“Name one. Right now, I have alienated literally every other friend I had when I fucked off to London and stopped calling them.” My laugh was like acid reflux. “That’s how great I am about multitasking caring for people. How can you even stand to be around me?”
Neil stood and came to kneel on the carpet in front of me, shirtless, still in his suit trousers and shoes. He took my hands. “You know, and I know, that this is self-pity. But I want some part of your grief-addled brain to hear me: nothing you are saying about yourself is true.”
“I don’t know anyone who isn’t directly connected to you,” I argued. “And before that, I didn’t have that many friends, either. I mean, there’s the circle of friends you see at every party you’re invited to. But no friends I could call up in the middle of the night with a broken heart. Nobody I can make last minute plans with, or rely on to make me feel better when I’m feeling like…like this. Besides you,” I added quickly.
“You needn’t do that. I’m secure enough in our relationship that I don’t have to be all things to you at all times.”
That made me laugh, but only a little. Then, the tears started flowing again. “What if this is it? What if I don’t make any more friends? For the rest of my life, it’s just me and you and Emma and I become that weird lady from our building?”
“Mrs. Smoot-Hawley?”
“That’s not the point!” I dropped my head to my hands. “Neil, what if I’m incapable of maintaining a relationship with anybody?”
It hurt so much when I said it…it felt like a real fear, not something I’d constructed to feel sorry for myself about.
What if I really couldn’t maintain a relationship with anyone?
“Holli said…” My mouth felt dry. “Holli said that I’d dropped everyone to be with you. When I came to New York, I dropped Jessa.”
“And Jessa is a friend from home, I presume?”
I nodded miserably. “I haven’t spoken to her in years. I just went home and I didn’t even bother to introduce you to her. She was the most important person in my life for years, and now, she’s just someone whose updates I roll my eyes at on Facebook. I can’t stand the fact that this is how it’s going to turn out with Holli, too.”
“Darling, it’s far more common to lose touch with your friends from secondary school than it is to keep them—”
“But I can’t seem to keep anybody!” The giant, festering pimple that was my current emotional state had reached an ugly, sore head. I didn’t want to be talked out of hating myself. Fresh tears blurred my eyes, and my chest seemed to cave inward under the force of my pain. “What if the same thing happens with you? What if, in a couple of years, you realize how fucking awful I am? Or I just… I don’t know. I get bored and wander away?”
He reached up and brushed my hair back from my face. “I can’t imagine that happening to us. But I couldn’t imagine it happening to Elizabeth and me, either. You and I are both taking a rather large leap of faith with each other. But there is no reason to believe that you’re going to go through your life wantonly abandoning the people you love.”
I scooted away and stood, going to the nightstand for a tissue. I wiped my eyes, though I wasn’t done crying. I probably wouldn’t be for a very long time. “You know…it shouldn’t surprise me. I keep everybody at arms’ length. I don’t open up. I’ve heard this a thousand times before. I’m just fucking like him.”
“Like who?” The bewildered pain on Neil’s face when I looked back hurt me to my core. He didn’t want me to feel the way I felt right now, but he was helpless to stop it. I’d spent the last year hiding my fears and problems from him, and now, I was finally unable to hold them back.
The dam broke, and the words shot out of my mouth like a t-shirt cannon loaded with daddy issues. “My father!”
Neil looked like someone has slapped him. No, he looked like someone had slapped me. “You can’t really believe that about yourself.”
“Why not?” I demanded. “He makes up half my DNA. Why wouldn’t I be like him?”
“Why would you?” Neil was just as adamant. “That man walked out of your life. He walked away from his daughter. If that’s the type of person he is, then the best thing he could have done for you was walk away. But his choice, his selfish, stupid choice doesn’t reflect on you, Sophie.”
“It doesn’t reflect on me? I do the same thing with everyone I know! Before we went home for Christmas, I hadn’t seen my family in for fucking ever! And these are the people I’m supposed to love. And when you were in the hospital, when things were really, really bad, I thought…”
I couldn’t say it. It was too horrible to admit to him.
His beautiful, sad eyes shone with unshed tears, and I hated myself for even opening that can-of-worms. “You’re not going to hurt me, Sophie. Please, finish your thought.”
I was going to hurt him. “I thought about leaving. About just walking away from you.”
He didn’t say anything.
“There is something broken in me, Neil! I can’t find it to fix it, but it’s there, and I know that everyone can see it. They can see the broken thing in me, and they know…” I sobbed so hard my chest hurt. My nose and eyes ran, but I didn’t wipe my face now. I was paralyzed by the pain of my own admission. “They know I can’t be loved. Not even by my own fucking parent.”
He moved fast, wrapping me in his strong arms, crushing me against him tightly, as though he could squeeze the sadness out of me.
“No,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “There is nothing broken in you, Sophie. And certainly nothing that makes you unlovable.”
“I’m a horrible person,” I sobbed against his chest.
His big hand cradled the back of my head. “You are not a horrible person. You did something incredibly difficult, taking on my life when I was at my lowest. You may have thought about leaving, but you didn’t. That’s what makes you different. That’s what makes you not like him at all.”
