“It will seem like you care about her since you care so little for Rudy’s company,” Neil said wryly.
“I wasn’t going to put it that way.” It wasn’t like I hated Rudy or something. He just always made me feel like I was on trial. “But also, I don’t have a long and weird history with Valerie. And I’m not Rudy’s friend. He might feel less caught in the middle if he tells me instead of you. And that’s a big if.”
"It's not a situation that will be easily resolved, Sophie," El-Mudad said gently.
He was right. Some women never left their abusers. Even when they did, it wasn't always safe. And so far, we had no evidence that Valerie was interested in going. Or even if my suspicions were correct.
"There's another problem here, one that I would rather not think about," Neil admitted.
I thought I knew what it was. "That this is going to be dangerous for Valerie?"
"No." He shook his head and wouldn't meet our eyes. "Please understand...it isn't that I'm not concerned for Valerie. But compared to my concern for Olivia...Valerie can be your priority in this if you like, Sophie. But she is certainly not mine."
My heart clenched. This wasn't like him at all. Not where Valerie was concerned. Their friendship was toxic and co-dependent, and I certainly didn't want to encourage that dynamic, but Neil's coldness took my breath away. This was what I'd always wanted, wasn't it? To hear Neil say he didn't care about her?
"Valerie isn't my priority," I said, my throat sticking closed. "Obviously, I'm putting Olivia first here. Helping Valerie get away from Laurence isn't just for her. It's for Olivia, too."
El-Mudad nodded. "Sophie's making a good point. If we choose to go ahead with this adoption, they'll be able to argue against us in court. If Valerie is still with Laurence...if something happens to endanger our custody...”
"We don't want her to end up living with a violent man." Neil looked as though he might be sick.
I went to him and put my hand on his arm, the other on his shoulder, forcing him to meet my eyes. "This is going to be fine. Maybe you're right. Maybe Valerie should be my priority. It will leave you free to worry about Olivia. We just need to take this one step at a time.”
Then, Neil said the two words in the English language that he found hardest to say: "I'm frightened."
"I know you are." I was frightened, too. Frightened that we'd been selfish, thinking we could force everyone to be positive and accepting of our unconventional family. Scared that Valerie and Laurence were right, that we were screwing up Olivia. "I've been afraid from the moment we brought Olivia home with us and terrified that I'm not doing what's right for her. Afraid that my not wanting to be a mom, that opting out of being a mom was somehow hurting these girls. This is the hardest thing in my life that I've ever done, and you know we've been through some terrible stuff. But we don't have to have all of this settled and figured out today. We don't even have to have it figured out a week from now. It's going to be one long, frustrating, hellish march from here to what we ultimately want. But we've done that before. And we can do it again."
"And now, there's an extra brain to take on a third of the stress," El-Mudad said with a soft laugh.
I turned to him and tried to smile, but the expression just couldn't make it through. "You were included in that 'we'."
Neil took a deep breath of resolve, drew up his sagging shoulders, and said, "Every long march begins with a single step, isn’t that it?"
"Let's not call it a 'long march,'" El-Mudad corrected him. "This is a journey. Our destination is...somewhere better than we are now."
"So, how do we push this boat into the water?" I was not going to captain this particular ship.
"I suppose we ask Olivia and Rashida and Amal what they think. But perhaps it should wait until our guest has gone?" Neil suggested.
. "I kinda forgot we had a Molly in the equation right now. Does that make me a bad sister?"
"It makes you an adult who's overwhelmed with your afternoon. Let's not make this all about Sophie’s deficiencies," Neil chided.
Chastened, I said, "Well, I'm not sure Molly is going to want to be witness to this particular conversation about someone getting a brand-new dad. Not when she lost her father at a young age. We need somewhere that's neutral ground, where we can talk to the girls in a different atmosphere.”
"Quite right," Neil agreed. "Sophie, you could spend some one-on-one time with Molly while El-Mudad and I speak to Rashida and Amal. I think we should discuss this with Olivia last. If things don't work out..."
