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So when he casually told me, “I’m going to propose to the most enchanting woman tonight, Matthias,” I just blinked at him. We were sitting at the outdoor dining table located on the massive terrace that jutted out over the cliff.
While Stefon Vaulteneau was a huge fan of monogamy, most of his relationships were very short, and to put it bluntly, Dad was not the proposing kind. Plus, I wasn’t even aware he was dating anyone at the moment.
“Is that so?” I said in a bored voice.
I’d just come up from finishing laps in our basement-level Olympic pool, a towel wrapped around my waist. I’d rather have gone to get dressed, as I needed to get ready for classes, but Dad had that look in his eye, the kind that dads got sometimes that said, Sit with me for a minute, son.
“I met her in Vegas,” Dad said, “and fell hopelessly in love.”
The cool Pacific breeze and squawking seagulls brought with it my desire to be out in the ocean, surfing in the chilly water, but no, I was sitting here listening to Dad brag about his latest conquest.
“That seems sudden,” I said, rolling my eyes, not that he noticed. “Topless dancer or poker dealer?”
Honestly, I didn’t care about his love life, though thankfully he stopped dating young starlets after I told him he was using his power and wealth over women who’d do just about anything to become a movie star.
“Neither, Matthias,” he’d said as he sipped his Bloody Mary—his breakfast of choice for as long as I’d been alive—while skimming through script coverage reports the studio sent to gain his financial backing. He had three stacks before him, his no, maybe, and yes piles. The no pile was the tallest. “She owns and operates a deli.”
“A Las Vegas deli owner? That’s…” I failed to find the right description as I sipped the coffee my nutritionist-slash-assistant Franky had left for me.
For a fleeting second I let myself savor the flavor. Franky’s dark roast could change the world. If Franky didn’t start her own nutritionist business, she could easily open her own café. In addition to the coffee, she made me a spinach omelet.
“Different?” Dad added helpfully, his black and silver mustache twitching as he smiled.
“Well, yeah.”
“You’ll understand when you meet Theresa Galbraith. She reminds me of your mother, God rest her soul.” Dad kissed his fingers and lifted them to the sky in a small prayer for my mother’s soul. Then he cleared his throat to add, “I’m having Great-Grandmère’s engagement ring resized as we speak.”
I almost choked on the omelet. Great-Grandmère’s five-carat Cartier diamond ring was a priceless heirloom that had been locked up in the family vault since her death fifty years ago. No one had worn it since, not even my own mother.
On top of that, Dad never compared anyone to Mom. Helena Silvestre descended from Catalonia royalty and her life-long passion was motorcycles. She died in a motorcycle collision when I was twelve and my older brother, Dante, was nineteen. Needless to say, as a result, neither my brother or I were allowed anywhere near a motorcycle.
Now that I was twenty-one, Mom was a distant memory, so it wasn’t like I feared someone was coming in to replace her.
I studied my father’s expression. Staring at me, he looked happy. Happier than I’d seen in a long time.
It hit me then that Dad was being serious. He was really going to propose to a woman tonight.
Who the hell was Theresa Galbraith? And was she so extraordinary that other women paled in comparison?
I wouldn’t be surprised if this Theresa woman said yes without even knowing him.
“Well, I guess congratulations are in order, Dad.” I lifted my coffee in salute.
Dad chuckled. “Don’t congratulate me yet, Matthias. I’m not sure of my chances.”
“I’m sorry, but what?”
“We only just met and frankly, she didn’t seem all that impressed by my wealth.” Dad smiled a less-than-confident smile, one I’d rarely seen on his face.
“You think she’ll say no?” I’d never seen my dad, a large, swarthy confident man, unsure of his reward.
“She might.” Dad finished his Bloody Mary and stood to leave the table. He was already dressed for business, his royal-blue suit effortlessly draped over his impressive figure. At sixty-one, he was still a handsome, robust man who could hold his own against men half his age. “If she turns me down, I’ll work on becoming a better man who deserves her and try again later.” Dad slapped me affectionately on the back. “I’m headed to Vegas now. I’ll text you and Dante tonight with the news.”
I sat there, stunned. That’s how I learned it was love at first sight for Dad, but I couldn’t put much stock in it. He’d been in and out of love with various women since Mom died.
I went about my day and I put the entire event from my mind. I was too busy with school, swim practice, and other activities.
I was in my third year at the University of Southern California’s Marshall School of Business, and, to put it frankly, classes were kicking my ass. I’d never been studious—never needed to, not with Dad paying for all my scrapes and mistakes. All I cared about was shaving time from the scoreboard. When most kids were unwrapping video games for their birthday, Dad had an indoor Olympic pool built for me in the estate’s vast basement when I turned nine.
