Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Nat's heart raced as she emerged from the security area into the arrivals hall at JFK.
Eighteen days had felt like an eternity, and despite their daily video calls, she'd been nervous about this moment.
Would things feel different in person? Had the magic of their holiday connection somehow dissolved in the face of reality?
But then she saw Sofia standing there, elegant as ever in a tailored coat, holding an enormous bouquet of deep red roses.
Their eyes met across the crowded hall, and all of Nat's doubts melted away.
Sofia's face lit up with that radiant smile that had been haunting her dreams, and suddenly she was moving forward, drawn like a magnet.
They collided in a tight embrace, the roses crushed between them. Sofia's familiar scent enveloped her, and Nat buried her face in her neck, overwhelmed by how right it felt to be back in her arms.
"I've missed you," Sofia whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I've really, really missed you."
"I’ve missed you too," Nat managed, pulling back just enough to see Sofia's face. "So much." She smiled as she looked down at the roses. “Are those for me?”
“Yeah. I know it's cheesy, but I couldn't help myself."
"They're beautiful," Nat said, breathing in their sweet fragrance. She adjusted her small carry-on bag on her shoulder – she was only staying for two days before starting her new job at The Copper Kettle with Amy, but even that felt precious.
"You must be hungry," Sofia said, taking Nat's free hand in hers. "I thought we could eat at my place? I've been cooking."
Nat's eyebrows shot up. "You cook?"
"Sure I do," Sofia admitted with a laugh. "Not often but I can whip up a few dishes. I thought it would be a bit more intimate than going to a restaurant. Everything's prepped and ready to go – I’ll finish it off when we get home."
Sofia's driver was waiting for them outside. He smiled warmly, taking Nat's small bag and opening the car door for them.
As they settled into the back seat of the sleek black car, Nat leaned into Sofia, their fingers still intertwined. The city sprawled before them, and Nat stared out the window, taking in every detail of her first glimpse of New York.
The highway stretched ahead, the Manhattan skyline rising in the distance like something from a movie.
The winter sun was setting early, casting long shadows between the buildings and making the windows glitter like diamonds.
Nat had traveled a bit throughout her life, but this was different – this was Sofia's world, and everything felt new and exciting through that lens.
"Look," Sofia said, pointing when they crossed a bridge. "That's the Empire State Building straight ahead. And over there, that's One World Trade Center."
Nat watched in awe as they drew closer to Manhattan, the buildings growing taller, the streets becoming more crowded. Yellow taxis wove between cars, and people hurried along the sidewalks despite the cold. The energy was palpable, so different from the peaceful streets of Aspen.
They turned onto a quieter street lined with elegant townhouses, their facades adorned with wrought-iron details and small trees wrapped in twinkling lights. The car pulled up to one of those buildings, and Nat realized this must be Sofia's home.
"We’re here." There was a hint of nervousness in Sofia’s voice.
Nat took her bag from the driver, thanked him, and followed Sofia up the steps to the front door. “Wow. This is so charming. I imagined you living in a penthouse in one of those high-rise buildings.” Nat looked up at the beautiful brownstone. “You own the whole house?”
“Yes, it’s mine. I bought it four years ago and renovated everything.” Sofia held open the door for her.
The entryway was warm and inviting, with dark hardwood floors and cream-colored walls adorned with abstract art. A crystal chandelier cast a soft light over everything, and the air smelled of whatever Sofia had been cooking – something rich and savory that made Nat's mouth water.
“Mmm… it smells great. What are you cooking?”
“Chili con carne,” Sofia said. “It’s simple but at least it can’t go wrong. Do you like chili?”
“I love it. ” Nat handed Sofia her coat that she hung in a hidden closet.
"Lights on," Sofia commanded, and the space brightened with a warm glow. "Temperature up two degrees."
"Fancy," Nat said with a grin.
"I know it seems a bit excessive," Sofia admitted, "but once you get used to it, it's hard to go back to hitting light switches. Besides, I’m a tech geek." She gestured toward the sweeping staircase. "Would you like a tour before dinner?"
Sofia led them upstairs and pointed out various rooms – her small home library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a cozy media room, and guest bedrooms that made Nat's apartment look like a closet in comparison.
But rather than feeling intimidated by the luxury, Nat was charmed by the personal touches throughout: framed photographs from Sofia's travels, art pieces that clearly meant something to her, and comfortable reading nooks with rumpled throw blankets.
"And this," Sofia said, pushing open a door on the top floor, "is my bedroom."
The master suite was stunning, with large windows overlooking the street and an old, stone fireplace facing the four-posted bed.
The bed was made to perfection, dressed in what looked like the softest Egyptian cotton in a deep navy blue that complemented the room's neutral tones.
Plush pillows were artfully arranged against the mahogany headboard, and a cashmere throw was draped across the foot of the bed.
Nat's mind wandered to thoughts of later - of sinking into those expensive sheets with Sofia, of their bodies tangled together in that enormous bed.
As if reading her mind, Sofia shot her a knowing smile and stepped closer, cupping Nat’s cheek. "I've missed you so much. Video calls aren't the same."
"No, they're not," Nat agreed, wrapping her arms around Sofia’s waist in return. The tension that had been building between them since the airport crackled in the air as Sofia's lips met hers.
The kiss started gentle but quickly deepened, eighteen days of longing pouring out between them. Nat's hands roamed, pulling her closer, and Sofia's fingers tangled in her hair.
A timer chimed somewhere downstairs, the sound muffled but insistent, and Sofia groaned against Nat's lips.
"That's dinner," she muttered. "The pressure cooker needs stirring.
" She pressed another kiss to Nat's lips before reluctantly pulling back.
"Come on. Let me show you the kitchen. I think you'll appreciate it. "
The kitchen, when they reached it, was a chef's dream – all gleaming stainless steel and marble countertops, with a huge island in the center. Copper pots hung from a rack overhead, and in the corner stood a wine cabinet.
"I don't actually use it much," Sofia admitted, relieving the pressure on the pot. A self-deprecating laugh escaped her. "I just thought it looked pretty when I was renovating. My interior designer convinced me I needed a professional kitchen."
"It is very, very pretty," Nat said, admiring the space. "What a shame you don't use it."
Sofia shrugged, removing the lid to stir what looked like chili con carne. "It's only me here, and honestly, there's no fun in cooking for one. When I meet friends, we usually go out. I find entertaining a bit stressful, actually."
"I hope I'm not giving you too much anxiety then," Nat joked, leaning against the island.
Sofia turned to her, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well," she said, her voice dropping lower as she stepped closer to Nat, "even if I do get cooking anxiety, I'm sure we can find ways to relieve that stress later."
Her suggestive tone made Nat's breath catch, and heat rushed to her cheeks. Before she could respond, Sofia reached past her to grab two wine glasses from the rack. She shot her a teasing grin. "But first, let me pour you some wine. And then you can tell me if I've completely ruined this recipe."