“If that isn’t Emma, I’ll give the person on the other side of that door a hundred pounds,” Neil called. “Come in, Emma.”
I carefully arranged the blankets around my lower half. I was wearing a tank top and a pair of Neil’s boxers, and they covered everything that needed covering, but I didn’t necessarily want his daughter to see me wearing her dad’s underwear.
“Happy Christmas you two,” she warbled, and I had a feeling her uncharacteristically bright mood had more to do with Michael staying here than anything about Santa Claus or cookies.
Though I would never say so to Neil, I liked Michael, and I could see why Emma liked him. The son of powerful attorneys who worked for the U.N., Michael was well-educated, well-spoken, as handsome and toothy as a Kennedy, with waves of brown hair and the most drop-dead gorgeous blue eyes I’ve ever seen. He’d played football at Stanford, and he’d maintained his athlete’s build. He towered over tiny Emma like a fairytale prince rescuing a damsel. The guy was totally swoon-worthy, Emma adored him, and he treated her like a princess.
Neil hated him.
Emma stood in front of her father, dressed in pajama pants and a well-worn Stanford t-shirt that hung nearly to her knees. Holding out her cupped hands, she said primly, “You know why I’m here.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Neil went through the secret door— which lead to a dressing room— and returned with a neatly gift-wrapped box. He handed it to Emma, and she hurried over the nook in the wall to open it.
My stomach clenched with dread. “Oh no.”
They both looked over at me with perplexed expressions.
“I was so busy getting ready to come over that I didn’t get anyone any presents.” How embarrassing was that going to be? Hello, family, this is my girlfriend Sophie, she’s rude at Christmas time.
“It’s okay,” Emma said with a happy shrug. “I didn’t get you anything, either. Out of spite. I’m still not okay with all this.”
“None taken,” I said dryly. “Neil, I didn’t get you anything.”
“You’re here. That’s really all I need.” The smile he gave me was so warm and earnest, I was able to momentarily forget that I’d come bearing no gifts, like some kind of shitty reverse Santa Claus.
“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to buy this man presents, anyway?” Emma huffed. “He’s like a toddler. If he wants something, he gets it. By the time the holidays roll around, he’s already got every book, DVD, and gadget that came out during the year.”
“So, you have to work extra hard to impress me. That builds character.” He sipped his coffee as Emma pulled the lid off the box.
“Ooh, very nice,” she cooed as she lifted out a distinctive Stella McCartney tote of dark blue faux leather. “Thank you.”
Neil leaned down to kiss her on the head. “Now the rest you’ll get after dinner—”
“And not a moment before, I know, I know.” She popped up from her seat and gestured to me. “I hope you have something for Sophie.”
“I think being here is my present,” I told her. “Oh, and some earrings that he already gave me.”
“Do I have anything else?” He pretended to think. “Yes, I think I do.”
I gave him a very suspicious arched brow as he left the room again.
“Get used to it, Sophie. He’s going to spoil the hell out of you.” She snorted. “The first Christmas Elizabeth spent with us, he— “
She quickly stopped herself and flushed bright red.
“Don’t worry about it.” I waved my hand. “I’m not egotistical enough to ban the mention of his ex’s name. You guys liked her for a reason.”
“She liked my father for a reason, as well,” Emma muttered.
“Who likes me?” Neil asked as he returned, looking between the two of us.
“I do,” I chirped sweetly.
He had a small, flat box in his hands, and he passed it over to me, leaning down to whisper, “Merry Christmas,” in my ear.
I unwrapped it warily. “Why do I feel like you’re using the anniversary of our Lord and savior’s birth to satisfy your need to buy me things? Not that I’m complaining.”
“Sophie, complain? Never,” he chided.
Under the paper was an instantly recognizable flat, navy blue box with the initials H and W printed on the flocked velvet. I looked up at Neil with wide eyes. “What is this?”
“It’s me, using the anniversary of our Lord and savior’s birth to satisfy my need to buy you things. You wouldn’t be so churlish as to turn down a Christmas gift, would you?” he asked me innocently.
