“It would be unlikely, under the current circumstances.” He spread his hands and let them fall to the blotter. “There would have to be child abuse or endangerment involved. The State didn’t find any, so…”
Neil took a deep breath. “Excellent.”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t try,” the lawyer was quick to warn. “And things become more complicated if there’s a third party. You might want to consider putting your wishes for Olivia in your will.”
“If something...happened. To Sophie and me,” Neil began haltingly. “What are El-Mudad’s rights?”
Andrew didn’t even take a blink to consider. “He would have none.”
We didn’t breathe in that horrible moment of realization. One that should have come to us much sooner. In our idyllic world, sheltered from so many real, human truths, we’d never considered the worst-case scenario.
“So, if we died, El-Mudad might never see Olivia again.” My mouth went dry and metallic.
“That would be up to her legal guardians, who would very likely be her other grandparents unless you’ve taken precautions to secure his guardianship,” Andrew confirmed. “Even then, they might drag you into court, El-Mudad.”
Neil scrubbed a hand over his mouth. I could almost see his brain doing frantic computations behind his eyes. “What can we do?”
Andrew pulled something out of the folder and passed it across the desk to Neil. It was a magazine clipping with the words “polyamorous” and “precedent” in the headline. I could barely hear the lawyer’s words over my sudden tinnitus. “In the state of New York, a judge can appoint more than two legal guardians for a child. El-Mudad, if you wanted to, you could adopt Olivia.”
“Adopt?” Neil repeated the word as if he’d never heard it before.
“I’m not a citizen,” El-Mudad clarified. “I’m not sure I can adopt here legally.”
“It’s tricky, but it can be done. Money moves mountains. I don’t have to tell you that. The issue with adoption is that they could challenge your petition. And from what I understand of the situation, they almost certainly will?” Andrew glanced to Neil for confirmation, which he received in the form of a short nod. “The good news is that the onus would be on them to prove that you’re unfit. A closed investigation is going to pit their word against the State’s.”
The word of an abused woman and her abuser.
I chewed the inside of my cheek as I debated whether or not I should tell them now. It would be pertinent information. I had to tell them. But here, in front of a stranger who was all business? Who might see that predicament as some kind of gain?
That wouldn’t be fair to her.
“One thing you need to understand is that down the road, should this relationship dissolve…” the attorney spread his hands.
“I believe I understand what you’re insinuating.” Neil leaned slightly forward. “In the unlikely event that one of us should leave the relationship, we would revise custody arrangements at that time. None of us would ever lose access to Olivia and her well-being is always our priority.”
“Then I’d say this would be a viable option for the three of you. Take a few days to think it over. Remember, right now, you have no legal obligation to continue visitation.” He offered us a business card, which El-Mudad pocketed. “If you have any questions or if social workers or the police contact you, call that number. That’s my private line, twenty-four hours.”
Neil half-smiled and tilted his head. “And what is the retainer for this concierge-level service?”
El-Mudad and I made eye contact, silently passing judgment on the appropriateness of Neil’s flirting.
Andrew laughed and...blushed? “What’s that old saying? If you have to ask, you probably can’t afford it?”
Neil grinned. “I assure you, I can afford it.”
El-Mudad scoffed softly and tried to pass it off as a cough.
“And if you couldn’t, El-Mudad could,” I said sweetly. “He has a lot more money than you do.”
“Perhaps we should set up a joint account,” El-Mudad said dryly.
Chastened, Neil rose and shook Andrew’s hand in the most professional manner possible. “Thank you. My financial manager will be in contact by the end of the business day.”
“I look forward to getting all of this cleared up for the three of you,” Andrew assured us as he held the door.
We were silent until we got into the elevator, and the doors closed, when Neil said, “Did anyone else think he might have fancied me?”
“Don’t,” El-Mudad warned.
Chapter Eight
The ride back to the penthouse was the most prolonged, intense silence I’d ever experienced in my life.
