Chapter 19

NINETEEN

A t approximately five the next morning, after Sofia had gotten up even earlier than normal to put on her favorite purple tulip-printed dress and ladybug rain boots for the excursion, we were on our way north. The three of us were lined up in the back of Xavier’s plush rented Mercedes after Sofia had insisted that Xavier and I sit on either side of her.

I had to give it to him. Last night’s outburst aside, he was charming the heck out of my kid, and that was not easy to do. Sofia was taking to him like a duck in water. I couldn’t help but wonder if some part of that was genetic.

The car was ironically making its way back to my home borough—the Bronx. We were going to the Fulton Fish Market, which, despite its fame as the second largest market in the world and a veritable New York institution, I had never visited. I didn’t really have much need for fish. Nor did I particularly want to go to one of the most dangerous parts of the city just to see other people buy them.

Xavier, however, had insisted it would be fun for Sofia and was clearly trying to bribe me with a large London Fog, made with a particularly strong Earl Grey. So there I sat, slightly squished and sipping my tea while Xavier and Sofia entertained themselves with the other item he had brought: origami paper.

“It’s nothing,” he said with slightly reddened cheeks when I asked how he got it. “Saw it when I was in Chinatown last night.”

I didn’t reply. Why had he gone to Chinatown last night, after we’d all enjoyed his dinner? Was he there for the nightlife? Was he meeting up with someone else while he was in New York?

Why did I even care?

I ignored all the questions and sipped my tea, which was as irritatingly perfect as he was this early morning. What a jerk.

“Where did you learn that?” Sofia asked as she watched Xavier swiftly fold a square of paper decorated with ducks.

“Ah, my mum taught me,” he answered, carefully avoiding her gaze as he worked. “Sort of like the pancake I made for you last night.”

“Mum? You mean your mama?”

He nodded as he licked one side of the paper and made a final fold, large hands impressively dexterous. “That’s right. In England, we call her Mum. Or maybe Mummy when we’re little like you.”

“I’m not so little.”

Xavier held back a clear smile at the pronunciation of little as wittle . I couldn’t help mine. It also hadn’t escaped me that Xavier’s showstopping grin was likely to make another appearance, again in response to Sofia. Was it possible she was charming him as much as he was her? Was that smile back to stay?

“No, you’re not.” He offered her another square decorated with sparkly socks. “Which is why I know you can do this. Now look, first you fold it in half diagonally. That’s it. Then open it up and do it again on the other side.”

I watched curiously as he gently but firmly guided Sofia through the short folding process. It took a few missteps, but Sofia didn’t complain. Both of their brows furrowed identically as they focused on the tiny squares in their hands, and when they were finished, I was presented with two twin expressions of triumph that were so similar, it took my breath away.

“Mama, look! I made a fishy!” Sofia squealed as she offered me a paper fish.

I swallowed, trying to find my voice. “You—you sure did, baby. I love it.”

“Just like Nemo!” Then she turned back to Xavier, who was smiling with her in a way that made my heart jump in my chest. “Actually, yours is Nemo because he’s the boy. Mine’s Dory.”

He looked over her to me, blue eyes dancing, but adorably confused.

“Cartoon characters,” I managed to say. “Keep up.”

For that, I received a delicious eye roll, but he wisely didn’t respond as Sofia pulled on his sleeve.

“Come on, let’s make another.”

They bent to their work, but I turned toward my window only to be faced with a still mostly black sky, the horizon only just starting to lighten through the buildings at the horizon. If I was getting such strong reactions to tiny scenes like this, maybe Kate and Matthew were both right. I needed a man, pronto. Because Xavier was definitely the wrong one for me.

Twenty minutes later, we followed Xavier into an enormous warehouse at the end of a pier on Hunt’s Point. It wasn’t an area of the city I would have typically gone, particularly with Sofia, given its status as a haven for addiction and crime. But the car took us directly to the enormous wharf at the end of the neighborhood that was lined with the city’s notorious culinary supply markets. Even I, who hadn’t so much as served coffee for work, knew about this place.

“It’s closing already?” I wondered as we entered a hangar still full of vendors. “At five thirty in the morning?”

