Unconditionally Mine

by Nadine Gonzalez

  “Does she know?” Leila asked.

  “We’re not on speaking terms,” Jon said. “That’ll change.”

  “How can you be sure?” Leila asked. “Sofia is stubborn.”

  “I’m sure,” Jon said.

  He was banking on that very stubbornness. Sofia loved him. Everything confirmed it: the way she touched him, said his name, made love to him. She would not walk away from that love.

  Leila gripped him by the shoulders, her nails digging through his shirt. Jon wondered if he’d made a mistake asking for her help. He wouldn’t want to steal her engagement-news thunder.

  “Do you know what this means, Jon?” she asked. “I’m in the loop! For once I’m in the loop!”

  Was the heat getting to her? “What loop?”

  “Never mind,” she said. “My ring is from Tiffany. I love it. Cartier recently opened a boutique in the Design District, so that’s an option.”

  He thought it over. “I’ve got cuff links from Cartier. Let’s go there.”

  “You want to go right now?” Leila asked.

  “Is that a problem?” He didn’t know when Sofia would come around. When she did, he had to be ready.

  Leila darted back to her car. “Follow me! Try to keep up!”

  “Didn’t you stop for gas?” he called after her.

  “Nope! I stopped for you,” she said. “Besides, this car runs on air.”

  * * *

  Late Monday afternoon, Sofia called an impromptu staff meeting. Ericka and Melissa took the seats facing her desk, purses and tote bags packed and ready for a quick getaway. Every now and then, they stole glances at their watches or checked the time on their phones.

  Sofia clasped her hands before her. “I’m planning a private event for the Fourth of July and would like some help.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Ericka asked.

  “A picnic on the beach type of thing,” Sofia said.

  “But the beach will be so crowded!” Melissa cried.

  “She’s right,” Ericka said. “Who’s the client, anyway?”

  “I am.”

  After she’d left her parents’ house, all she’d wanted to do was speed over to Jon’s house, climb into bed and resume their life together as if nothing had happened. But something had happened. For the first time in their relationship, she was free...of all encumbrances. And it felt amazing. Now she wanted only to make up for everything she’d put him through.

  “Something nice for you and Franco?” Melissa asked.

  “Something nice for me and...someone else.”

  Sofia waited for her words to make an impact. Ericka and Melissa just stared at her. Then Ericka opened her purse, thumbed through her wallet and handed Melissa a twenty. Sofia averted her eyes until the transaction was complete, but there was no escaping their taunting.

  “We saw you with him at the Star Island party,” Ericka said. “Our champagne-pouring hero.”

  “Please say it’s him,” Melissa implored. “I love him.”

  “You can’t love him,” Sofia said. “You don’t even know him.”

  “I’ve loved him since I handed him that bottle of water,” Melissa said.

  “So you’re thinking about a picnic?” Ericka asked.

  “But catered,” Sofia said. “Naturally.”

  Her team wasn’t impressed. Ericka made a face. Melissa said she was getting a brain cramp just thinking about it.

  “I’m your private event planner,” Ericka said. “Why don’t you leave it up to me?”

  They spent the next half hour tossing about ideas. Ericka made a few calls and before they left for the evening, they had the outlines of a plan.

  Once alone, Sofia reached for her old fountain pen and cardstock from her custom stationary. In her best penmanship, she wrote: Please be my guest for dining and celebration on Friday, July 4th at 6 in the evening. Coconut Grove Marina.

  Then she went to deliver the invitation in person, expecting Jon to still be at his office. He wasn’t.

  Jon’s assistant wasn’t there, either. Not the guy she knew, anyway. A young woman was at his desk and her eyes widened with recognition when Sofia approached her. It took Sofia a moment to realize that she was the third person at the restaurant the night of the ambush.

  “Mr. Gunther left early today,” she said. “Would you like to leave a message?”