“But I ruined Holli’s life.” I sniffled. “You said Deja would never work in New York again. They’re totally fucked. They’re getting married.”
“It wasn’t my finest moment,” he admitted. “I was hurt. I like Deja, and I like Holli. I felt rather personally betrayed, and I lashed out. But I have no intention to pursue any kind of retribution.”
“Great. So Holli hates me for no reason.” I looked up at him. “Well. Almost no reason. I still ruined her life.”
“Deja lost her job because she endangered it. Not you.” He brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “If you had come home, and you hadn’t told me, how would you feel right now?”
I shrugged. “I would feel normal. Keeping important stuff from the people I love is pretty much normal for me.”
“And when it all came to light, when your guilt was too much to bear and you told me… How would you feel then?”
“I would feel…pretty much exactly like I do now.” Damn. I hated when his logic and reason gave me a reason not to hate myself. “But worse, because I kept it from you for so long.”
“You were put in a situation where you were damned no matter what. And that isn’t fair, but as I’m sure you are already aware, life is very rarely fair.” He stepped back. “Let me go get you a cold cloth for your face. Otherwise, you’ll complain all night about your puffy eyes.”
His gentle teasing made me laugh despite the sadness I still felt. As he left the room, I dropped onto the end of the bed. I was worn out and achy. There was a marked difference between a good cry, the kind you cry to relieve emotional pressure, and this kind of cry. This kind just condensed the pressure, made it heavier and sharper in my chest and behind my forehead, and worst of all, made room for more.
Neil came back and dropped a cool washcloth into my hands.
I pressed it gratefully to my hot eyes. “Thank you.”
“I hesitate to suggest it, because I fear it might bring on a wave of fresh tears,” he began. “But I know that when you’re
upset, you turn to Holli, and the comfort of those horrible low-brow comedies you two inexplicably enjoy.”
A laugh burbled up my throat.
He went on. “I know I make a poor substitute, but if you would allow me to interview for the position—”
“Yes, I will watch stupid movies with you,” I agreed, and for a moment, I felt some of my sadness lift. Not too far off the ground, though. “Hey. In the interest of honesty… I am still really bothered that you told Deja she wasn’t going to work in New York again. I know what that feels like. It doesn’t feel good.”
He winced. “Yes, I know. I won’t actively try to block future employment. I’ll give her a decent enough reference, something about her position not fitting into the restructure. Vague enough that I don’t have to lie, nor condemn her.”
“Good.” I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Good.”
A silent moment passed between us, him studying my face with an expression I couldn’t quite discern. Then he said, “I didn’t realize the loss of your job still affects you so much. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I guess until I saw it happen to someone else…” There was really nothing left to say.
He looked properly ashamed. “I thought that since you had your book deal—”
“It’s a memoir. If I had been a creative writing major, maybe I could be happy just writing memoir after memoir. But let’s face it, the only reason anyone is interested in my life is because I’m with you.” I’d accepted that from the moment the manuscript had gone to auction. “This wasn’t how I imagined my career. I wanted to work in fashion. I invested so much of my time… Baby, I took a dog to a yoga class for pets, all so someday, I would have a good job at a top magazine.
“I worked so hard, and it’s all gone. And I can’t help but see the parallels between my situation and Deja’s. The only difference is: Deja doesn’t have a billionaire to come home to. She has a model. And Holli is one of the hardest working models I know, but that’s not a lot of money. You know that, you’ve seen Porteras’s fashion budget.”
“I have.” He took a deep breath and braced his hands on his knees. “I had no idea how much this bothered you. I am…deeply sorry.”
“Well, it’s not entirely your fault. I did screw up. And I screwed things up with Gabriella Winters. That alone should guarantee that my job prospects in the industry will be few.” I managed a tremulous smile. “But I did right, turning her down. I don’t want anyone to own me. And I didn’t want to lose you.”
He had an epiphany. I could see it on his face. Slowly, he raised his hand, one index finger pointed at the middle distance. “Wait right here.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, but the only response I got was “Wait there.”
When he returned, he held a checkbook and a fountain pen. Sitting beside me on the end of the bed, he uncapped the pen and started writing. “When I launched Auto Watch in 1989, I did it with a loan of two-hundred and fifty-thousand pounds. My father was the sole investor. Now, I can’t be an investor. It would be a conflict of interest. But I can write you a check…”
My eyes widened, and I slowly dragged the cool cloth from my forehead.
“…From my personal…account.” He finished his signature with a flourish and tore the check free. “That’s not an investment. It’s not a loan. I’m giving you the capitol to start up, but I have no other connection to it.”
I took the crisp slip of paper from him. Half a million dollars.
“It’s a modest budget, but if I could do it with two hundred and fifty thousand, you can get by.”
“Do what?” I had no idea what was going on. For a split second, I wondered if he’d just written me a check to get out of an argument. “What are you talking about?”
“You said you abandoned your career. That’s not true. You were fired, and things were in the air for you. But that doesn’t mean you’ve left your passion behind you entirely.” He nodded at the note in my hand. “If you can’t get a job at a magazine, then get a magazine.”
