Sophie is a beauty editor at Porteras,” he said, reaching for his water glass. “They’ve recently gone completely cruelty free.”
“Have they?” Emma speared some lettuce with her fork. “That’s very... forward thinking of you.”
“Mm,” Neil intoned noncommittally. “It was your mother’s idea.” He glanced at me briefly, then down at his plate. “I’m just keeping Porteras warm for her, while she - ”
“Grapples with her inability to do the humane thing and euthanize her old, yappy dog?” Emma rolled her eyes. “How is it working out, Sophie?”
Why was she asking me? How the fuck did she expect me to answer that? Especially now that my head with spinning at the idea of Neil no longer working at Porteras. Why hadn’t he mentioned this to me?
I knew how she expected me to answer, but I didn’t want to lie. Not just to get her on my good side. So I didn’t really answer at all. “It’s been... interesting. It’s been a lot of work, but we’re discovering some cool products we would have never sought out before.”
There. Diplomatic. Not a lie.
“Oh, I’m so pleased to hear it,” Emma said, beaming at her father. Then, as she looked back to her plate, she added, “Lots of untried lipsticks to fill up the pages, and in a neat ripple effect, no one sprays poison in a rabbit’s eyes.”
“Emma, could you at least dim your hostility?” Neil asked, sounding perfectly pleasant.
I wondered if all their family lunches went over like this, or if I was the magic ingredient making it all possible.
I was ready to settle in for a rough meal when Emma put down her fork, closed her eyes, and said, “You know what? You’re right. I’m sorry. Sophie, I am sorry. I have been very rude to you.”
“Oh?” I don’t know why I sounded so surprised by that. I already knew she’d been rude. “If it helps any, I’m very understanding. You could continue being rude to me, and I’d probably get over it.”
“What an odd thing to say.” She smiled, and it was actually genuine. “I like that you’re so honest.”
“No one would ever accuse Sophie of withholding the truth.” Neil said over his water glass.
I thought about Jake and Gabriella and whatever they were scheming, and my guts knotted up. Shit. I should have told him last night, exhausted or not. I resolved I would tell him as soon as possible.
“So, how did you guys meet?” Emma sat up in her chair, very straight, and said, “This is me, putting on my ‘taking an interest’ hat. So you’d better make it good.”
I’d just slid a bite of fish into my mouth, so I chewed while Neil answered. “We met at LAX. We were both on the same flight to Tokyo. It got delayed, and we... took the opportunity to get to know each other better.”
“Gross,” she said with a forced smile and a nod. Then her forehead creased with confusion. “Wait, you haven’t gone to Tokyo since we went last year. Were you and Elizabeth- “
Neil looked like a man who could see the train coming, but he just couldn’t get off the tracks in time.
Well, she’d liked my hones
ty before. I hoped she would still appreciate it now. “It was before they got together, actually.”
Her narrowed gaze slid to her father, who was swallowing water at a rapid rate. “Exactly how long before?”
“Six years ago. We met six years ago. I was eighteen,” I stated firmly, before Neil could try to bluff his way out of his daughter’s interrogation. Better to get it all out now, I figured. “If it makes you feel any better, I told him I was twenty-five.”
Emma pushed her plate back and slowly folded her hands in her lap. “This was a lovely salad. It’s a shame I won’t be able to finish it.”
“The way Sophie and I met...” Neil paused and released a resigned sigh. “Things happened the way they happened, and I don’t regret any of it. That’s all I can say without digging myself a deeper grave.”
I snorted. “Look, it’s weird. It’s incredibly weird. Let’s just face that fact and move on.”
“Good idea,” Emma agreed reasonably. She smoothed her napkin in her lap. She forced a smile at her dad. “Mum wanted to know if you’re coming for Christmas, and if you were, would you be bringing anyone?”
As she asked the question, her gaze slowly drifted over to me, in the most obvious way possible. Neil answered cautiously. “We... Haven’t discussed anything yet. Tell your mother I’ll talk to her this week.”
“Oh, you and Emma’s mom have Christmas together?” I don’t think my mom and dad had ever even been in the same room together after he’d left us.
“Every year,” Neil explained. “We tried to parent Emma as a team as much as possible, even after we separated.”
“That’s really cool.” My heart hurt a little. Emma was so lucky to have had a father. But it was totally weird to think of Neil in that context, at the same time. Here was a woman my age, who saw him in a completely different light than I did. A context I could never understand, because I hadn’t had a father. Maybe that’s why this felt so weird.
“I’m going to go grab my sweater,” I said, pushing back from the table. “I’ll just be second.”
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