  Sofia considered leaving the card, but nixed the idea. She had a few things to tell Jon beforehand. Dressed in her sharpest pencil skirt and heels, she’d come prepared to negotiate. And this time, he would hear her out.

  “Do you know if he went home?” she asked. “Or out to dinner somewhere?”

  “I can’t share that,” she said.

  She typed something into the computer and turned the monitor slightly so Sofia could take a look. The screen showed the homepage of Jon’s boxing gym. Sofia noted the address.

  “I guess that’s it then,” Sofia said for the benefit of whomever Jon’s assistant thought might be spying on them. “Thanks. Good night.”

  * * *

  At the gym, there were yet more barriers to reaching Jon. Members used a key card to access what looked like an old warehouse. Sofia lingered in the entryway, feeling like a stalker. If she called Jon and asked him to meet her outside, what was the fun in that? She needed the element of surprise. After a while, a woman in a sports bra and sweatpants combo approached, swinging a pair of gloves.

  “Need to get in?” she asked.

  “Yes. Could you?”

  “Wait.” She blocked the doorway. “You’re not someone’s crazy ex-girlfriend, are you?”

  “No!”

  Sofia was outraged. The crazy ex stereotype was sexist at best, but also accurate.

  “Just checking,” the woman said. “We’ve got our share.”

  She waved her key card and let Sofia in.

  Jon was in a ring at the center of the gym. He moved around light and quick. Sofia’s belly flopped when his partner landed a jab across his jaw. His reaction was swift; swinging hard and fast, he landed two punches. One. Two. Sofia had never seen him like this and a jolt of excitement ran through her. Suddenly, the distance between them was too great. She rushed to the ropes and called out to him. It was likely the wrong thing to do. He turned at the sound of her voice. His partner landed another punch to his head and he toppled onto the ropes.

  Sofia screamed. “Jon!” She reached up and took his face in her hands. “Oh, my God! Are you okay?”

  “What the heck melodrama is going on here?” his partner asked.

  Sofia shot him a dark look before realizing the man was only kidding, grinning from ear to ear. Jon recovered. He pulled himself upright, slipped between the ropes and jumped down to the floor.

  She took a step forward, felt the heat rising from his glistening body and wanted desperately to throw herself at him. Thankfully, he saved her the indignity by grabbing her and kissing her passionately. His gloved hands were clumsy, but her hands were free. She gripped his arms, feeling the taut muscles. When he tried to release her, she wouldn’t have it. She clung to him and kissed him harder. She had missed him so damn much.

  Finally, they broke apart. The gym erupted in applause and hollers. Someone called out to Jon. “Bro, take that outside!”

  Jon shielded her from it all. After he waved to their audience, he led her to the lobby and he pulled her onto a bench.

  “If you’re here to break up with me, I want full custody of Little Red Fish,” he said. “You didn’t know he was a dude, and we’ve got a bromance going on.”

  She considered this. “He does look a little sad.”

  “He wants to come home,” Jon said.

  “You call it his home and yet if he does one thing to upset you, you’ll deliver an ultimatum, maybe threaten to kick him out.”<
br />
  Jon looked at her for a long moment. “I would never do that.”

  “Little Red Fish won’t be moving back in,” she affirmed. “He’s in the market for a condo.”

  Jon slipped off and dropped his gloves to the concrete floor. “You are here to break up with me.”

  “Would I’ve kissed you like that?” she asked.

  “I’d like to think so,” he replied.

  Sofia twisted to face him. “I’m here with some conditions of my own.”

  He cocked his head, interested. “I’m listening.”

  She cleared her throat. “I know what I get when I get you, but you need to up your game, Jon Gunther.”

  He got comfortable, stretching out his long strong brown legs. “Up my game? Explain.”

  “The first time you called me sweetheart, I hopped on a plane to Hoboken.”

  “Was that it?” he asked. “I was wondering what had gotten into you.”

  “Jon, you say you’re good with words, but when you talk to me it’s all legalese. I need you to talk from the heart.”