“You mean…”
He blinked slowly, the hint of smile curling the edges of his mouth. “I mean, start your own magazine.”
For a weird moment, I saw myself doing just that. Sitting behind a big desk, making people get my coffee and generally terrorizing the masses. But then I remembered something crucial: “I have no idea how to start a magazine.”
“Oh, really? That’s a shame,” he bluffed smoothly. “If only there were someone you could go to for advice…”
“Oh, so you’re going to do the same thing you fired me and Deja for? You’re going to supply information to a rival company?” I pushed the check back at him.
He wouldn’t take it. “I said I would give you advice. I’m not going to talk to you about Porteras business. If you need me to give you advice, I’m here for you. But I’m not going to damage my own interests doing so.”
Neil said nothing as I laid the check between us. Then his gaze flicked up to my face and he said, “The choice is up to you. But if you were unable to have your dream job at Porteras, please consider building a new dream for yourself. I will be there for you every step of the way, if you want me there. I won’t walk away from you, Sophie. I’ve waited too damn long to be with you, and we’ve gone through too much together.”
I looked at the dollar signs and zeroes lying on the bed. “This isn’t your way of buying me out of my sadness?”
“No, Sophie, it isn’t. It’s me telling you that it’s all right to use our money for a fresh start.”
“If I take it… I’m just doing what Holli accused me of doing.” I remembered the way I’d bought a fucking hundred-thousand dollar purse right in front of her, like it was nothing. I was so ashamed. I hadn’t even told Neil about it yet.
I ripped up the check.
He grinned at me. “I had a feeling you would do that.”
“Well, one of these days, I’m going to surprise you. I’m not sure how yet, but I will.”
He put an arm around me and hugged me close. “Of that, darling, I have no doubt.”
* * * *
Two nights later, Neil came home from the office and started shouting for me from the front door. I’d been in the library filling out an interview for a blog—I’d naively assumed interviews were conducted over the phone—about my upcoming book. I shot to my feet; Neil rarely yelled if we weren’t in the middle of a heated argument, and I didn’t remember starting one today. Had something bad happened? I was absolutely sure I couldn’t take any more stress this week.
I dashed into the foyer, and he dropped his black leather messenger bag to catch me up in his arms and spin me around.
“Whoa!” I giggled, dizzy, and put my hands on his shoulders to slightly disentangle myself. “What’s gotten into you?”
“They accepted the offer. It’s ours.”
It took me a moment, but the wide grin on his face and the gleam of joy in his eyes clued me in. “The house?”
“Five million less than the asking price, and we can take possession at closing.” He leaned down for a kiss, and I obliged him, but his words stopped me.
“Wait, possession at closing… When will that be?” I was going to be very quickly plunged into a whirlwind of publicity for my book. It would be masochistic to try and manage a big move at the same time.
“I have to withdraw from one of my investment accounts to cover the purchase. I don’t have that type of money lying about easily accessible. It should take between ten and fourteen days for the transfer to clear, and then we’ll sign.”
It would never stop being a source of wonder to me that Neil routinely talked about moving eight figures from account to account. I was pretty sure my private savings account only held the five dollars required to keep it open.
“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” I shook my head. “Neil. We’re getting a house.”
“Oh, yes, we are.”
“We’re becoming like, a family.”
His expression softened into the disarming half-smile I loved, and he dipped his head to meet my upturned mouth. I parted my lips under his, my tongue darting out to taste him as I gripped the front of his coat and rose on my tiptoes to get a better angle. When I was breathless and whimpering, he pulled back. “We’re already family, Sophie.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him down for another kiss.
“Wait, wait.” He laughed, pulling back. “I haven’t even taken my coat off yet.”
“Well, take it off,” I ordered playfully. “Something about a guy buying me a seventy-eight-million dollar house is an incredible turn on.”
“I didn’t buy it just for you,” he reminded me, pulling his gloves off and shrugging out of his coat. He tossed both on the large round table in the center of the foyer. “I expect to live there, myself, if that’s all right.”
I sighed, a hand pressed to my chest in mock offense. “Well, if you must.”
Following him into the bedroom, I leaned against the door frame. “You know, Sue isn’t here right now.”
“Isn’t she?” Je frowned and tossed his jacket over the sofa in front of the fireplace. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She said she needed the evening off, so I gave it to her. It’s not like we can’t fend for ourselves.” I chewed my lip. “In fact…how would you feel if we didn’t have a housekeeper once we move?”
“How do you feel about vacuuming thirty-five-thousand square feet?” He grinned at me and sat on the couch to take off his shoes.
“Why would I be doing the vacuuming?” I shot back. “You’re the one who’s going to be retired. You’ll be free to do all the housecleaning for me.”
“Forgive me, for this will seem unbearably posh, but I’ve never used a vacuum cleaner in my life.”
Okay, throwing around huge sums of money, I had gotten somewhat used to that. The fact that he’d met the Queen of freaking England, and there was a photo of said meeting framed and hanging in the hallway? I could cope. But these small, everyday things he had no acquaintance with still freaked me out.
The Bride (The Boss) Page 21
