Unconditionally Mine Page 15

  Franco cleared his throat. “My parents are in town, and I said you’d come by the condo this afternoon.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “They’re panicking. They think my life’s falling apart. I need you to come over and talk with them. They trust you.”

  So, it really was her job to clean up his mess.

  “I’m not going over there,” she said. “Tell your parents I’ll call them in the morning.”

  “They still think we’re together,” Franco said. “And they think it’s strange you haven’t come around.”

  Sofia raised her hands. “Why do they think that?”

  Franco narrowed his eyes. “For the same reason your parents still think we’re together.”

  Sofia’s stomach dropped. She couldn’t even call it a low blow since it was the truth.

  “Just come with me,” Franco pleaded. “For an hour or two.”

  When she didn’t answer, he changed tactics.

  “I’m sorry for intruding on whatever you’ve got going on here.” He waved his arms about. “But I’m on the spot, and I’m asking you for help. I did the same for you.”

  Sofia wanted to point out that on the one day he was supposed to show up for her, he’d managed to get himself arrested. But the door swung open again, and Jon had murder in his eyes. Desperate to keep the two men apart, she grabbed Jon by the arm and led him back into the house, slamming the door shut behind them.

  “Here’s the thing,” she said, speaking very fast. “I’ve got to go with him for an hour or two.”

  Anger flashed in Jon’s eyes. “You’re not leaving here with him.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  This was the wrong day for him to test her. She was going to do this last thing and that was all there was to it. She couldn’t have Franco out there, thinking she owed him, stopping by every so often with a special request.

  “Sofia—”

  “Trust me, Jon,” she said. “I have to do this one thing. I’ll be back in time for dinner, and we’ll talk about it.”

  “In time for dinner?” He let out a dry laugh. “Listen, leave here with him and—”

  “And what?”

  He didn’t have to finish his sentence for the threat to have its full effect. For a long painful moment, they stared at each other. This wasn’t a negotiation. This was a battle and Sofia would not let him win.

  “Shit!” he murmured under his breath. He grabbed his keys off a hook and headed toward the garage.

  “Jon, don’t do this!” Sofia cried, before her pride could stop her.

  She heard the garage door open and the Porsche engine fire up to life.

  * * *

  For two nerve-racking hours, Sofia tried to reassure Franco’s parents, Valentina and Ralph, the most loveable future in-laws any woman could hope to have, on subjects she had little to no knowledge of. She told them that Franco hadn’t broken any laws and his name would be cleared in due time. She told them their son was a good citizen who had always paid his taxes. She told them there was nothing to worry about. She even agreed to join them for dinner the following evening to celebrate Valentina’s birthday. Then she got up and left. It felt wrong to be back in the condo she and Franco had shared. And she figured enough time had passed for Jon to calm down. He was the only one she wanted to talk to.

  He wasn’t there when she got back. Sofia tried calling him and heard his iPhone ringing on the kitchen counter where he’d left it. Disheartened, Sofia reasoned that he had to come back soon. The man couldn’t live without his phone.

  Outside, the sun was setting. The skinny palm trees in the far end of the yard cast long sinewy shadows over the pool.

  Leave here with him and—

  And what? Anxiety bubbled up inside her. Here she sat, waiting for him to come home and make everything sweet again. Take her out for tapas. Make her laugh. Make love to her. But Jon had the power to crush as well as to restore. He had all the power. She’d come so far. Was it only to wait for yet another man to live up to her expectations?

  What exactly was she doing?

  Chapter 21

  There was a price to pay for choking. When Jon returned to an empty house late Sunday night, he learned that lesson. At the party, he’d had the opportunity to tell Sofia he loved her and he’d choked, for lack of a better word. With her ex standing at his door, the time hadn’t seemed right. But maybe if he had said it, instead of threatening her like a jackass, she wouldn’t have left, taking everything, her few clothes and even the goddamn fish.