  “Don’t lay out your weaknesses like that,” he advised. “Now I know how to get you to do anything.”

  “Are you listening to me?” she asked, exasperated.

  Jon reached out for her hand and took her fingers to his lips. “Sofia, you hopped on a plane to Hoboken because you’re bighearted and generous, and I love that about you.”

  Sofia’s eyes glazed over and she blinked to keep from tearing up.

  “Sweetheart, you’ve been away so long,” Jon said. “Come home with me. We’ll order pizza and get naked in the pool.”

  She had to cross her legs to contain a sudden flash of heat. Still, she managed to say, “I’m not going home with you.”

  “I’ve accepted your terms,” he said. “What’s the hold out?”

  “If I recall, you had some conditions,” Sofia said. “Aren’t you going to ask if I’ve come through on those? Whose negotiation skills need work now?”

  “I don’t care anymore,” he said. “We’ll work it out. It’s enough that you’re here.”

  Those words, although not meant to be, were hurtful. That was the saddest thing, a fighter resigned to defeat. He didn’t trust she could come through for him.

  A couple of guys stumbled into the lobby to fill their water bottles from a cooler. When they were alone again, Jon whispered, “Sofia.”

  At the sound of her name, she closed her eyes. He reached for her and weaved his fingers into her hair. The skin on the back of her neck grew warm. She ached to be touched and kissed behind her ear, down her spine.

  “Tell me you love me,” he said. “That’s what I want to know.”

  Sofia opened wide eyes and saw the turmoil in his. She lurched forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You know I do.”

  “Say it, then.”

  He’d inched his head back to better look at her. At times when emotions ran high, he never shied away.

  “I love you, Jonathan Gunther-single-no kids,” she said.

  And the best thing? She was free to love him now.

  He brushed back her hair. “I love you, Sofia.”

  Sofia closed her eyes, overwhelmed. He loved her. She’d always known it, but to hear it, to be sure, was something else.

  Jon touched a finger to her jaw. “From here on out, it’s you and me,” he said. “We come first.”

  Sofia nodded. “We come first.”

  The heavy front door swung open and a man in a business suit walked in and made his way down a hall toward the locker room.

  “I have two invitations for you,” she said, and pulled out one envelope from her purse.

  He opened it, read the card and raised an eyebrow. “I’m promised dinner and a celebration. I’m going to insist on both.”

  Sofia leaned in and kissed him again. “Don’t worry. I’ll make good on all my promises.”

  “And the second invitation?” he asked.

  “It’s for this weekend, Father’s Day,” Sofia said. “I’d like for you to join my family for dinner.”

  Chapter 25

  When Jon returned to the ring, Drew had questions. “Lucky man. Who was that?”

  “My future wife,” Jon said. “I’ll introduce you next time.”

  Drew raised his gloved hands. “What else are you hiding?”

  A five-carat canary-yellow diamond ring in my bedroom safe, he thought. He and Drew could head out for coffee and talk about it or they could fight. Right now, Jon wanted to go a round or two.

  “Come on! Move it!” he called out. “I’m feeling good.”

  * * *

  Jon spent the rest of the week racking his brain for a gift idea for Sofia’s father. Finally, Alex suggested he buy the same gift he bought his own dad, year in and year out. And at six o’clock Sunday afternoon, he pocketed the gift, checked his reflection in the bathroom mirror and set out to the restaurant on the river waterfront. As it turned out, Mr. Silva’s favorite restaurant was the one Sofia had recommended on their first outing: Garcia’s.

  The hostess led Jon through the family-owned restaurant and he noticed for the first time the walls crammed with framed photographs going back generations. Jon felt queasy and fell out of step.

  He’d managed to live a simple life by extracting himself from family ties, a trick he’d picked up from his own father. Jon had lived with his dad in Europe through his high school years. When the time came for him to set off for college, his father had declared him a “man.” Which meant the only parenting he’d need going forward was the occasional phone call and pat on the back. And Jon had adapted. Sofia was glued to her family. If they were going to have any kind of future, he’d have to embrace them. They’d have to embrace him, too.