“Let’s take a trip,” El-Mudad suggested, entirely out of the ether. “Tomorrow. We’ll go to Belize and stay on the yacht.”
“Tomorrow? I mean, as someone who habitually runs from her problems, I’m impressed. But it’s not practical. We can’t leave Molly behind. There’s no way to get her a passport overnight,” I pointed out.
“Does Molly have a passport?” Neil asked.
El-Mudad took out his phone.
“What are you doing?” Had they both lost their minds?
Ignoring me, El-Mudad asked into the phone, “Ask Molly if she has a passport.”
He’d called one of the girls to check?
“It doesn’t matter why. Just ask her.”
As he paused for the answer, Neil put his hand on my arm. “We don’t know when Valerie and Laurence are going to make a move. Once we begin adoption proceedings—if we do—and after a case is opened, taking Olivia on a vacation is going to be a time-consuming legal hassle. Why don’t we take the opportunity now?”
“If we leave before they find out, they won’t have time to file anything against us,” I said with a sigh. “I understand that. But everything is so overwhelming. I’m not going anywhere tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere until I talk to Rudy. That’s more important.”
“It’s not overwhelming,” El-Mudad protested because he was way more used to spontaneous luxury travel than I was. “My friend has a private island near Cuba that I’m sure we can use. You meet Rudy for lunch this weekend, and we’ll leave after that. We could meet the boat in Belize, sail for the island, enjoy a few days on the beach, then dock in Miami and fly home.”
“Let us take care of it,” Neil said, squeezing my shoulder. “All you need to do is show up.”
The lure of soft sand and crystal-clear water led my brain straight into a trap I couldn’t escape. Were we wrapping ourselves in the denial of a fun excursion rather than face the horrible metaphorical journey ahead of us? Or were we making a healthy choice, giving ourselves some time to relax before the terribly difficult emotional trials to come?
That made up my mind. “Okay. Maybe this is something we need. But let’s not get too excited until we know Molly can go.”
“Molly says she does have a passport,” El-Mudad said, slipping his phone into his pocket. “From a Spanish club trip she ultimately didn’t get to go on. The circumstances were...difficult to follow at the speed with which they were explained.”
“I guess I’ll call Sasha and make sure it’s okay,” I said.
“No, I’ll call her,” Neil said. “I told you, there’s nothing you have to do but show up.”
I screwed up my mouth for a moment. “Hello, woman whom I’ve met one time. Can I take your underaged daughter out of the country?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. “You have a point.”
“I’ll call her. And see if she can overnight the passport.”
The Elwood-Scaife-Atis were going on vacation.
I met Rudy for lunch at Le Bernardin, a French restaurant I didn’t particularly care for due to its small portion sizes and the overall decor that reminded me of a fancy hospital cafeteria. I ordered some pricey caviar for my first course, and Rudy raised one immaculate eyebrow.
Of all the people in Neil’s life, his two closest friends were the ones most difficult for me to figure out. I never really knew where I stood with Valerie—until recently, at least—and I’d yet to discern whether or not Rud
y actually liked me or just tolerated me. Some days, I thought he might like me but simply have a very low tolerance for everyone. Other times, he seemed to suffer the worst torment in my company.
I kept my face neutral as the waiter walked away. “What? I like caviar.”
“You’re going into that phase,” Rudy mused, lifting his water glass to his slightly glossed lips. Sometimes, I thought Neil was the vainest man in New York. Rudy might have been tied with him; over the years, I’d heard all about the tucks and fillers to keep his face taut, the bizarre regimens and treatments he employed to keep his lovely brown skin luminous and wrinkle-free. Once, Neil told me that Rudy had prescription eyeglasses to match every one of his outfits and I’d almost choked.
There were small black diamonds at the corner of the ivory rims of the pair he sported today. I made a mental note to donate to some kind of ophthalmological charity as soon as I got to the car.
“What phase?” I asked, though inviting criticism from Rudy was like inviting a shark to lick your arm.
