1. Stefan
ONE
Stefan
S ardi’s was the fanciest restaurant in town, with valet service and flickering candles at each table. My younger sister and two brothers refused to dress the part, and I let the argument slide. But after seeing the romantic ambiance, I wished I had fought harder to make them presentable. The men around us wore suits. The women looked elegant, though none compared to my wife.
Amelie was a goddess in a black, knee-length dress with black pumps, though she could wear a potato sack, and no one else would hold a candle. She walked at a leisurely pace, unlike my siblings, who were running chaotically ahead of us.
After my parents passed away, I cursed fate for dealing me a shitty hand. I didn’t even have time to deal with the gut-wrenching grief. My folks had me in their teens and waited until later to expand their family. They left behind three young children, and I had to assume responsibility for them.
Between work, raising three hell-raisers, and taking over my parents’ mortgage, my life was a living hell. The house was a mess, I never had a minute to myself, and my bank account was constantly drained.
But at least fate hadn’t been stingy where my love life was concerned. Even my financial despair couldn’t dim the brilliance of her light.
I mean, just look at her. My sophisticated princess was straight out of sunny California with her dirty blonde hair, freckles across her rosy cheeks, and golden skin stretching over her five-foot-four frame. Sun radiated from her in abundance, but more than that, she was intelligent, optimistic, and down-to-earth.
The best part? She was mine.
She was the most stunning woman in this room—no, the most stunning woman in this world—and she was in my arms. The men were jealous of me and did a double take as we passed their tables.
However, someone stole the spotlight from her—the man we were meeting for dinner.
Kai Cavendish awaited our arrival on the mezzanine balcony overlooking the downstairs. Like Amelie, he wore all black. Few men could get away with the all-black look—suit, tie, and shirt—without looking Goth.
There was something about Mr. Cavendish that sparked curiosity in the rest of the patrons, and all he had done was grant us a glance from the balcony. Everyone stared at him for no apparent reason. In the dimly lit restaurant, he stood out in his sleek hair that matched his outfit. He was tall and confident at six-foot-three, his face exuding a regal aura that demanded respect.
He must be royalty and worth hundreds of millions, perhaps even billions. No wonder there was a commotion around him. The place was buzzing with gossip when I pulled up to the restaurant and handed the keys to my beat-up Camry to the valet.
We overheard two servers in the hallway. “I thought it was against restaurant policy to book private events without twenty-four-hour notice?”
“It’s not an event. Just a dinner for six.”
“The manager shut down the entire upstairs for six people? Wouldn’t the restaurant make more money by keeping it open to the public?”
“Apparently, Cavendish called the owner and offered him a hundred thousand dollars to rent the mezzanine level.”
The other server whistled. “Rich people.”
I hardly knew Kai Cavendish. I only met him yesterday when I picked Amelie up from work. My wife was a nurse, and he was a patient being discharged. She provided him with excellent care after he suffered an unfortunate injury with glass. She had meticulously removed the shattered pieces from his palm, and he wanted to repay the favor.
I knew he was well off when he suggested treating her family to a dinner at this restaurant. We had eagerly accepted, even hoped he would be extra generous and order a bottle of Dom Pérignon, but Mr. Cavendish had surpassed my wildest expectations by dropping a hundred thousand dollars on this dinner.
Money was no object to him, that much had been made apparent. But this kind of obscene money? He was a tribute to extravagance, a testament to wealth and abundance. The other patrons were just as stupefied and curious about the mystery man.
“Who is he?” someone asked.
“They call him the Prince of Darster.”
“A real-life prince?”
“No. No. They just call him that because he owns everything in Darster.”
“Well, he’s hot as hell.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“One of the servers said the manager initially turned him down when he asked to book the upstairs for a private dinner. So he offered them a hundred thousand dollars.”
“You’re kidding.”
“He must be trying to impress a girl.”
“Lucky girl.”
They didn’t bother muting their musings about the man with unlimited resources and openly gawked. Mr. Cavendish didn’t seem bothered by it. It was impossible to touch a man like him. With his type of wealth, he had no connection with the rest of us except for our shared mortality, and even that seemed uncertain. He could have anything and anyone that caught his eye, and real life was impervious to him.
Being rich was one thing, but this level of abundance seemed almost divine. What would life be like if I could also drop a hundred thousand dollars on a meal?
