My Stardust Melody, Chapter 2
Chapter 2
The car slowed as the drive meandered through the silver maple trees leading to the manor. The ride was quiet as both men let their eyes wander over the extensive grounds, taking in the changing leaves, a small fishing pond, and a stone cottage on the perimeter of the property. Luke's voice cut through the peace, saying "Father, promise me, that if even one person invests in Grimaldi, you'll agree that we don't need Julian."
Luke looked over at his young-looking father, sitting to his left in the back of the beige upholstered car. Square-shouldered and tan from his Mediterranean heritage, Damian Grimaldi was everyone's idea of handsome. He had tousled light brown hair that only recently had shown hints of grey and wide set, steely blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled. His lips were generous, particularly for a man, and it was a trait that his son had inherited. When he flashed his brilliant smile, as he was doing now, he could charm anyone.
"You agree about Julian, right?" Luke asked again when Damian didn't immediately respond. His phone rang before his father could respond to Luke's concern.
"Hey Faithy," Luke answered, smiling broadly. Faith had just turned sixteen and had started checking up on Luke all the time. Luke, for the most part, found it endearing. "We're just about to arrive at the house."
"I just wanted to wish you luck. I know this is really important, even if you try to hide it," Faith replied in a soft and clear voice.
"I'm not trying to hide anything, Faith," he said, glancing quickly at his father. His statement was a complete fabrication-he had never let on to how high the stakes were. And the kids knew next to nothing about Julian Raines.
"I don't like Julian, Luke."
Okay, strike my last thought. Apparently Faith knew something about Julian. Luke replied, "You don't know him, Faith. You haven't even been introduced." Luke could picture Faith rolling her honey brown eyes as he said this.
"I saw some footage of you two online at some gala. He acted like you were a possession," she said testily.
A little exasperated by Faith's interference, Luke ground out, "I promise Julian treats me fine." He knew what video clip she had seen. Julian was being interviewed by a television station about a major investment he had made recently in medical technology when the reporter asked about his date. Julian had smiled at Luke and spoken about how handsome the younger man was-all of which was fine until Julian had shushed Luke when the blonde had tried to speak for himself. It was not Luke's fondest memory of Julian, but it certainly was not enough of a sample that Faith could make an accurate judgment of the man. Everyone has bad moments. Particularly Julian, Luke thought wryly.
"He's also old," Faith sniped.
"He's not that old," Luke countered, entering into the familiar bickering pattern he had with his sister.
Faith audibly harrumphed. "He looks older than Dad or Damian." She said "Damian" with obvious distaste, having never completely trusted Luke's biological father. Even for a sixteen-year-old, Faith was unusually cynical. Her judgments of people were nevertheless astute, but Luke thought she was mistaken on the subject of Damian.
"Well, that doesn't make him old," Luke said tersely. Of course, Luke thought Julian was too old for him, but he wasn't about to tell Faith that. If things did not go well this weekend, it was imperative that his family never know his feelings about Julian.
"Yeah, over twice your age isn't old. Uh huh." Faith's voice was brimming with sarcasm. She continued, "And, why are you dating him? I know he's richer than Grandmother ever could even dream of being, but it's not like you to date someone because they can buy you things. What's going on?"
Luke warned, "Leave it alone, Faith. I need to focus on getting through the party." If Faith was asking why Luke was dating Julian, then she truly had no idea of just how close they were to losing their home. She certainly couldn't suspect the truth that Julian had made his future financial investment in Grimaldi Shipping contingent on Luke's companionship.
"Fine," she sulked, but quickly brightened for her brother's sake. "So what's on tonight's agenda?" Faith could be stubborn, but she didn't want to upset Luke just as the weekend was starting.
Relieved at the change in topic, Luke said eagerly, "It's a nightclub theme with big band music." Damian and Luke had planned the entertainment this weekend to the smallest detail. Tonight would be the Roaring Twenties Gala. The next would feature a speakeasy theme-guests would need a password just to get in the door. During the day, Damian was providing all sorts of entertainment-an elaborate picnic designed to look just like a scene from The Great Gatsby, croquet tournaments, garden tours, massages, etc. Guests would leave Sunday afternoon, following an elaborate brunch. No expense had been spared in creating the social event of the year.
"That sounds fun. Well, for you old folks, anyway."
"Thanks for that," Luke drawled. "I'm not quite using a cane yet." His fingers flicked idly over the crease of his tan trousers as he turned his thoughts from the weekend to his sisters and brother. He asked, "So, how is Jack?" Their cousin helped as much as he could. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to pay off the farm's debts any better than Luke. Between a policeman's salary and four children of his own, there was only so much he could offer, and, besides, Jack was among the many who were not aware of how dire things had become.
