Page 200 of Boyfriend of the Hour

“Back?” I looked up. “Why were you there at all?”

Nathan nodded his head as he put on his glasses. “I took a sabbatical. An extended leave of absence.” He sighed. “I made a deal with my father to focus on Huntwell for a few months. My fatherdidend up announcing me as his planned successor at the gala.”

That was enough to throw me into a sour mood. “Jerk.”

He didn’t argue. “I didn’t accept. However, I did agree to spend a few months shadowing the interim CEO, fully learning the role. It seemed like a decent compromise. Until now.”

“Until you ran off to find me, you mean?” I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt about it, as happy as I was that he’d come.

Nathan just pulled me closer. “I don’t want to compromise anymore.”

I wanted to tell him he shouldn’t. That what his family was doing to him was horrible, and he should walk away.

But I knew he wouldn’t. Because there was something else tethering him to that family besides just basic loyalty and goodness.

I swallowed. “Is it about Isla?” I was starting to become desperately curious about this girl who served as a pawn in Nathan’s life.

He nodded. “She doesn’t turn eighteen until August, and even then, I’m not sure I’ll be able to step in. They haven’t said as much, but I think they’ve already started the process of obtaining a full conservatorship over her care after she turns eighteen.”

I pushed back so I could look at him. “Like what they did to Britney Spears?”

He frowned. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“She was this huge pop star, and then she went a little nuts, so her family used that to lock her down. She couldn’t control anything. Not her money, her job, her medical stuff. Not even who she dated.”

I shook my head in disbelief. I didn’t like much of Britney Spears now, but I used to love her stuff when I was little. “Toxic” was my jam in the fourth grade.

Or maybe it was too easy to see myself in her a little bit. Under different circumstances, my own behavior could have set me up for that kind of control too.

Sadly, Nathan nodded. “It would be like that, yes.”

“Does…does she need that kind of oversight?”

Nathan frowned. “It’s hard to say. Autism is such a spectrum, and in many ways, Isla has far fewer accommodations than she used to. Her verbal skills have improved enormously over the years, and on good days, she can socialize quite well. She does, however, struggle on others. It’s very difficult to engage heron any topics outside of her interests, which often border on obsession. Horses right now, mainly. Transitions are still nearly impossible. And most of her recent evaluations also indicate that her executive function—that’s the skills needed to make decisions, set goals, organize one’s life, and control impulses—is still highly underdeveloped.”

“Sounds familiar,” I said dryly.

Nathan turned to me. “ADHD and autism do share some overlapping traits. But it’s not the same thing. And Isla’s challenges still required substantial accommodation.”

I quieted then. He’d mentioned that before, but it wasn’t something I’d really considered. ADHD was one of those terms people had thrown at me like a weapon, a nasty name when they were annoyed by my flightiness. Not something that might actually help me.

“I need to observe her more myself,” he said as he laid back against the pillow. “But I suspect a limited guardianship would be more appropriate while she continues working with therapists to pursue school and continues learning how to manage her life. And I don’t want my parents to have that power.”

“To box you under their control too?” I asked.

Nathan didn’t say anything, which I took as a confirmation. At this point, having met his parents myself, I had no doubt that his mother at least was capable of that kind of manipulation.

“That’s fucked up.”

He nodded. “I agree.” Then he turned to me again. “I don’t want it to continue this way. Ican’t. Not with you. Not anymore. But rather than engage my parents and Isla in a protracted and painful legal battle, I think it might be easier if I play their game.”

I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. But I also couldn’t see another way out of it. Nathan cared deeply about Isla. Therefore…I cared deeply too.

“Well, I guess that’s that,” I said. “How soon after the surgery do we leave?”

He turned to me again. “We? Joni, you don’t have to go. It’s just the reason I won’t be able to stay in New York while you recuperate.”

That idea turned me cold. “What?”