As an office manager, a hundred thousand dollars was two years’ salary. One hundred thousand dollars meant a new car, a vacation, a savings account, and endless possibilities for someone like me. Yet, he was spending it so casually you would think it was the price of coffee. What kind of person could make something so extraordinary seem insignificant?
For once, I didn’t have to speculate from the crowd, wondering about someone like him from afar. I was invited into the inner circle of royalty. It was a good thing, too, because I was hypnotized by his life.
Nonetheless, I didn’t harbor resentment; I was too awestruck to be bitter. Mostly, I wanted Amelie and I to be a part of this lifestyle.
He finally glanced in our direction, and his one look pulled us toward him without him uttering a word or motioning for us to come forward. He looked magnificent with a grin so wide it seemed he had a thousand teeth. Dexterous fingers lifted with poise as he waved at us.
I must have conjured this fantasy to belong in the elite club. Even as we edged to the spiral staircase and the velvety ropes separating the god from the mortals, I had to pinch myself to believe this was real.
A nudge of his head and the security lifted the ropes to let us enter. As we took the stairs, we continued to hear wild theories about Mr. Cavendish. He was larger-than-life, and there was no escaping such a presence. Every table at the restaurant was talking about him.
“I saw him getting out of a Rolls-Royce La Rose Noire Droptail .”
“I didn’t even think they made those cars anymore.”
“Do you think he’s in the mafia?”
“No way.”
“It must be something criminal. How else does he have this kind of money?”
I wanted to come to Mr. Cavendish’s defense for some reason. One glance at him, and you would know he wasn’t in the mafia, nor was he a criminal. A man like him couldn’t be anything but well-bred from birth, and I couldn't resist being pulled in.
But the closer I got to him, the more I felt exposed. Though I had chided my siblings for not dressing the part, my best attempt at dressing up—an old suit with a white button-down—also paled against his custom black suit.
I glanced slyly at Amelie. She was from an affluent family and carried herself like someone with years of refinement. Her family went bankrupt after her father’s untimely death. All that was left from her previous life was a closet full of designer labels. It pained me how long she had gone without an upgrade and how many items in her closet had to be mended to withstand the years of wear and tear. But she managed to put together something decent for a fancy night out.
I couldn’t say the same for myself and wondered whether I had embarrassed her with my cheap outfit. Even the waiters and managers in tuxes were dressed better than me.
I felt increasingly self-conscious as we came face to face with the man who was larger-than-life. He excluded a powerful presence that sucked up all the space in the room.
The Prince of Darster greeted us. “We meet again, Stefan DuBois,” he said, extending his hand.
Was this something rich people did, greet you by your first and last names because it sounded sophisticated?
“Mr. Cavendish,” I greeted, trying to keep my awe at bay as I shook his hand.
“Please, call me Kai.”
I nodded. “This is my sister, Bella.” I held back the six-year-old as she tried leaping toward Kai, then nodded at the twins circling my legs. “And my brothers, Noah and August. Today is their birthday.” Hence, our eagerness to accept this dinner invitation.
Yesterday, Amelie spent hours making paper crowns and baking a cake for the twins. But they were disappointed to learn we couldn’t afford a party. They asked if we could go out for dinner. Amelie took one look at our bank account and had to nix that idea, too. That was when Kai ascended from the heavens and offered to treat us to a luxury restaurant.
“Happy birthday, young men,” Kai said politely to the twins.
“Thank you,” they sang in unison.
“How old are you today?”
Noah held up eight fingers while August was more verbose. “Eight.”
I placed a hand on the small of Amelie’s back. She was the shared connection, and we couldn’t accept this dinner until he acknowledged her contributions to his recovery. Amelie realized the same. “Hello, Mr. Cavendish,” she said with her California-girl smile.
“Call me Kai.” He took her hand and gripped it for a moment.
Before I could assess the exchange, the kids voiced a plethora of complaints.
“My dress itches,” Bella whined. “I told you I didn’t want to wear this.” She glared at me haughtily.
“August is touching me.”
August placed his hand millimeters away from Noah’s face. “I’m not touching you.”
Amelie and I spared exasperated sighs while Kai appeared amused by the exchange. “I had the restaurant set up a kids’ nook,” he told us before turning to the twins. “Do you guys want to check out the chocolate fondue machine?”
Their eyes brightened like it was Christmas.