Many of their stations seemed bare, with maybe a few items still on ice, if at all. Some were already starting to pack everything up.

“Yeah, most of their business is done by now,” Xavier told me. “If I were actually here to buy, I’d come at midnight, when it opens. But I’m here to meet vendors.”

“Ooh, look at that huge fish!” Sofia crowed, immediately scampering a few feet away to examine a tuna approximately her size.

Xavier surveyed the market, looking more like one of the men working the stalls than a rich businessman they should be courting. The boy from South London was back in jeans, a black hoodie, an insulated vest that pulled across his chest, and a backward cap with Arsenal printed across the front. Lord, he looked good in denim. It made his long legs look even longer, and the material encased his taut backside to perfection.

Yeah, I definitely needed a man. And definitely not this one, no matter how good he looked in jeans.

He turned, catching me mid-perusal. I reddened as one side of his mouth lifted.

“I like that tracksuit,” he told me, openly looking me up and down as I’d just been doing to him.

I followed his gaze. “It’s just sweats.”

I was totally lying. Most Saturdays saw me in old T-shirts and yoga pants while I cleaned the house, not my favorite matching red Adidas pants and jacket that Kate had found for me on consignment. Nor did I usually wear the big silver hoops dangling from my ears. Or put on eyeliner and mascara. Or curl my hair and pile it into a high ponytail that bounced around my shoulders.

Okay, so maybe I had gotten up even earlier than Sofia. So maybe I’d barely slept last night remembering the sudden pressure of those lips on mine last night. Or the way his blue eyes darted hungrily over my body before letting me go.

“Well, whatever it is, it makes your arse look great,” Xavier rumbled into my ear, causing goose bumps to rise where his warm breath touched my skin.

His fresh scent briefly overpowered the smell of brine and fish that filled the room. I shivered. When he stood straight again, he was so clearly pleased with himself that I offered my best scowl, which admittedly wasn’t particularly good at the moment.

“You should not be saying things like that to me,” I told him, quietly enough that Sofia wouldn’t hear.

I know, I know. I couldn’t even convince myself.

“Probably not,” he agreed. “But I never do what I’m told.”

He offered half a cheeky grin, and again, I found it hard not to smile back. Gradually, his grin disappeared. Then neither of us seemed to be able to look away.

“Mama!” Sofia shouted, breaking the trance. “ Look at this fishy!” She turned to the seller. “How much?”

“Wow!” I called back to her, then looked back at Xavier. “Do we have an agenda here? Or are the fishmongers good with Sofia interrogating all of them?”

Xavier cleared his throat. “Ah, yeah. Elsie sent me a list, and there are a few more,” he replied, pulling out his phone.

“Elsie?” I wondered as we started walking.

He smirked but didn’t look down at me. Almost like he was avoiding me now. “My assistant. Keep your knickers on.”

I smarted. “I wasn’t the one throwing another fit last night, Xavi.”

All humor vanished from his face. But instead of answering, he scanned the fishmonger stalls, then offered his hand to Sofia when she returned.

“There’s one. Come on, girlie. Let’s go meet some swimmers.”

For the next hour or so, I followed Xavier and Sofia from stall to stall while he interviewed vendors for his new restaurant, and she interviewed them for her new restaurant. Her menu apparently included “fish, but only the mean ones” and “yummy things.” To his credit, Xavier maintained a completely straight face while he and the vendors entertained her questions (“Did this fish ever hit anyone?” and “Do you like princesses?”). The vendors themselves just answered in that jovial, direct way that only men in New York really have.

The jokes, however, ended when Xavier handed them his card with a stern expression. It was obvious that every seller in the market wanted the Parker Group’s business. Word got around quickly as we walked through. Some of the stalls that had been closed when we entered were miraculously open again. Samples appeared of sushi-grade fish along with other creatures I couldn’t identify. Massive smiles appeared on the faces of previously wearied men.

“Yum,” Sofia purred around a mouthful of something yellow that looked like brains.

I gaped. My picky daughter was eating something raw, mysterious, and vaguely gelatinous…and liking it?

“Mama, you have to try that,” she said. “It tastes like butter.”

I frowned at the questionable pile of goo nestled in some sort of spiky shell.