  The truth was, Jon didn’t have the language for love. He could count on his killer communication skills to succeed professionally. He was an ace at negotiations and no one could deliver a closing argument like him. When he wasn’t working, he could talk trash with the best of them. But he couldn’t recall the last time—in his adult life, anyway—he’d told a single person he loved them. It just didn’t come up in everyday conversation.

  After he stormed out of the house, leaving Sofia and Franco alone together, he’d spent his evening at the office, trying to put a dent in the work that had piled up during his trip to Jersey. Every time he’d thought of calling her, he couldn’t shovel enough pride out of the way to do it. Thus, giving her ample time to pack up and leave without even a courtesy goodbye letter.

  In his defense, Sofia was in the wrong. He’d put up with a lot, but this was a bridge too damn far. To have that man show up at their door, interrupting their day and for her to leave with him. The worst was that she’d expected Jon to understand. What kind of mess was that? He was angry and had every right to be.

  Anger, however, made a poor companion. It abandoned him the moment he fell onto the bed, the big empty bed, and closed his eyes. Silence folded around him and filled the hollow spaces of his heart. The price to pay for choking was too high.

  * * *

  “Morning, boss!” Alex greeted him when he stepped out of the elevator. “You’ve got a staff meeting at ten.”

  Jon grunted something and shut himself in his office. Then he came back out and asked Alex to hunt Stephanie down.

  Stephanie had new information. It wasn’t good. “Turns out Ramirez had a rainy day fund he’d forgotten to report.”

  Jon swore under his breath. It was as if the guy was trying to look as guilty as possible.

  “It’s not much,” Stephanie said, alarmed. “Ten grand. But it does look like—”

  “Money he pocketed from his business partner’s side hustle,” Jon said, finishing Stephanie’s thought.

  “He swears that it’s money he inherited from his grandfather in Puerto Rico,” she said. “I’m waiting to hear back from the lawyer in San Juan who handled the transaction.”

  Jon was so sick of waiting. He wanted this thing handled.

  “I have some good news,” Stephanie said. “The prosecutor is Andrew Fordham. A little birdy tells me he’s a pal of yours. Think you could reach out to him to work out a deal?”

  “In exchange for what?”

  “Testimony.”

  Jon raised his brows. “So he does know a little something about the business. Here I thought his head was up his—”

  “I’ll work with him,” Stephanie said. “Will you reach out to Fordham? I hear he’s a real hothead.”

  “Count on it.”

  Jon wasn’t as confident as he sounded. Drew was a little hotheaded, and there was nothing he loved more than a conviction.

  “Thanks,” Stephanie said. “I’d like to wrap this up.”

  So would Jon. Franco wasn’t as dumb as he liked to think. He’d seen the way the guy worked Sofia and had a better understanding of their dynamics. Sofia was the stronger one of the two, and Franco both resented and relied on that strength. He needed her now that his life was falling apart. When life had been good, he’d lied to her and collected
naked pics from random women. This was going to end now.

  Alex peeked his head into his office at noon.

  “Heading out to lunch?” Jon asked, his eyes on the computer screen.

  “Uh... Heading out to take the bar exam,” Alex replied. “Thought I’d remind you.”

  Jon snapped to attention. “Is that now?”

  “Friday is my last day. Taking time off to study.”

  “Kid, your timing!”

  “I don’t schedule these dumb tests.” Venturing closer to the desk, he asked, “Are you all right?”

  “I’ve got a lot going on,” Jon replied.

  “True,” Alex conceded. “But you haven’t been yourself lately. Everyone is saying that.”

  Jon shifted in his chair. “Everyone who? What are they saying?”

  “You hit on a client’s girl,” Alex said. “Everyone is saying that.”

  “You mean Sofia?”

  Alex nodded. “You made her tea and everything.”

  That did it. Jon raised himself slightly from his chair and pounded the desktop. Through clenched teeth, he growled, “Sofia is mine!”