“Can we?” Bella asked eagerly, eyeing the cascading layers of rich, molten liquid glimmering under the dim lights.
“Y-yes, of course,” Amelie told her, sounding equally surprised by the thoughtfulness Kai had put into this dinner.
Kai guided the children to the other end of the room and introduced them to the restaurant had to offer. The place had everything you would expect at a high-end restaurant: crystal chandeliers, plush velvet chairs, expensive paintings hanging on the walls, intricate gold details on the ceiling, and elaborate flower arrangements on the tables. But it was the children’s attraction that took the cake, a boxwood wall with brightly painted animals, a table filled with arts and crafts supplies, a chocolate fountain, and a kids’ buffet. Someone had set up a tepee with blankets, pillows, and iPads for a cozy movie night. There was even a koi pond with orange and gold colored fish.
When Kai noticed our incredulous expressions, he explained, “This restaurant’s famous for entertaining kids during private events. That’s why I chose it. They even provide an on-site babysitter.”
Was this the life of a zillionaire? A simple dinner for them equated to a private event where every detail had been meticulously planned.
“Wow.” We had mentally prepared to entertain the kids throughout dinner and hadn’t expected the thoughtfulness of a caregiver.
“This is Sasha, the babysitter,” Kai introduced when a tall brunette approached us. “She has done multiple gigs at this restaurant, and I’ve already vetted her references. I hope you don’t mind.”
Amelie and I glanced at each other. Mind? We rarely had a night out. This had turned into a mini retreat.
“This is all very thoughtful,” I told him. “Thank you.”
He laughed. “I should be saying that to your wife. She was the one who saved my favorite hand.” Kai held up his palm, a fresh scar running a zigzag line across it. He had sustained a hand injury when a large piece of glass got lodged in his palm, and he was rushed to the hospital.
I nodded, and Amelie turned red at the compliment.
The kids sprinted to each attraction with Sasha in tow before settling on the buffet for mac ’n’ cheese, nuggets, and fries. We were led to the ‘adult’ table, where we were given menus with pretentious adult foods and fifty-dollar cocktails made tableside.
As we browsed the menu, the kids laughed loudly with Sasha at the opposite corner of the room. They sounded thrilled at the goods we could never otherwise afford. Servers roamed around them with trinkets like toys, mini cakes, and Disney-themed mocktails. Even the managers spared no effort to keep them occupied. The adult section was segregated from the kids, and clearly the staff had been instructed to give us space.
Odd.
What kind of conversation did Kai plan on having that required such privacy? It was my first time at a place like this, so perhaps I was making too much of it. Still. There was something orchestrated about how effortlessly everything fell into place.
The server wheeled in a bar cart to make our cocktails tableside, interrupting my pondering. Smoke from the liquid nitrogen evaporated into the air, yet he didn’t make a sound throughout the dog and pony show. Rich people were allergic to the clinking of glassware, so you weren’t allowed to make noise while attending to their needs. Every item was noiselessly dropped off at our table, and dirty glasses were cleared too stealthily to notice.
Throughout cocktails, Kai spoke of his successful tech company. He also owned hotels, restaurants, apartment buildings, vintage cars, planes, you name it. I struggled to keep up with his accomplishments. He was determined to leave an impression on us, or at least on me, which caught me off guard since I had anticipated on doing the opposite to impress Amelie’s affluent patient.
The conversation lulled, and I found myself analyzing Kai. He watched Amelie and me like a hawk, as if dissecting our interactions and calculating how to use them to his advantage.
I was overthinking, I reassured myself. I wasn’t used to eccentric moguls, that was all.
Amelie placed her warm hand over mine, aware of my inclinations. She could tell I was in my head and carried the conversation.
“You know… I had no idea you were such a big deal,” Amelie told Kai. “Perhaps it’s a good thing. I would’ve been way too nervous to change the wound dressing of the man who manufactured my phone.”
“Glad you finally solved the mystery.”
“More like I caught the other nurses gossiping about you.”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “You’ve piqued my interest. I love hearing what people say about me when I’m not around. It’s when they’re the sincerest.”
She waved it off with her right hand. “It was just things they found online. Nurses become extra nosy whenever we get a hot patient.” Amelie zipped her lips upon realizing she had just called this man ‘hot.’
Kai didn’t react to the unintentional compliment. “What did they find?”