“Oh my god, open it!” Emma squealed.
I lifted the lid and almost choked on my own spit. Nestled inside, attached to a delicate chain, was an enormous round brilliant cut diamond surrounded by a scalloped square platinum setting and more tiny diamonds. It was delicate and opulent and so, so shiny.
“Wow,” Emma breathed. “It’s very pretty. Men probably died for those diamonds, but very pretty.”
It took all my force of will not to roll my eyes at her. “Harry Winston diamonds come from Canada.”
“Oh?” she sounded surprised. “Good job, Dad.”
“Thank you, Emma.” He glanced nervously to me. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”
Emma rose, taking her present with her. “I’ll give you guys a minute. Michael and I are having breakfast in the morning room in half an hour, if you’d like to join us?”
“Thank you, perhaps we will,” Neil told her. But he still looked nervously at me.
Emma closed the door behind her, and I looked up, unsure of what to say. The necklace I held in my hands probably cost as much as a car. Money was already a huge sticking point in our relationship. But now that I had more of an idea about the kind of world he lived in, the kind of fortune he actually had and the privileges of his upbringing, I understood why it was so difficult for him to grasp why expensive presents wigged me out.
“Please, don’t be angry.” His voice was soft and uncertain. “You don’t have to keep it if it offends you.”
It was hard to figure out a response. “It’s lovely. It really is, Neil. And I think I’m starting to get it. It would be one thing if you only showed your love by buying things. But you make me feel so cherished and protected every day, not because you spend money on me, but because you do things like... like spot me so I can nap in the bathtub without drowning.”
He laughed gently at that. “Well, why wouldn’t I? I don’t want you to drown.”
“The point is... maybe I’ve been a little bossy about the way you spend your money. After all, you know better than I do what’s in your bank account. And I don’t want to know, just like you don’t want to know what’s in mine. We are from two very different worlds, and I have to respect our differences, too.” I tilted the box in my hand, admiring the way the light glinted and sparkled through the heart of the diamond. “And it’s so fucking shiny.”
We both laughed then, and he took the box from my hands, unclasping the chain and leaning with one knee on the bed. I lifted my messy, unbrushed hair and let him fasten the necklace. The platinum was cold against the hollow of my throat. It was a ridiculous thing to pair with sleepwear, but it was worth it when I saw the happiness on Neil’s face.
“I don’t buy you things to change you,” he said softly. “Please, don’t ever believe that of me. I treasure you. In a completely non-objectifying way. And I suppose I still subscribe to the outdated patriarchal notion of showering a woman with gifts to woo her.”
“You don’t have to woo me. You’ve already got me.” I laid my hand gently over the diamond at my throat. “Look, I’m done telling you what to do with your money. Just don’t tell me what to do with your money, and we’re on good terms.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness, because there are other gifts under the tree for you.”
“Oh man.” I hung my head in shame. “I’m so sorry, Neil, I could have gotten you something, I was just so bu
sy getting stuff nailed down for the move—”
“I meant it when I said my gift was having you here. I was so worried I would lose you...” He cleared his throat and brightened considerably. “But you’re here now. Why don’t you get dressed, and we’ll go down for breakfast with Emma and horrible Michael.”
“You know, you have to stop calling him that,” I scolded gently. “Even the least perceptive person on the planet could see that she’s head-over-heels for him. And he’s a nice guy.”
“Is he? I hadn’t noticed. I suppose I can’t see past the part where he’s having sex with my sweet little girl,” Neil grumbled.
“You’re having sex with someone’s sweet little girl,” I reminded him. “Emma is a grown woman. Ease up a little.”
“Stop being so fucking reasonable and kiss me,” he ordered.
We were a little late to breakfast.
* * * *
I stood before the huge Christmas tree in the drawing room, struck by the beauty of the array of ornaments— all different, but all cheery red to match the enormous area rug underfoot— and the tiny white lights nestled in the boughs. I’d never had a real tree growing up. There just wasn’t room in a single-wide, and my mom had terrible allergies. I leaned close and took a deep breath of pine.