“The one where you start to forget where you come from. I recognize it.” He made no secret of his beginnings which, while not precisely impoverished, definitely hadn’t guaranteed him entree into the social circles he moved in now.
I snorted. “Yeah, I forget where I came from.” I thrust my hand out to show him my hot pink nails. “That’s Sally Hansen gel polish. From Target.”
His eyes narrowed. “I thought you were still grounded from Tar-jay.”
“Neil can’t tell me what to do. I’m a grown-up,” I grumbled, fully aware that I had fallen into a pout. So, I’d gone a little bonkers with seasonal décor one time. But everything had been so super cute. “He doesn’t appreciate Halloween the way I do.”
“No, he does not. The man has put on his own damn tux and gone as ‘James Bond’ to every fancy dress occasion I’ve been to with him.” Rudy sounded so disgusted I wondered if he’d even be able to eat his meal when it arrived.
The waiter stopped at our table briefly to drop off our drinks. I sipped my vodka and sugar-free cranberry to calm my nerves before I told Rudy. “So, you’re going to be mad at me.”
He pursed his lips. “I knew it. It’s either Valerie and Laurence, or Neil is drinking again.”
“What—”
“We’re not friends, Sophie,” Rudy said bluntly. “Don’t look wounded at me. I am immune to white lady tears. I’m only being honest. You never call me unless you need something. You’re my best friend’s wife. I love you. But you know we’re not mimosas-and-chit-chat to each other.”
“Mimosas are for brunch,” I said quietly.
“Mimosas are for any time, and I’m not telling you a damn thing about Valerie, so keep your devious mind to yourself,” he warned.
“I’m not looking for secrets, Rudy,” I promised, folding my hands on the tablecloth. “I’m worried about her. We know she was behind that CPS call. And I know that’s not something she would do.”
He shook his head. “No. She wasn’t behind the call. That was him.”
Having my suspicion confirmed didn’t make me feel any better. “Did she know about it?”
“She knows about it.”
That wasn’t much of an answer. Did she know about it after the fact? Did she participate in planning this?
“Are you not able to tell me more because you’re worried about her, too?”
Silence hung between us, fragile and tight.
“Rudy,” I said, quieter. “Rudy, I know something is going on.”
He considered for a long moment. I gave him all the time he needed.
His face took on a pained, conflicted cast. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen him, reducing him from a formidable opponent in a superficial verbal sparring match to an insecure, uncertain man. “I haven’t seen Valerie in person for over three months.”
“What?” I gasped loudly and instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry, it’s just...the two of you are attached at the hip usually.”
“If that hip isn’t hitched to Neil that particular day, yes,” Rudy said, trying for some humor. He gave up. “She calls me. Emails me. From her work email, of course. There’s ‘something wrong’ with hers.”
“Yeah, her privacy got broken.” This wasn’t my first experience with someone in an abusive relationship. And the fact that she’d been isolated from a friend as important to her as Rudy was enough of a red flag.
“I’m not supposed to call her,” he went on. “She calls me because she’s so busy. I used to hear from her every day. Now, there are no texts and no calls unless they’re from the office.”
“Have you ever seen Laurence get violent with her?” There was no delicate way to put it. “Have you seen bruises?”
“She had a lot of nasty falls when she was training for the marathon. Lost a lot of weight, too,” he noted.
“Do you think they were falls?”
“I think she had some help falling,” he said after a long moment.
“Rudy, why didn’t you tell us?” Maybe that sounded too blamey, considering the position he was in. “I mean, I know there’s been tension over the years, but Neil does care about Valerie. I care about her.”
“I didn’t say anything because you know how Neil is. He has to get involved. He has to fix things. And his bull-in-a-china-shop approach could—”
When Rudy cut himself off, cold dread froze me from the heart out. “You think Laurence is capable of…”
I couldn’t say the word. I could hardly stand to think of it.
Rudy nodded slowly as if fighting back emotion. “I think so.”