  He wasn’t the type of man families embraced.

  “This way, sir,” the hostess said.

  Jon stopped short. Everything was happening so fast. From the entryway of the terrace, he saw Sofia standing at the head of a table. The others were seated. He recognized her mother and assumed the two men were her father and brother. Sofia appeared to be laying down the law, index finger stabbing the air, threatening. Her voice was hushed but it still carried. “You all better be nice!”

  Sofia fighting for him... Goddamn it! It was something to see.

  He had to get it together and fight for her.

  Jon moved past the hostess and approached the table. Three pairs of eyes were on him. He rested a hand on Sofia’s back and felt the ripples of her breath. She straightened up and leaned against him.

  “Hello, everyone,” he said. “I’m Jon.”

  Sofia’s family said hello, then an awkward silence followed. Sofia invited him to sit next to her, but her father interrupted, stood and extended a hand.

  “Hello, Jon,” he said. “Welcome.”

  * * *

  On Friday, July 3, Jon walked the few blocks from his office building to Clarissa Fabrics. He ducked into the doorway and a bell chimed. A sales assistant approached, asking if she could help him find a lining for a jacket or fabric for a cummerbund. Jon nodded toward Sofia’s mother in the back of the store. She was assisting a woman wearing a hijab.

  “I’m here to speak with Mrs. Silva,” he said.

  The older woman glanced his way over the rim of her glasses. She had Sofia’s eyes. The assistant took over with the customer, and she shuffled over to Jon. He noted her slow, labored pace.

  “Jon, what brings you here?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m here to talk to you about Sofia.”

  Mrs. Silva’s reaction was immediate. “Why? What did she go and do now?”

  “She hasn’t done anything,” Jon said, quick to reassure her.

  “It’s just that her life is so erratic lately,” Mrs. Silva said
wearily.

  On Sunday, she’d stared at Jon from across the dining table in disapproving silence. Her demeanor hadn’t softened until Jon presented Sofia’s dad with premium Miami Marlins season tickets. And now, under her guarded gaze, Jon lost his nerve.

  This was not how the conversation was supposed to go. He’d worn his best suit and wanted to make a good impression. But he realized the optics were wrong. He felt like a giant in the cramped store. In his dark three-piece suit, he probably looked like a bill collector or, worse, the lawyer that he was.

  “It’s not so erratic,” Jon said. “Sofia has a good head on her shoulders.”

  Mrs. Silva folded her arms across her chest, much like Sofia often did. “Her friends usually don’t stop by my shop, so something must be wrong.”

  Jon winced at the word friend and decided to change tactics. No one was sending him to the friend zone. “I love your daughter. I want to marry her.”

  Mrs. Silva plopped down on a wooden stool behind the counter. Jon took a step forward, concerned.

  She waved him away. “But you two just started dating. Am I wrong?”

  From the back of the store, the sales assistant had a curiously timed coughing fit. Mrs. Silva composed herself.

  “This is not the right place for this conversation,” she said. “Come to the house later tonight. Whatever you have to say, you can say it to both her father and me.”

  Another dinner invitation... Jon took out his phone to punch in the address. “What time?”

  “Seven. Do you like paella?”

  Jon grinned. Yet another olive branch! “I love paella.”

  * * *

  Ericka met with Sofia at the marina and, along with the captain of the chartered Beneteau yacht, explained what was in store. The sunset cruise would take her and Jon out on Biscayne Bay with a night sail back to the city. A catered dinner was waiting, but also Ericka had packed a cooler with champagne, oysters, caviar and ceviche. The captain assured her the spectacular night views of the downtown skyline would be even more so for the holiday.

  “What do you think?” Ericka asked. “All the holiday festivities, none of the holiday crowds.”

  “I think it’s perfect,” Sofia said.