Faith chirped, "Great! He and Carly took all the young kids out for ice cream. Parker, Natalie, and I stayed at home."
"No ice cream for you?"
"Not if I want to fit into my prom dress," she replied.
Luke frowned and flattened his hand against his pants. "It's only October, and you haven't even bought a dress yet." Not that Luke knew how they were even going to pay for one at this point. He mentally shrugged off that thought as it pained him too much to contemplate. He couldn't stand the idea of his sister going without something that she really wanted.
"I've got it pictured in my mind, and I need to look my best if I'm going to show any skin."
Luke groaned and said, "I'm going to ignore the part about the skin. We'll talk about the dress on another day. Just mind Carly and Jack this weekend, okay?"
His voice had been slightly choked, but Faith didn't comment on it. "Will do," she said with a little salute that Luke couldn't see . "I'm glad you made it to New York safely. Good luck, even though I know you won't need it." She paused for a moment and softly added, "I worry about you."
"Don't worry, Faith. You know Maddie will be here to look after me." Maddie Coleman was the sole office employee of Grimaldi Shipping. Smart, funny, and a graduate of Wesleyan-the same college Luke had attended for two years--Maddie accepted a job from Damian after college. Between her English degree and the declining economy, she was happy to have any employment that paid better than the minimum wage being offered to her by other companies.
With an exaggerated sigh, Faith replied, "Maddie isn't me, but I guess she'll do."
"I'm glad my best friend gets the stamp of approval. I gotta go, though. Love you, Faith." He glanced out his window to see the ornate stone entrance of Winthrop Manor come into view.
"Love you, too, Luke."
Luke hung up the phone as the car pulled in front of the manor. It had felt strange to have a relatively normal conversation with his sister when so much was going on this weekend. Hanging up the phone felt like saying goodbye to reality thus far and walking into some sort of surreal vision of someone else's life. Of course, nothing had really seemed normal to Luke in the past three years but never had the future had such stark options as now.
As Luke and Damian got out of the car, formally dressed "servants" hurried out of the house to help them inside. Luke looked up at the cloudless sky and felt the brisk October wind. It was perfect weather for the party. The leaves were turning on the trees, but the temperature was slightly warm for this time of year. The cold grey days of October seemed to be magically swept back to another week. Maybe it would be a sign of good things to come.
As they ascended the stairs, Damian put an arm around Luke's shoulders and said, "Cara would be so proud of you." "Cara," meaning "beloved" in Italian, was Damian's name for Luke's mother. Luke never liked the sound of it on Damian's tongue. As far as Luke was concerned, Damian had rarely treated Lily as a beloved wife, and he didn't like Damian using that moniker any more than he liked being called "Luciano." However, Damian, who was willful and sure he was right, never entirely ceased to use both.
Luke took umbrage to the sudden mention of his mother. "My mom is the reason I'm here, Damian. I'd rather not talk about her." In fact, Lily's missteps were the only reason Luke had let Damian in the door three years ago. In retrospect, he was glad he made the choice to work for Damian and had let himself eventually love the man, but that didn't make Lily's mistakes any easier to accept.
"You should forgive her, son. You forgave me."
Damian always defended Lily and while Luke sometimes found that endearing, most of the time, he found it frustrating. "I try, and I know she didn't lose everything intentionally, but she lost everything! Millions, and she just kept spending." It was an old argument, but he and Damian never seemed to tire of it.
"I've lost everything, too," his father replied.
"But you didn't have anyone relying upon you. She had children." Luke winced, knowing that Damian would be hurt by those words. Damian did technically have a son; Luke just never relied upon the idea of a Grimaldi inheritance when he was younger. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it that way," he said, biting his lip.
"It's okay, Luciano. I wasn't there for a lot of your childhood."
"You're here now, though, and that counts for something." Luke had not entirely trusted Damian's unending patience when his father first returned, but over the years, he had decided that Damian's gentle tone was sincere.
The pair walked through the heavy front door of the mansion. The foyer seemed like it was cut out from a picture of the most opulent opera house in Paris or Milan, and Luke was awed by its splendor. The glass mosaic vaulted ceiling was at least forty feet high, and multicolored marble friezes along the hallway's walls led to a grand double staircase of fine grey marble. For a moment, Luke let himself enjoy the scene without thinking about his future or his family's. He paused, breathed in the smell of freshly polished floors, and then walked hurriedly to catch up with Damian.