  Alex’s face fell. He apologized and scurried out of the office. Jon fell back into his chair as the weight of his rage crashed down on him. Had he really flashed his teeth at the kid? He willed himself to calm down. Once his hands had steadied, he got up and walked out to Alex’s workstation. He was at his desk, working at a frantic pace. When he saw Jon, he apologized again.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said. “I crossed a line.”

  “Walk with me,” Jon said.

  They took the elevator to the twentieth floor terrace with a prime view of all of downtown, the river and Brickell. Jon leaned over the rail and hung his head. He hadn’t heard from Sofia in twenty-four hours—not one word, not an angry emoji-filled text message or a go-screw-yourself email. The idea of having to return to that big empty house, of spending another night alone in that bed, was getting to him. He’d admit to anything, apologize for whatever, to avoid that.

  Alex pulled out what looked like a stylus from his pocket and asked whether Jon minded.

  “Mind what?” Jon asked.

  “Do you mind if I vape,” Alex said.

  “Let me see that,” Jon said.

  Alex handed over the stylus and Jon tossed it over the rail, sending it falling twenty floors down into a patch of shrubs below.

  Alex blinked helplessly. “I guess I deserved that.”

  “I’m doing you a favor,” Jon said. “Quit messing with your body. You’ve got too much going on.”

  Alex grabbed onto the balcony rail as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

  “First, you’ve got to crush the bar exam,” Jon continued. “Still planning on joining the Miami PD’s office?”

  “That’s the plan,” Alex said.

  As far as plans went, it was a solid one. The kid could sharpen his litigation skills. “Then I want you to join my gym.”

  Alex shook his head and said he’d stick with LA Fitness. “Do you know how much PDs make? I can’t afford your gym.”

  “First two years are on me. Graduation present.”

  The kid looked as if he might cry. Jon couldn’t let that happen. “Now that you’re sorted out, who’s going to handle my business? Any clue?”

  He’d left it up to HR to replace Alex. He hadn’t wanted to go through the trouble of interviewing candidates.

  “Katherine Henry,” Alex said. “She’s a paralegal straight out of FAMU. Used to work with Bill before he retired. Thinking about law school.”

  “I’ll get her to think harder,” Jon said. “When will I meet her?”

  “How about later today?” Alex proposed. “I could have her come by. We could talk about the transition.”

  Jon nodded and went back to his solemn contemplation of the river.

  “She’s a lucky girl,” Alex said.

  “Katherine Henry?”

  “Ms. Silva.”

  “She’s not a girl,” Jon said.

  “She’s a lucky woman,” Alex corrected himself.

  “She doesn’t think so.”

  “Really?” Alex sounded genuinely surprised. “She’ll come around. You’re a great guy.”

  Was the kid trying to make him cry? Jon slapped him on the back. “Time to get back to work.”

  “You go back to work,” Alex said, losing his sentimentality. “I’m on lunch break.”

  * * *

  By 5:00 p.m., Jon couldn’t take it anymore. He called Sofia. Her cell phone went straight to voice mail, so he tried her office. A cheerful voice greeted him.

  “Thank you for calling Pop Miami Event Planning. This is Melissa. How may I help you?”

  After he asked to speak with Sofia, he was placed on hold. Or so he thought.

  There was a clicking sound and a short silence during which Jon’s throat went dry, but then Melissa’s voice came through loud and clear.

  “Did Sofia leave early today?” she asked.

  “Yes,” a woman replied. “She’s meeting Franco and his parents for dinner.”

  “It’s only five. Where’s this dinner? Palm Beach?”

  “By their place in Aventura. Novecento. Have you ever been?”

  “Yeah! The one in Brickell.”

  Jon picked up a pencil and jotted down the name and location of the restaurant. Then he snapped the pencil in two. Their place?

  “Is the caller still on hold?” the other woman asked.

