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It sounded like a long mafia-type reach.
“Are the Vaulteneaus that powerful around here?” I drank as much of the green goop as I could swallow. It tasted like seaweed, anchovies, and some other mysterious ingredient, as the lumps went down my throat.
She assessed me. She either thought I was an idiot or completely clueless. “Not just around here. Try the entire West Coast. They are royalty, Ciaran. They have holdings in media, publishing, real estate, and other things I’m hazy on. Matty says they invest in a lot of tech start-ups, and he’s pushing his dad to get into conservation efforts.”
“Like, ‘save the whales’ kind of thing?”
“Maybe.” Franky shrugged. “He’s pretty tight-lipped about it, to be honest. I see it being connected to water resources, the bay, endangered animals, and national parks, that kind of thing.”
Matthias having a noble cause was at odds with how I saw him, especially after last night’s escapade at the airport. I decided it would be weird if I pressed too hard on that topic. “What are you going to school for?”
“I have a bachelor’s degree in nutrition. I’m now working toward earning my MBA. I want to own my own business. Along with being Matty’s assistant, I’ve been helping him develop a nutrition plan to maximize his athletic pursuits. I like coming up with healthy recipes and assisting others reach their goals. It’s a work in progress, so to speak.”
“If your hazelnut coffee is anything to go on, you’ll be very successful.” I collected the plates, cups, and put everything into the dishwasher. “Breakfast was delicious, Franky. Thank you. Even the green goop helped. My headache is gone. You’ll make a fortune on that alone if you set up shop in a college town.”
“Thanks,” Franky said. “I’ll keep that in mind. What are your plans for today? Do you need help with anything?”
I looked outside longingly. “I suppose a dip in the ocean isn’t in the cards. I heard something about an Olympic pool? I wouldn’t mind swimming laps. Where can I find it?”
Franky informed me that it was in the third basement level of the main house. “Go through the servant entrance, then take the first stairwell on the left.”
“The same stairwell that leads to the garage?”
“The same. The pool is on the bottom level. It has showers, towels, everything you might need. Just bring your swim trunks and you’re all set.”
I ran upstairs, feeling more like myself, to collect my swim trunks and goggles.
Inside the main house, I took in the graceful architecture, the round arches over each entryway, the marble statues interspersed with other artifacts, like Mayan-inspired clay tablets that depicted warriors in battle. One of the sitting rooms possessed a gigantic fish tank, with a glorious array of colorful fish going about their daily lives.
Along the way, I encountered a few of the staff, and I felt the need to explain myself, that I was headed down to the pool. They’d murmur a, “Very good, Mr. Galbraith” before resuming their path.
I found the stairwell and in no time I was down on the third level. The strong, familiar scent of chlorine met my nostrils and my anxiety evaporated like dew on a hot sunny day.
I’d never be an Olympian-level swimmer, but I’d been on my high school swim team and competed well at previous meets. My best ever one-hundred-meter freestyle came to one minute, eight seconds.
That was nowhere near Olympian levels where those who were qualifying could make that distance in under fifty seconds. I was curious to know Matthias’s heat times.
The pool before me was a crystal-clear aquatic blue and from all appearances, a true Olympic size pool at fifty meters in length. Set up in the competition style, with yellow lane dividers stretched down the pool into ten race lanes.
The changing rooms and showers appeared to be in the far corner, so I made my way there.
I heard noise from within, but assumed it was someone cleaning the spaces.
When I opened the door, a lone figure was standing there.
Matthias.
The space was misty, as if he’d taken a very long, hot shower, and was now standing in the middle of the changing room.
Matthias was…completely naked.
Okay that wasn’t entirely true.
He was using a white towel to dry his hair.
Which meant Matthias didn’t realize I was standing there.
Gawking.