As Luke peeked into an arched doorway to his left, he could see Louis XVI style furniture in a cream-colored room of Venetian style. A long hallway that led to the east and west wings of the home crossed their paths before the father and son reached the stairs. Luke was uncomfortably aware of each step he took as it made a loud tapping noise against the marble. Damian seemed oblivious to the sound as he glided briskly and confidently. Luke wondered if Damian ever felt awkward in any situation.
It was amazing that this home had once been a private residence, and the cost it would have incurred to build it was unfathomable to Luke. Hell, he wasn't entirely sure how much it cost to rent this place as Damian had taken care of most of the arrangements. Luke had largely been in charge of organizing the entertainment, which was an enormous undertaking, but now he wished he had inquired a little more about the expense of the weekend. As they came to the first landing, Luke asked, "Damian, are you sure we can afford this party, or are we headed directly to debtors' prison?"
"Don't worry, son. No one goes to jail for debts anymore. Besides, this party is going to loosen the pocketbooks of every investor who attends."
Damian spoke with confidence, but Luke still was concerned. His father had not actually answered his question.
Seeing the troubled expression on Luke's face, Damian said, "Don't think of it, Luciano. We have this covered. Just try to enjoy yourself. We can't let people know we're desperate, so you must look like a man who doesn't care about a thing in this world."
Luke nodded. "I know. As soon as it starts, I promise I'll smile until Monday. Even in my sleep," he quipped.
Damian flashed him a grin. "Good, good. Just think, who could ever resist us in this place?"
Luke took a bracing breath. "You're right. I'll stop worrying." He wished he had inherited Damian's effortless and unbreakable calm, but he did share his father's optimism. Both he and Damian always believed things would turn out for the best, no matter what happened. Luke, recently, had a hard time holding onto that conviction with the threat of losing the farm and having no income, but he reminded himself as he jogged up the second set of stairs to his room that good things inevitably followed the bad. If this was the worst he would face, then tomorrow would be better.
He laughed at himself for almost thinking, "It's always darkest before the dawn." The expression always seemed overly dramatic to him, and, well, cheesy. But, it fit here, he admitted wryly, and perhaps as early as tomorrow, the dawn would seem much brighter than the sunrise of late.
The car slowed as the drive meandered through the silver maple trees leading to the manor. The ride was quiet as both men let their eyes wander over the extensive grounds, taking in the changing leaves, a small fishing pond, and a stone cottage on the perimeter of the property. Luke's voice cut through the peace, saying "Father, promise me, that if even one person invests in Grimaldi, you'll agree that we don't need Julian."
Luke looked over at his young-looking father, sitting to his left in the back of the beige upholstered car. Square-shouldered and tan from his Mediterranean heritage, Damian Grimaldi was everyone's idea of handsome. He had tousled light brown hair that only recently had shown hints of grey and wide set, steely blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled. His lips were generous, particularly for a man, and it was a trait that his son had inherited. When he flashed his brilliant smile, as he was doing now, he could charm anyone.
"You agree about Julian, right?" Luke asked again when Damian didn't immediately respond. His phone rang before his father could respond to Luke's concern.
"Hey Faithy," Luke answered, smiling broadly. Faith had just turned sixteen and had started checking up on Luke all the time. Luke, for the most part, found it endearing. "We're just about to arrive at the house."
"I just wanted to wish you luck. I know this is really important, even if you try to hide it," Faith replied in a soft and clear voice.
"I'm not trying to hide anything, Faith," he said, glancing quickly at his father. His statement was a complete fabrication-he had never let on to how high the stakes were. And the kids knew next to nothing about Julian Raines.
"I don't like Julian, Luke."
Okay, strike my last thought. Apparently Faith knew something about Julian. Luke replied, "You don't know him, Faith. You haven't even been introduced." Luke could picture Faith rolling her honey brown eyes as he said this.
"I saw some footage of you two online at some gala. He acted like you were a possession," she said testily.
A little exasperated by Faith's interference, Luke ground out, "I promise Julian treats me fine." He knew what video clip she had seen. Julian was being interviewed by a television station about a major investment he had made recently in medical technology when the reporter asked about his date. Julian had smiled at Luke and spoken about how handsome the younger man was-all of which was fine until Julian had shushed Luke when the blonde had tried to speak for himself. It was not Luke's fondest memory of Julian, but it certainly was not enough of a sample that Faith could make an accurate judgment of the man. Everyone has bad moments. Particularly Julian, Luke thought wryly.