Beyond the tall, leaded glass windows, I looked down the long drive and saw headlights in the distance. I wondered who would be the first to arrive. I hoped Emma would be down when her mother got here. I was bizarrely anxious about meeting her. Sure, whatever she and Neil had was over, but Valerie would always be the mother of his child. On top of that, she was his business partner.
I plucked at the neck of my sequined black, cowl-backed sheath dress and fiddled with the three quarters length sleeves. It seemed too ridiculously New York-ish all of a sudden.
“Ooh, you look nice,” Emma said, floating into the room in a gorgeous silver taffeta dress that could have stepped right out of the 1950’s. Her short hair was scrunched into loose, messy waves, and she wore a sparkly silver headband. “Where’s Dad?”
“He was on the phone in the library when I came down.” I was a little nervous. After all, I was going to be meeting his family for the first time, and he hadn’t seen what I was wearing yet. Maybe he wouldn’t like it. “You look amazing. I’m having fits of jealousy over that dress.”
Emma smoothed down her skirt. “Thank you. It’s vintage. Buying second-hand decreases the demand for new silk.”
“Ah.” I never knew exactly what I should say in the face of Emma’s earnest concern for things like silk worms. She headed for the punch bowl set up at the other end of the room, and I patted my hair, making sure my textured French twist hadn’t become a sloppy mess.
“Look at you.”
I turned to see Neil standing in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his steel gray trousers. His black button-down dress shirt was perfectly tailored, the collar and top button undone. He took me in from head to toe and back again as he came to me. With my hands in his, he held my arms slightly out to my sides and admired the view. “You look incredible.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I stepped into his embrace and laid my hands flat against the sleek fabric of his shirtfront as I gazed up at him. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
When he leaned his head down to kiss me, Emma cleared her throat loudly and said, “Your child is in the room.”
His lips twisted in a wry, long-suffering smirk as he lifted his head. “Yes, Emma. You look very pretty, as well.”
Emma craned her long neck and rose on the balls of her feet, peering past us at the window. “There’s a car pulling up the drive. I bet that’s mum.”
While Emma dashed out of the drawing room, into the gallery beyond, I looked up at Neil with a grimace. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m really nervous about meeting Valerie.”
“Don’t be. You’re not auditioning, Sophie. You’re here as a part of the family. You’re already in.”
I took a deep breath and nodded with a tight smile. “Okay. I’ll just keep reminding myself of that.”
“Please do. I want you to have a happy Christmas. I know you’re missing your family terribly.”
“Not terribly.” That was a total lie. I’d been mentally calculating what stage of Scaife family Christmas was happening across the ocean all day long, but I didn’t want Neil to feel guilty. I’d made the choice to come here. “They got me for twenty-four years. I can spare one for you.”
“It’s the best present I’ve ever gotten.” He ducked his head and finally, finally kissed me.
“I don’t see any mistletoe,” a cheerful voice with a faint Scottish accent warbled, and we both looked up.
Neil grinned and rubbed my lipstick off his bottom lip with the side of his index finger. “Sophie, this is Valerie Stern, Emma’s mother. Valerie, this is my girlfriend, Sophie.”
“I should hope so, otherwise you’d have some explaining to do.” Valerie smiled a smile of the straightest, whitest teeth I’d ever seen. And I used to work at a fashion magazine. She did not look remotely old enough to be Emma’s mom, but I knew she was about the same age as Neil, since they went to college together. Her hair was a gorgeous, glossy auburn that fell in perfectly smooth slashes to her shoulders. Her eyes were big and animated, and she came over immediately to shake my hand without a trace of awkwardness.
I almost let out a sigh of relief, but I thought that would be rude. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“And you. Emma has told me all about you.” She turned to give Neil a friendly hug and a kiss on the cheek— it looked so much less awkward when she did it than when I did, because she was easily four inches taller than me.