“It’s uni ,” Xavier told me, spooning out a piece of it and holding it up to my mouth. “Sea urchin. It’s a delicacy.”

“I don’t like?—”

“Ces, just try it. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

I examined the blob, then him, then Sofia. She was watching with glee, Xavier with more of a smirk.

“Fine,” I said.

Not to be outdone, I opened my mouth and allowed him to feed me the urchin.

It was…

“Delicious,” I admitted with surprise after I’d gotten over the chilled, wobbly texture. I didn’t love that part, but Sofia was indeed right. It wasn’t the least bit fishy and had a slightly buttery flavor.

“It melts into an incredible sauce,” Xavier said with a satisfied grin—one that was finally directed at me. “I’ll make it for you sometime.”

For me, or for us both?

I hated that I even wondered.

Before I could stop him, he reached out and drew his thumb slowly over my bottom lip, eyes pinned to the trail left by his finger.

“Mama, I’m hungry. But not for any more fish.”

Xavier jerked, then pulled his hand away. “Er, you had a bit on your face.”

Immediately, I wiped again at the spot. His fingerprint seared.

Xavier exchanged cards with the urchin vendor, then offered Sofia his hand. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you a sandwich at the café. Then if your mum’s up to it, we can find a park and run around.”

We followed him out of the hangar and around the corner into a grubby bodega on the corner that appeared to have a grill in the back. There was a small line clearly serving the workers who were already done for their “day.” The smell of frying eggs, ham, and toasted bread filled the air alongside the familiar scents of cafe con leche, newspapers, and all the other odd little things common to shops like these all over the city.

“I’m shocked you’re willing to eat here,” I murmured to Xavier, who just shot me a look of faux outrage. “You do know it’s not organic, right? And I’m sure the eggs aren’t free range.”

For that, I received a playful nudge.

“I’ve not completely grown out of my roots, you know,” he said as we stepped to the counter. “Besides, one of the fishmongers told me they get everything fresh around the corner. Bread from Il Forno, eggs from Hunt’s Point Produce. You get the picture. So what’ll it be?”

“I could do with a fried egg sandwich on a kaiser roll,” I said. “Sofia’ll have a bagel and maybe an orange—Mom?”

I blinked when the cashier turned around and I was faced with the same surprise twice in one week.

She looked the same as she had on Sunday, except this morning her blond hair was pulled back, revealing some graying roots, the circles under her eyes were a little more pronounced, and the clothes she wore were a bit grubby around the wrists and collar.

“Frankie?”

Guadalupe Ortiz’s large green eyes immediately brightened when she caught sight of me and Sofia. Then they shifted to Xavier and stayed there a beat or two longer, full of sharp curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite name. She turned and barked something in Spanish toward one of her coworkers, then stripped off her apron and scurried around the counter.

“Hi, baby!” she cried a little too loudly. “Come say hello to your abuela!”

We shifted to the side to allow the line to pass us, and my mother squatted down right there in the shop and spread her arms expectantly for Sofia, who looked up at me with questions in her eyes.

I shrugged, as if to tell her it’s your choice .

She turned back shyly back and then tentatively allowed her a hug, tapping her shoulders lightly until she was finally released.

Xavier watched with his stern resting face. Skepticism played over his features, and I didn’t miss the way he took a step in front of Sofia after my mother released her.

“I thought you worked at a convenience store,” I said.

“Bodega, cafe, convenience store. Same thing, isn’t it?” Mom replied as she stood back up. She turned to Xavier, clearly unable to stifle her curiosity any longer. “And who is this tall drink of water?”

“Er, Mom,” I said. “This is my, ah, friend. Xavi.”

I explicitly did not use Xavier’s full name on the off chance she was going to see Lea or one of the others anytime soon.

“He’s my friend too!” Sofia put in with a stiff upper lip.

Xavier smiled down at her. “’Course I am.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Mom said as she held out a hand to shake Xavier’s. “Do I hear an English accent there? Where are you from?”

“Cheers,” Xavier replied. “I’m from South London, originally.”

“Ooh, London. That sounds so glamorous! And look at that beautiful watch,” she fawned, pulling him closer to examine the Patek. “How does someone so young afford something like that ?”