"He's also old," Faith sniped.
"He's not that old," Luke countered, entering into the familiar bickering pattern he had with his sister.
Faith audibly harrumphed. "He looks older than Dad or Damian." She said "Damian" with obvious distaste, having never completely trusted Luke's biological father. Even for a sixteen-year-old, Faith was unusually cynical. Her judgments of people were nevertheless astute, but Luke thought she was mistaken on the subject of Damian.
"Well, that doesn't make him old," Luke said tersely. Of course, Luke thought Julian was too old for him, but he wasn't about to tell Faith that. If things did not go well this weekend, it was imperative that his family never know his feelings about Julian.
"Yeah, over twice your age isn't old. Uh huh." Faith's voice was brimming with sarcasm. She continued, "And, why are you dating him? I know he's richer than Grandmother ever could even dream of being, but it's not like you to date someone because they can buy you things. What's going on?"
Luke warned, "Leave it alone, Faith. I need to focus on getting through the party." If Faith was asking why Luke was dating Julian, then she truly had no idea of just how close they were to losing their home. She certainly couldn't suspect the truth that Julian had made his future financial investment in Grimaldi Shipping contingent on Luke's companionship.
"Fine," she sulked, but quickly brightened for her brother's sake. "So what's on tonight's agenda?" Faith could be stubborn, but she didn't want to upset Luke just as the weekend was starting.
Relieved at the change in topic, Luke said eagerly, "It's a nightclub theme with big band music." Damian and Luke had planned the entertainment this weekend to the smallest detail. Tonight would be the Roaring Twenties Gala. The next would feature a speakeasy theme-guests would need a password just to get in the door. During the day, Damian was providing all sorts of entertainment-an elaborate picnic designed to look just like a scene from The Great Gatsby, croquet tournaments, garden tours, massages, etc. Guests would leave Sunday afternoon, following an elaborate brunch. No expense had been spared in creating the social event of the year.
"That sounds fun. Well, for you old folks, anyway."
"Thanks for that," Luke drawled. "I'm not quite using a cane yet." His fingers flicked idly over the crease of his tan trousers as he turned his thoughts from the weekend to his sisters and brother. He asked, "So, how is Jack?" Their cousin helped as much as he could. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to pay off the farm's debts any better than Luke. Between a policeman's salary and four children of his own, there was only so much he could offer, and, besides, Jack was among the many who were not aware of how dire things had become.
Faith chirped, "Great! He and Carly took all the young kids out for ice cream. Parker, Natalie, and I stayed at home."
"No ice cream for you?"
"Not if I want to fit into my prom dress," she replied.
Luke frowned and flattened his hand against his pants. "It's only October, and you haven't even bought a dress yet." Not that Luke knew how they were even going to pay for one at this point. He mentally shrugged off that thought as it pained him too much to contemplate. He couldn't stand the idea of his sister going without something that she really wanted.
"I've got it pictured in my mind, and I need to look my best if I'm going to show any skin."
Luke groaned and said, "I'm going to ignore the part about the skin. We'll talk about the dress on another day. Just mind Carly and Jack this weekend, okay?"
His voice had been slightly choked, but Faith didn't comment on it. "Will do," she said with a little salute that Luke couldn't see . "I'm glad you made it to New York safely. Good luck, even though I know you won't need it." She paused for a moment and softly added, "I worry about you."
"Don't worry, Faith. You know Maddie will be here to look after me." Maddie Coleman was the sole office employee of Grimaldi Shipping. Smart, funny, and a graduate of Wesleyan-the same college Luke had attended for two years--Maddie accepted a job from Damian after college. Between her English degree and the declining economy, she was happy to have any employment that paid better than the minimum wage being offered to her by other companies.
With an exaggerated sigh, Faith replied, "Maddie isn't me, but I guess she'll do."
"I'm glad my best friend gets the stamp of approval. I gotta go, though. Love you, Faith." He glanced out his window to see the ornate stone entrance of Winthrop Manor come into view.
"Love you, too, Luke."
Luke hung up the phone as the car pulled in front of the manor. It had felt strange to have a relatively normal conversation with his sister when so much was going on this weekend. Hanging up the phone felt like saying goodbye to reality thus far and walking into some sort of surreal vision of someone else's life. Of course, nothing had really seemed normal to Luke in the past three years but never had the future had such stark options as now.