“Happy Christmas, Neil,” she said with warmth I knew I shouldn’t have interpreted in a jealous way, but I couldn’t help myself.
I had never been in a relationship with someone who had a serious past with another woman. On the one hand, I was comforted by the fact that they were able to maintain a friendship even after their romantic relationship was over. That meant that if we didn’t work out for some reason, it probably wouldn’t be an awful breakup. On the other hand, I hated literally everything about her from the moment she walked into the room. I hated that I perceived this bond between them I was driven to try and overcome. I didn’t want to be the woman who needed to fill every role in her partner’s life. I hated that their daughter was in her twenties and they were still this parental unit for her sake. I thought it was weird and I was super envious because my parents hadn’t been able to do that for me. And I really hated that kiss on the cheek.
Most of all, I hated my jealousy, which for all I knew, was totally unfounded. There was nothing wrong with anything she’d said or done, but I irrationally wanted to pick apart everything about her. It wasn’t a nice way to feel, and I was so disappointed in myself.
Then the butler walked in carrying bags of presents to put under the tree, and I realized that I was probably just feeling out of my element. After all, Valerie had brought beautifully wrapped gifts in Harrod’s bags, and I was used to seeing hand-wrapped presents toted in laundry baskets. We certainly didn’t get this dressed up at home, and I suspected the punch bowl was not full of sherbet, Hawaiian Punch, and 7-Up.
That was my problem. Valerie didn’t intimidate me; Neil’s whole life intimidated me, because I felt like I would never really fit in to it.
Gosh, I was sure glad I figured that out right before meeting his mother. She and Neil’s sister were only about ten minutes behind Valerie.
When Neil had told me his mother was in her eighties, I had expected someone who looked frailer than she did. In fact, she was a little plump. And I was surprised at how much she and Neil looked alike; they shared the same kind green eyes and perpetually amused expression. She smiled broadly and reached her arms up as Neil went to embrace her.
“Mother,” He said, bending over her wheelchair to kiss her cheek. She patted his face, the way mothers the world over do to
their children, and I hid my smile behind my hand.
“How are you feeling, little bird?” she asked, and it took every bit of self-control I had not to say, “awwwww!”
“Tired,” he told her with a reassuring smile. “But fine.”
“I think those doctors are charlatans,” she grumbled. “They should have kept you in the hospital in New York.”
I felt the same way. It was nice to have someone on my side.
Neil straightened and turned, gesturing me over. “Mother, this is Sophie.”
“Oh?” She looked to me with as polite a frown as I’ve ever seen, trying to puzzle me out. “Are you a friend of Emma’s, then?”
Valerie snickered. My opinion of her was not improving at all.
“No, mother, she’s my girlfriend. We spoke about her on the telephone.” Neil wrapped his arm around my waist. “She’s here from New York to stay with me while I go through treatment.”
“Hello, Mrs. Elwood,” I said, extending my hand.
She shook it and smiled pleasantly up at me. “Very nice to meet you, Sophie. You came all the way from New York?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t ma’am me, I’m not the queen,” she laughed. “Call me Rose.”
“Okay, Rose,” I said, and when I looked to Neil, he seemed pleased.
He gave me an encouraging smile and turned back to his mom. “Where’s Fiona?”
“She should be right behind me,” Rose said, using a little joystick to maneuver her chair closer to the seating area. “She let me out by the door. I’m sure she’s struggling to park that ridiculous new van. Emma, come see your old gran.”
“I’m just going to go check on her,” Neil told me, dropping a kiss on my forehead.
“Go on,” I told him with a laugh. “I don’t think they’ll eat me.”
But then I saw Valerie, a little round cup of punch cradled in her hand, headed straight toward me. “So, Sophie. Emma said you and Neil reconnected through work?”
“Yeah, I worked for Porteras.” Did she not know this? Neil said Rudy had told her all about our relationship and my dismissal. I’d been fired from the company for conspiring with a rival publication. It didn’t seem like any of this should be news.
The Girlfriend (The Boss) Page 10
