Page 102 of Fair Trade
“Stonehaven.”
“That was so fucking hot.”
“Glad you thought so. Looks like I’m in the market for a new AGM.”
“Do you have any idea how often I’ve thought about fucking you on this very table during a presentation? I’m sure I have a competence kink or something, because you running the show,getting shit done? God, it does things to me.” His grin turns more feral. “Can you repeat that last bit you said one more time?”
I laugh as I wipe my face with my hands. “I said get fucked. I can’t believe—”
He hums. “Ah, yes. My pleasure.”
fifty-three
And get fucked, shedid.
fifty-four
“Did you buy thebodega on my parents’ block?”
Nick shrugs as he moves us through the celebratory crowd.
“Your mom and aunts get their best chisme from there, and the current store owners were having trouble keeping the place afloat. So I bought it and gave it to them, rent free. Now they can focus on supplying your family with the best snacks and neighborhood gossip.”
I place a kiss on his jaw. “You’re a real softie, you know that?”
“Marrying my dream girl will do that to a guy. Especially when she’s dressed like that.” He looks down at the long emerald dress that hugs me in all the right places.
“Down, boy. We have to make our rounds and congratulate the players on Team Cuba for winning the series.”
We’re at the event space at Monarchs stadium, mingling with the who’s who of New York society and retired baseball giants. Sometimes I forget that this is my job and find myself fangirling over players my father and I used to love to watch when I was a kid.
I remember the last time Nick and I attended a fancy event like this, before we actually admitted our feelings for one another. It’s crazy to believe how much has changed since then.
For instance, my whole family is at this event, and I can see my dad and uncles taking a ridiculous number of selfies with a couple of hall-of-famers while my mother and aunts are over by the bar, indulging in baseball-themed cocktails.
I look around this room, and all I see is family. In the players, the staff, and the friends I’ve made along the way.
But when I look at Nick, I see my future.
For the first time, I dare to dream about the things I was once too scared of wanting.
The thought of little Nicks running around our home, causing havoc, brings a smile to my face.
I went to a specialist last week and decided to get real medical advice instead of doing internet searches and letting second-hand information from my extended family members send me spiraling.
Turns out, even though I do have PCOS, it doesn’t mean that my ability to grow a family is off the table.
It seems as though I have absorbed every morsel of information about the terrible side effects of having this syndrome but have failed to recognize the possibilities that are still available to me.
After some rather up close and personal testing, my doctor saw that there is no medical reason I can’t conceive. When we’re ready, figuring out my ovulation cycle will be the priority, since my cycles can fall out of sync and make me irregular.
What was important for me to hear is that conception, whether spontaneous or through medical assistance, is not a sure thing for anyone.
I very well could have fertility issues down the line. There is no crystal ball to tell me what lies in the future. Our family buildingplans can look different when we decide to venture down that road.
I think back to Nick and Daisy’s childhood and wish that they had landed with a loving family like mine when his mother passed. I love the idea of being a safe place for a child to land. And growing up as a first-generation immigrant has taught me that family is not only united by blood.
I have no idea what our parenting journey will look like, but I’m excited to allow myself to finally daydream about it.