As Luke and Damian got out of the car, formally dressed "servants" hurried out of the house to help them inside. Luke looked up at the cloudless sky and felt the brisk October wind. It was perfect weather for the party. The leaves were turning on the trees, but the temperature was slightly warm for this time of year. The cold grey days of October seemed to be magically swept back to another week. Maybe it would be a sign of good things to come.
As they ascended the stairs, Damian put an arm around Luke's shoulders and said, "Cara would be so proud of you." "Cara," meaning "beloved" in Italian, was Damian's name for Luke's mother. Luke never liked the sound of it on Damian's tongue. As far as Luke was concerned, Damian had rarely treated Lily as a beloved wife, and he didn't like Damian using that moniker any more than he liked being called "Luciano." However, Damian, who was willful and sure he was right, never entirely ceased to use both.
Luke took umbrage to the sudden mention of his mother. "My mom is the reason I'm here, Damian. I'd rather not talk about her." In fact, Lily's missteps were the only reason Luke had let Damian in the door three years ago. In retrospect, he was glad he made the choice to work for Damian and had let himself eventually love the man, but that didn't make Lily's mistakes any easier to accept.
"You should forgive her, son. You forgave me."
Damian always defended Lily and while Luke sometimes found that endearing, most of the time, he found it frustrating. "I try, and I know she didn't lose everything intentionally, but she lost everything! Millions, and she just kept spending." It was an old argument, but he and Damian never seemed to tire of it.
"I've lost everything, too," his father replied.
"But you didn't have anyone relying upon you. She had children." Luke winced, knowing that Damian would be hurt by those words. Damian did technically have a son; Luke just never relied upon the idea of a Grimaldi inheritance when he was younger. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it that way," he said, biting his lip.
"It's okay, Luciano. I wasn't there for a lot of your childhood."
"You're here now, though, and that counts for something." Luke had not entirely trusted Damian's unending patience when his father first returned, but over the years, he had decided that Damian's gentle tone was sincere.
The pair walked through the heavy front door of the mansion. The foyer seemed like it was cut out from a picture of the most opulent opera house in Paris or Milan, and Luke was awed by its splendor. The glass mosaic vaulted ceiling was at least forty feet high, and multicolored marble friezes along the hallway's walls led to a grand double staircase of fine grey marble. For a moment, Luke let himself enjoy the scene without thinking about his future or his family's. He paused, breathed in the smell of freshly polished floors, and then walked hurriedly to catch up with Damian.
As Luke peeked into an arched doorway to his left, he could see Louis XVI style furniture in a cream-colored room of Venetian style. A long hallway that led to the east and west wings of the home crossed their paths before the father and son reached the stairs. Luke was uncomfortably aware of each step he took as it made a loud tapping noise against the marble. Damian seemed oblivious to the sound as he glided briskly and confidently. Luke wondered if Damian ever felt awkward in any situation.
It was amazing that this home had once been a private residence, and the cost it would have incurred to build it was unfathomable to Luke. Hell, he wasn't entirely sure how much it cost to rent this place as Damian had taken care of most of the arrangements. Luke had largely been in charge of organizing the entertainment, which was an enormous undertaking, but now he wished he had inquired a little more about the expense of the weekend. As they came to the first landing, Luke asked, "Damian, are you sure we can afford this party, or are we headed directly to debtors' prison?"
"Don't worry, son. No one goes to jail for debts anymore. Besides, this party is going to loosen the pocketbooks of every investor who attends."
Damian spoke with confidence, but Luke still was concerned. His father had not actually answered his question.
Seeing the troubled expression on Luke's face, Damian said, "Don't think of it, Luciano. We have this covered. Just try to enjoy yourself. We can't let people know we're desperate, so you must look like a man who doesn't care about a thing in this world."
Luke nodded. "I know. As soon as it starts, I promise I'll smile until Monday. Even in my sleep," he quipped.
Damian flashed him a grin. "Good, good. Just think, who could ever resist us in this place?"
Luke took a bracing breath. "You're right. I'll stop worrying." He wished he had inherited Damian's effortless and unbreakable calm, but he did share his father's optimism. Both he and Damian always believed things would turn out for the best, no matter what happened. Luke, recently, had a hard time holding onto that conviction with the threat of losing the farm and having no income, but he reminded himself as he jogged up the second set of stairs to his room that good things inevitably followed the bad. If this was the worst he would face, then tomorrow would be better.
He laughed at himself for almost thinking, "It's always darkest before the dawn." The expression always seemed overly dramatic to him, and, well, cheesy. But, it fit here, he admitted wryly, and perhaps as early as tomorrow, the dawn would seem much brighter than the sunrise of late.