Clasping my hands atop the table, I leaned in closer. “I promise you, Neil is not going to do what he usually does. I won’t let him. El-Mudad won’t let him. But when did this all start? Laurence seemed so…”
“Charming? Nice?” Each word dripped with regret. “Protective? That’s what I liked about him. He worried about her. He took care of her. Nobody had taken care of her for, oh. Ever.”
“I’ve been running it over and over in my mind, and I can’t figure out where I was missing it. When did this start?” It wasn’t like a switch had just flipped. A regular guy didn’t become a master manipulator and abuser overnight.
Rudy gave me a sorrowful look and silence as a response.
“Emma.” I closed my eyes, and a hot tear rolled down my cheek.
“He waited until she was weak,” Rudy said, his voice choking up. He pulled a silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and dabbed the corner of his eye. Clearing his throat, he continued, “It would have happened eventually. Valerie is constantly up and down. There was always going to be something, and I think he knew that. It was easy for him to assume every role in her life when she was so shattered.”
I wanted to overturn the table. It was so unfair. “What do we do?”
“You do nothing. You stay as far out of it as you possibly can. There’s a reason Laurence is trying to drive a wedge between Valerie and you two, just like there’s a reason she can’t communicate with me freely, now,” Rudy said, his careful social walls slowly erecting once more. “It’s not like you can go to her and ask.”
“That’s true. Neil is now running all communication about visitations through an intermediary. Although…” I shook my head. “I don’t know if I should tell you this.”
“I’ve been honest with you, Sophie. I think you should be honest with me,” Rudy said, lifting his chin a notch.
“Don’t get insulted. There is a lot more at stake here than your pride.” I didn’t care if I pissed him off. Rich men often needed ego checks, and I wasn’t going to hold back just because he wasn’t my rich man. “We’re discontinuing visitation for Valerie and Laurence.”
Rudy sat up straighter. “You can’t do that to Valerie.”
“It’s not about Valerie. It’s about protecting Olivia from an unsafe situation.” Especially now that I had confirmation of my suspicions. “I don’t want her around a vio
lent man. And they… Rudy, I have to know. Were they planning to kidnap Olivia?”
He pursed his lips. “This isn’t a soap opera, ma’am.”
“No, it’s not a soap opera. But when Olivia tells us that she’s afraid to go with them because they were talking about keeping her? And then they tried to get her legally taken away from us?” I searched his face for any sign of remorse or guilt. All I saw was doubt and shock. “You had no idea.”
“I didn’t. Neil told me about the CPS call, and I told him that Laurence was behind it. He wouldn’t listen to me. But I didn’t know about it ahead of time. And if I had known, I would have told you. Or have you forgotten that Neil is my best friend, too?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I said, somewhat subdued.
“As for the other? A year ago, I wouldn’t have believed a word out of your mouth about kidnapping plots. But what I know of Laurence now? How Vee has changed?” He couldn’t finish. He pushed his chair back. “I’m sorry, I have to leave. I changed my mind about wanting to be here.”
“Please, don’t tell Valerie about this!” I pleaded.
“No, no, I won’t.” He picked up his satchel from beside his chair. “Keep Olivia safe. But don’t let Neil do what he always does. Don’t let him get involved.”
“We have to fix this for her, Rudy.” Beneath the table, my fists clenched so hard the tips of my nails bit into my palms.
“We will. But give me time. Because right now, I have no idea where even to start.”
I watched him walk away, my stomach knotting up tighter than it already had been. Soon, the tension would snap me like a string.
Though I didn’t particularly enjoy eating lunch alone, I was starving and hadn’t planned on getting ditched. I ordered my food and scrolled aimlessly through social media, and when my plate arrived, I cleaned it in the kind of record time people didn’t like to see in public. All the while, I hoped in vain that someone, anyone we knew in New York, would walk through the door and rescue me from my thoughts. At one point, I convinced myself I’d spotted the au pair from the school parking lot walking out the door, then dismissed her as a hallucination born of my desperation for company. I turned my attention back to my lackluster salad and left as soon as the bill was paid and before my mind could play tricks on me again. It would try any avenue of escape.
Sophie (The Boss Book 8) Page 15