El-Mudad could adopt Olivia.
He could be her father.
Michael is her father! Rekindled grief howled at me. But Michael was dead. Michael wasn’t an option. And the answer seemed so simple.
And so complicated. Laurence and Valerie would likely make the already pretty grueling process way, way worse. Sure, Valerie and Laurence would bear the burden of proof that we were unfit guardians and our state had been one of the first to recognize polyamorous custody rights, but we had no guarantee that we would find a sympathetic judge. Our goal wasn’t to keep Olivia away from Valerie. We just didn’t want to lose her entirely.
Neil and El-Mudad sat beside each other, across from me in the back of our Mercedes-Maybach Pullman, the name of which I could only remember because it certainly felt like the size of a railroad car. They faced away from each other, staring out their respective windows.
We pulled up in front of the penthouse and staggered out as if we’d been on a long road trip, rather than a twenty-five-minute drive downtown. I clutched my purse like a life preserver up the elevator and into the apartment.
The Fifth Avenue penthouse was a leftover from Neil’s first marriage. He’d moved into it and decorated it with Elizabeth, lived there with her and sometimes Emma, gotten divorced, then started dating me. Some of my happiest times had been in the apartment. Some really, really bad times had been there, too.
I couldn’t tell which one this would be.
“Where are the girls?” Neil asked as we slipped off our jackets and hung them in the closet.
“Holli was taking them to a matinee of Beetlejuice: The Musical.”
I didn’t mention that it would be my best friend’s twenty-third time seeing it.
And I didn’t mention that fact precisely because of the horrified face Neil made at the thought of a single viewing.
“Amal texted me when we were in the car. They’re still with Holli but they’ll be back, soon. We should take the opportunity to discuss this now,” El-Mudad said. “While we have some time.”
“I need coffee,” Neil announced. “Excuse me, please.”
El-Mudad and I watched him leave.
“So much for talking about it,” I said under my breath.
“He’s handling all of this far better than I expected.” El-Mudad rubbed my shoulders as he steered me toward the living room.
“Yeah. In an extremely rational, not-manic way, too. Flirting with the family law attorney, for example.” I rolled my eyes.
“Better flirting than shouting and ordering everyone around in a desperate bid for control.”
Leave it to him to find a bright side. “That’s true. Maybe I’m a bad person for thinking this, but I kind of like seeing him in a crisis and being able to handle it.” I went to one of the armchairs that faced the ocean view. El-Mudad sat in the one beside me.
“I don’t think that makes you a bad person,” he said gently. “I think it means you’re glad he’s made so much progress.”
“Yeah, but in my head, I’m like, ‘Oh, I’m so happy the old Neil is back.’”
El-Mudad sighed. “You’ll always find a way to make yourself the villain, won’t you?”
My mouth fell open. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “You h
ave a lot of guilt. You joke about your Catholic guilt—”
“That’s not a joke,” I interjected.
“But you do burden yourself with guilt for things most people wouldn’t think twice about—fleeting thoughts or clumsy emotions that are difficult to put into words. You don’t give yourself any room to fail. Even in your mind.” His mouth bent into a tight-lipped smile of resignation mingled with pity for me. I might have felt condescended to if I didn’t know that his sympathy was rooted in love.
“This is just going to be so difficult for him.” I couldn’t imagine what was going on in his mind. I would have to, as it was my only option. “Do you think he’s freaked out in a bad way?”
“Olivia is the most important thing in his life,” El-Mudad said with a shrug. It wasn’t an answer, but I knew that neither of us would find one, no matter how much we talked around it.
“Let’s go with him,” I suggested, and El-Mudad nodded. That was another benefit of being in a polyamorous relationship; we could workshop how to handle each other’s moods.
I worried that we’d find Neil gazing out the window introspectively or something else grim, but he really was making coffee.
“Oh.” I stopped abruptly and El-Mudad almost mowed me down.
