thought you wanted a summer wedding,” Leila persisted. “Summer is around the corner.”
“A summer wedding was a dumb idea,” Sofia said. “I’d melt in the heat.”
“What do you think about Christmas?” Leila asked.
“I’m not thinking, Leila,” Sofia said. “I’m focusing on my parents’ anniversary party.”
That was her go-to excuse, but a lame one. Everyone who knew her knew damn well that she could plan ten major events and a kids’ tea party all at the same time.
“When’s that again?” Leila asked.
“Next month,” Sofia said, tense. “Then I’m free.”
“Good.”
Leila’s phone chimed again. She typed a text message and said, “By the way, a client is waiting for us at the house. I promised him an early look at this property before it hits the market. Oh, and I’m taking Brie to a Heat game next week. It’s her birthday. Wanna come? Make it a girls’ night?”
Brie was Leila’s assistant, who’d been with her through tough times and now, it seemed, really good times.
“Sure,” Sofia replied absently. “Girls’ night!”
“We’re almost there,” Leila said. “Head north on Alton.”
“Will your client mind my being there?” Sofia asked.
“No, he’ll love it,” Leila said. “Hotshot lawyer. You know the type.”
Sofia shrugged off the cold hand of dread. Don’t be paranoid, she told herself. Miami was crawling with hotshot lawyers.
“Last house on the block. Pull up to the gate.”
They were still some feet away, but Sofia could see the property walled off from the busy street and overflowing with tropical flowers. She let out a low whistle. “It’s like an oasis.”
“Go ahead and park at the curb behind that Porsche,” Leila said. “I don’t have the clicker for the gate.”
Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Sofia hit the breaks and came to an abrupt stop, sending Leila lurching forward and her purse tumbling to the car floor.
“Hey!” Leila cried.
What were the damn odds? When she’d left the note on the windshield of that same Porsche, the plan was to never see the owner again. She’d made fuzzy choices all day, but on that point she’d been very clear.
“You know what?” Sofia said, trying to buy time.
Leila smoothed her straight black hair. “What?”
“I should go.”
“Go where? We’ve got work to do! I want to hear your ideas for the open house.”
“I don’t feel so well.”
“Have you eaten today?”
At first glance, the Porsche appeared to be sitting empty, but now the driver’s door swung open and Jonathan Gunther—all six feet and however many inches of him—got out.
I’m going to lose it today.
“That’s my client,” Leila whispered. “You’re welcome.”
Sofia shrunk behind the wheel. With the top down, there was nowhere else to hide. Drivers stuck behind her were honking, and Leila nudged her in the ribs.
“Sofia, you’re holding up traffic.”
Other than pushing Leila out of her car, what choice did she have? She pulled up to the curb but refused to cut off the engine.
Jon came around to the passenger side and leaned down low. He flashed them the smile of a Viking conqueror.
“Jon,” Leila said. “This is my friend Sofia Silva. She’s a real-estate event planner. Sofia is planning our open house.”
Those brown eyes pinned her in place. “Hi, Sofia. I’m Jon.”
Sofia nodded and said nothing.
“She’s not feeling so well,” Leila explained.
Sofia gripped the steering wheel. When did Leila become such a chatterbox?
“Something you ate?” Jon asked innocently.
“I bet she hasn’t eaten all day. This woman lives on coffee.” Leila frowned. “I think she should come inside.”
“She absolutely should.”
Sofia had the feeling of having walked onto the set of a comedy sketch. The best thing, the smart thing, would be to speed off, leaving these two jokers in the dust. And yet, when Jon held open the car door for Leila, and she stepped out and gave him the briefest of hugs, Sofia felt a twinge of...envy.
“You’d be doing me a favor if you stayed,” Jon said. “I need a pair of objective eyes.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Leila said. “Sofia’s already in love with the place. She thinks it’s an oasis.”
Like any true oasis, Sofia thought, it was proving to be an illusion.
“Sofia, are you in love?” Jon asked.
“No. I don’t fall that easily.”
“Good. I’d hate it if you did.”
“And I’d love it if we got around to seeing the house,” Leila said. “That’s what we’re here for. Come on, Sofia! Let’s go!”
While Leila unlocked the gate, Jon couldn’t get over his luck. Why were they playing this game? He wasn’t sure. Jon was taking his cues from her, and she’d turned white with panic at seeing him again. This told him something: their encounter hadn’t been casual. It hadn’t been for him and now, obviously not for her, either.
The gate gave way to a lush green space filled with colorful flowers. A compact white house with modern lines and wide glass panels was tucked deep in the yard. Jon paid attention as Leila listed the pros and cons. Pro: the Alton Road location placed it at only a short bike, bus or Vespa ride away from Lincoln Road, the clubs and the beach. Con: the Alton Road location and its legendary congestion and chaos, which turned off most buyers.
“I mean if a kid kicks a ball into the street and chases after it, that kid will get flattened by a Lamborghini,” Leila said. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“Is this your best sales pitch?” Jon asked.
“I’m