“Mom!” I chided. “Please.”

I was almost afraid to check Xavier’s expression. He allowed her to look for approximately five seconds before gently extricating his hand from her clasp.

“It’s a family heirloom,” he said evenly.

“Heirloom!” my mother crowed. “My, my, what are you, some kind of lord or duke or something like that?”

She chuckled to herself like it was the funniest thing in the world. Meanwhile, a line appeared between Xavier’s brows, and his lips flattened into a tight line.

“Mom,” I snapped. “Stop embarrassing yourself.”

It was just like her to make completely inappropriate comments about someone’s money while at the same time ignoring her own kin. Two days ago, she made all sorts of noise about wanting to know Sofia, but now she was more interested in the first shiny thing in front of her.

“Xavi makes food!” Sofia chirped, taking his hand for herself almost proprietarily. This time, Xavier did not reclaim it, but allowed her to shake it all she liked. “That’s why we’re here. To see the fishes for his new restaurant.”

“Restaurant?” She perked up like a sparrow looking for spare crumbs. “What sort of restaurant?”

“Japanese fusion,” Xavier replied shortly.

“Oh, fusion ! That sounds incredible. I don’t really know what it means, but I’m sure it’s great!”

“Mom, don’t you have to get back to work?” I said irritably, noticing the replacement cashier watching us with very little amusement. I didn’t know what she was up to—I never did—but I was more than ready to get out of this shop.

“Oh, sure. Yes, I do. What do you all want, hmm? I can get you ten percent off.”

“It’s not necessary—” I started but was waved away almost immediately as my mother jogged back around the counter and started punching numbers into the register.

“Nope, I got it,” she said. “On me.” She glanced at me, then looked meaningfully back at Xavier. “It’s the very least I can do.”

I frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

“Fine,” I said. “Xavi, can you take Sofia outside? I’ll get our food.”

“Oh, it’s all right,” he said. “I’ve got it?—”

“Please,” I interrupted. I didn’t like the way my mother was looking at him and Sofia like they were worms and she was the robin ready to eat them.

Xavier blinked, glanced between us, then nodded. “Right. Sure.”

I watched them leave, then turned back to my mom. “What are you doing?”

She frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m being perfectly nice! I never get to see you, and then you walk into this little store. It’s fate, baby, you know it is.”

“It’s not fate,” I said. “It’s coincidence. And you know what I’m talking about. You barely said hello to me and Sofia before you were drooling all over a man you hardly know. And for what?”

Her lower lip started to tremble, and her eyes grew into wide green pools of sadness. “Oh—I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t think…I was only being friendly…”

I rolled my eyes. “You must think I was born yesterday. I’ve seen you do this before.”

“What do you mean?”

I scoffed. “Mom, come on! How about when you stole half of Nonna’s jewelry to pay your dealer? Or how about when you blew all of Dad’s life insurance money on booze, huh?”

“Shh!” Her posture stiffened with each statement I made. “I’ve changed. People can change.”

“That might have worked with Lea, but it’s not going to work on me. Xavi is just a friend, all right? He has a nice watch, but he’s not here to pay for your next score or whatever else it is that you’re looking for.”

Her face fell even further. “Frankie, that was cruel.”

Guilt blossomed in my belly. Shit, maybe I had gone overboard.

“I—” I shook my head. It was hard to separate her inappropriate behavior now from years past. Maybe Matthew was right. Maybe some things were too hard to forgive.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, coming closer so her coworkers couldn’t hear. “For today and all those years and all the mistakes I ever made. I’ll tell you every day if I have to. But amor , forgiveness is divine, remember? It’s not fair for you to hold a grudge against me forever and keep me from my granddaughter. She’s making…new friends…isn’t she? Why not with her abuela too?”

She glanced out the window of the shop, where Xavier and Sofia were playing some sort of game that consisted of her standing on his shoes while he twirled around.

I rubbed my face. This was too confusing. I had too much to negotiate right now without my mother complicating all of it.

“I just need our sandwiches,” I said. “Beyond that…” I shook my head. “I’ll think about it, all right?”

My mother smiled and gave me another hug—without asking, but I couldn’t deny that it felt nice.

“Perfect,” she said. “Just perfect.”