“Did I startle you?” Neil asked, his brow creasing in a confused frown. “I told you where I would be.”
“I know,” I admitted sheepishly. “I’m just a little jumpy today.”
“Did you come in here to avoid talking about what happened at the lawyer’s office?” El-Mudad asked bluntly.
Neil looked positively shocked by such an accusation. “Where would you get an idea like that?”
“From being your boyfriend,” El-Mudad said with a shrug.
Neil pushed a few buttons on the coffee maker and grumbled, “Fair enough.”
I glanced over at the breakfast nook, where photos of Emma used to decorate the wall. Neil hadn’t erased her from our lives, but many of the casual reminders from when she’d been alive were packed away out of grief and desperate love.
At what point would the wound of her death stop opening?
“You two needn’t worry about me so much,” Neil began, weary. “I’m not going to fall apart over this or go into some fantastic case of denial. This is simply paperwork. Do you forget what my job used to be?”
“What your job is,” I corrected him. “You say you’re retired, but you still spend an awful lot of time working on Elwood and Stern.”
“And the foundation,” El-Mudad put in.
Neil sighed in frustration. “Yes. I’m very good at high level management and organization. Analyzing cost and risk and legal moves to protect assets and gain the best possible outcomes for my company. So why on earth would you think I couldn’t do that for my own family?”
“It isn’t that we didn’t think you could do it,” I began. “It’s just...this is Olivia. There are emotions involved.”
“Of course, there are,” Neil agreed. “There’s guilt, certainly. Michael is Emma’s father. What place will his memory have in her life if El-Mudad becomes her father, as well?”
“That was my concern,” El-Mudad said. “You must know that I would never try to take the place of Michael.”
“I’d love it if you would,” Neil said. It shocked me so much that I physically jolted. Neil gave me a puzzled look. “I’m serious. We could never erase the memory of him. Michael was a wonderful father to Olivia. But he simply can’t fulfill that role anymore. El-Mudad, you’ve done a wonderful job raising your girls. Why wouldn’t I want the same parenting for Olivia?”
None of us spoke. The question was rhetorical, but silence felt like an answer.
“Only if you’d want to, of course,” Neil added, glancing to El-Mudad. “My feelings aren’t the only ones involved here; you might have your own—”
“It would be an honor,” El-Mudad interrupted him without hesitation. “When the girls and I moved in with you two, the plan was to blend our families. To make something that worked for the three of us, not according to some traditional model. I had already planned on being a father to Olivia. I love every day of it. To have it made legal would put my heart at ease.”
Visibly choked up, Neil nodded. He cleared his throat and said, “Mine, too.”
“And since we can’t get married, why not let this be our legal bond?” I suggested. “It would tie us together forever, right?”
“It would,” Neil agreed. “This is a far bigger step than marriage. No offense, Sophie.”
“None taken.” This involved the lives of more than just two people who could get broken hearts later. “I might not be a mom, but I did have a mom. Kids come first. If they hadn’t, I’d have had a shitty childhood.”
Plus, I was a big fan of kids having dads. From that angle, the idea of El-Mudad adopting Olivia appeased the weird daddy hunger I still felt, the one that couldn’t be worked out with paddles and gags and older gentlemen.
"But what about Olivia?" I asked. "Don't we need to find out what she thinks? And what about Rashida and Amal? Are they going to feel slighted? Jealous? Because we can't be their legal guardians in return."
Neil made a thoughtful noise and crossed his arms, one hand coming up to scrub over his chin. "Olivia is four. How do we approach this with her?"
"And how do we prepare her for this? She still doesn't know that she's not going to be seeing her grandmother regularly now." If I'd ever doubted that El-Mudad would be a good father to Olivia, the pain in his eyes as he spoke those words would have dispelled them. I wasn't a parent; I had no idea how to break the bad news to a child, especially one so young. Olivia could barely understand that she wouldn't get sucked down the potty. Now, we had to find a way to tell her, yeah, sorry about this, but you can't ever see your grandmother again?