  There was another clicking sound. “Sorry, sir. She’s not in right now. Would you like to leave a message?”

  “I’ll try again tomorrow. Thanks.”

  Jon hung up and called Novecento. “Franco Ramirez calling to confirm an eight-thirty reservation.”

  After a long crackling pause, he got his answer. “You mean six-thirty, don’t you? A reservation for four?”

  An early-bird special, Jon thought viciously. Just lovely. Sofia had promised to be back before dinner, and tonight she was meeting with her fiancé’s parents for dinner. Just yesterday, they’d been...happy. She’d been happy with him, at their place. He couldn’t understand it. Sofia loved him. He knew it. Where was the woman who’d hopped on a plane, followed him to Jersey and helped defuse an extremely tense situation with a smile and a boatload of Italian food?

  Jon was ready to head out to Aventura when Alex showed up at his door. Behind him was a thin young woman with large brown eyes, dark chocolate skin and long thin braids swept to one side. She looked terrified.

  “Is this a good time?” Alex asked. “I have Katherine with me.”

  “Kathy,” she said.

  Jon looked to Alex, then Kathy and came up with a plan.

  “How about we talk over dinner?” he proposed. “Would that make it less painful?”

  “Works for me!” Alex said.

  Kathy brightened up. “I’ll grab my purse!”

  “Good.” Jon said. “I know just the place.”

  * * *

  The waiter filled their glasses with water. “Today’s special is the gaucho steak paired with an excellent Cabernet from Spain.”

  Alex ordered a Heineken. Kathy looked up from her menu and said, “Just water for me.”

  “Are you sure about that water?” Jon asked.

  “Last call for alcohol,” Alex teased.

  “Okay,” she said, clearly relieved. “I’ll try the Mojito Novecento.”

  Jon finalized the order. “And I’ll have that Cab.”

  “Excellent, sir.”

  The Argentinian bistro was all red and gold and dark polished wood. Jon had picked a table near the restaurant’s entrance for better visibility. It was six-thirty on the dot. The waiter returned with their drinks.

 
Alex attempted to lead what should have been a professional business dinner. “Should we start with the caseload?”

  Kathy looked past Alex and out the window to the outdoor patio. “I may be imagining this,” she said. “But there’s a woman outside staring at us...as if we owe her money.”

  Alex jerked around to see. But a calm that had eluded Jon up until that point finally settled in. He picked up his glass, gave the velvety red wine a swirl, and counted to ten. By the time he reached eight, Sofia zipped past their table making a beeline for the restrooms. Her profile was partially masked by all that hair, but the tension in her clenched jaw was obvious—at least to Jon.

  Alex made a clumsy attempt to distract Kathy. “Thinking about going with the burger. What looks good to you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the sliders?”

  Jon put down his glass and excused himself. “Order whatever you like, and the gaucho steak for me. Medium rare. I’ll be right back.”

  Chapter 22

  Sofia stepped out of the ladies’ room and found Jon waiting out in the hall. She had fully expected him to be there and still she froze. The night spent at Miguel’s and the long empty hours at the office had gutted her. Having to sit with Franco and his parents, smiling while he held her hand, was absolute torture. Then to look up and spot Jon at a table inside the restaurant, looking casual as if his very presence wasn’t a hostile act—that finally did her in.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  A waiter brushed past them and pushed through the double doors leading to the kitchen.

  He shrugged. “Staff meeting.”

  “Bullshit. How did you know where to find me?”

  “Maybe teach your staff how to use a mute button.”

  Damn it! The phone in the reception area had been acting iffy all week, and she’d ignored Melissa’s complaints.

  Her waiter swept past on his way to the kitchen. Sofia flagged him down. “Could you bring us a slice of cake with a candle when we order coffee later?”

  “No cake this afternoon. Is a brownie okay?”

  “Sure. Whatever.”

  “Ever the event planner,” Jon said. “What are you celebrating?”