"We could lie. Say that she was away on business? That she had to go back to London for a while?" he suggested. "Just until this gets worked out?"
“That does seem to be our best option. She knows about people going away for business reasons.” Neil’s gaze flicked guiltily away.
“This isn’t the same thing as when Emma was little.” I knew how much it hurt him to remember the long weeks he’d spent away from his daughter during her childhood, especially now that she was gone. “Olivia won’t resent Valerie—”
Neil stopped me. “Sophie, I couldn’t possibly care less about how this will affect Olivia’s perception of Valerie. I find I can’t care about Valerie at all.”
El-Mudad made a noise of agreement.
But they didn’t know what I did. And it was time to tell them. “Neil, aside from Emma, you were the most important person to Valerie for years. Think of all the energy she used to put in to keep you from making mistakes. It was wrong of her to do that, but it was always because she cared about you. In a fucked-up way, but she cared. Doesn’t this total change surprise you?”
That gave him pause. Cautiously, he asked, “What are you suggesting?”
I wasn’t sure how to phrase it. I floundered for a way to make it sound less horrible. “I think Laurence might be controlling her.”
There was no reason to mince words.
I started over. “I think Laurence is abusing her.”
El-Mudad’s jaw dropped. Neil looked as though he were going to be sick.
“I-I can’t believe that.” He blinked rapidly. “Valerie isn’t the type of woman who would stand for that.”
Every hair on my body bristled. “There isn’t a type, Neil. It’s not like some women are abused because of who they are or how they act, and others are immune.”
Both Neil and El-Mudad just stared at me with increasingly uncomfortable expressions.
I closed my eyes and refrained from rubbing my temples in annoyance as I tried to figure out where to start on abuse 101. “Valerie was in a super vulnerable place when she met Laurence. She’d just lost you, Neil. I know that she lost you a long time ago, but when you and I got married, that shut the fil
e forever. There wasn’t another chance. And she may have overlooked a lot of red flags because she wanted to be happy. She wanted things to work out.”
“Go on.” Neil’s voice was hoarse.
“Then Emma died. Imagine how much she relied on him. Imagine how easy it must have been to assume control of everything.” I gave them a moment to mull that over before adding, “Maybe the change in Valerie’s personality didn’t have as much to do with Emma’s death as it had to do with Laurence’s influence.”
“And now she’s in too deep to do anything about it,” El-Mudad finished for me, horror dawning on his features. “Neil...Sophie might be right.”
I could tell that Neil didn’t want to believe it. He would rather stay angry with Valerie. It would be easier to hurt her if she was the villain.
“So, what do we do?” he asked softly.
“I think we carry on with the plan to limit visitations to supervision only.” That was an ugly necessity. “But I also think we need more information. I don’t want to make accusations or anything if there’s nothing to rescue her from.”
“You’re rescuing Valerie now?” Neil asked with grim amusement.
I rolled my eyes. “Poor choice of words. But you know what I mean. If something is going on, we have to be super delicate about it because it could endanger her if anything gets back to him. But if there’s nothing…”
“Then we’ve complicated the situation further for no reason at all,” El-Mudad said with a frustrated noise. “Do you know anyone who could tell you—”
“Rudy,” Neil said without hesitation. “I can speak to Rudy.”
“No. Wait.” There was too much history of Neil and Valerie being at each other’s throats or meddling in each other’s lives. Rudy wouldn’t tell him anything if it meant getting involved in drama between them. He was the demilitarized zone of their friend triangle. “Let me talk to him.”
Neil opened his mouth to refute me.
I didn’t give him a chance. “I have distance from the decades of fucked up you all have gone through together. If you go to him, it’s going to look like you’re trying to dig up dirt on Valerie and Laurence. If I go—”
Sophie (The Boss Book 8) Page 14