“Is it true you’re, like, a zillionaire?” Once more, she looked horrified as soon as the words left her lips, realizing it was an inappropriate question.
The servers arrived with our order, saving Kai from answering the question. Amelie looked miserable with herself. Her attempt at casual conversation was failing because she had been starstruck since discovering his accomplishments.
While other men might be threatened by their wives being slightly enamored by a ‘hot,’ wealthy man, our relationship was more evolved than petty jealousy. We were high school sweethearts and married right out of college. She was from a rich family and out of my league in every way. Once upon a time, I was convinced I could close the social gap between us. I had a knack for travel photography in college and even won several competitions. I sold some pieces to collectors and had big plans to travel the world to create a portfolio. But then my parents passed away in a fatal car accident, and I settled for a job that covered health insurance for five.
I had grown bitter over time, and my beautiful wife had started to notice. This wasn’t the life I had envisioned for us at twenty-three, and I worried Amelie would eventually resent me for dragging her into this pit stain.
Nonetheless, she had stuck with me. We had been together for seven years, and she was still the person I was most excited to see. We were comfortable enough to tease one another if we suspected the other was harboring a harmless crush. Because Amelie had a theory that even God himself couldn’t break us up, so what was a mere mortal?
Rather than feel threatened, I felt bad for my wife. Though she came from a prominent family, Amelie hadn’t met someone of Kai’s caliber. None of us had. He was in his early thirties and had made waves. It was normal to be starstruck.
Yet here I was, making things worse, silently contemplating over random observations. Kai had been nothing but generous throughout dinner. To be gracious, Amelie and I kept our order to a minimum, but Kai insisted on adding several more dishes, ordering numerous rounds of cocktails and the most expensive wines on the menu.
I kept calm, showing no traces of astonishment as the waiters dropped off the types of dishes I had never dared to dream of—caviar, lobster, tomahawk steak, crabs, oysters, bluefin tuna, and truffles to top it off.
Suddenly, I wanted to kick myself. Why was I squandering away a good time by second guessing a nice gesture? It had been eons since I took my wife out on town.
I decided to put away my unfound suspicions and come to my wife’s rescue. I playfully chucked her under the chin. “What else did the nurses find from the mighty Google other than Kai’s net worth?”
She gave me a grateful look. “Lots of things, except for the one thing they wanted to find.” Her eyes lingered on Kai. “You have never been photographed with a date. Reclusive tech mogul who had never been linked to a woman… or a man; it’s bound to cause some curiosity.”
“Does that make me more interesting?” he asked.
“Most definitely. The nurses lost it when they found out about this dinner. They’ll hound me about it and riot if I don’t give them something juicy.”
That made him laugh. “It seems a person is only valued for their personal life, not their professional accomplishments.”
“Or, perhaps they were interested in your personal life because they were impressed by your professional one,” she countered.
“You have a way with words, Ms. Valentine.”
“It’s Mrs. DuBois,” Amelie corrected offhandedly when Kai addressed her by her maiden name. “And I’m simply providing you with a different perspective.”
It was weird Kai knew Amelie’s maiden name. She had changed it after we got married, but perhaps she never updated the paperwork at the hospital. The name change process was complicated to say the least.
Kai turned to me. “I’m curious about your take. Do you think someone’s preference in partner has an impact on their personality, life, and accomplishments?”
I shrugged. “It does paint a picture. Do you have a type?”
He didn’t answer.
“Oh, I know.” Amelie leaned forward enthusiastically. “Who’s your celebrity crush?”
“Hm. I can’t think of anyone. Do you have a celebrity crush, Stefan?” Kai asked, turning the tables on me. “Maybe I can steal yours.”
I discreetly assessed him. I thought we had broken the ice, but his comment was full of innuendoes.
Maybe I can steal yours.
“I like that singer, Leigh Brighton.”
Amelie laughed. “Like? You’re obsessed with her. He had, like, a million posters of her when we were in high school,” she told Kai.
He glanced at Amelie’s dark blonde waves. “I didn’t take you for a redhead man.”
Amelie rolled her eyes. “Don’t change the subject. If you can’t think of a celebrity, think of someone from real life. No one ever caught your eye?”
“If you must know, there was a woman.”
“Was?” I asked, realizing too late that perhaps he was referring to a dead wife or girlfriend, and we had invited some unpleasant memories. I closed my eyes. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“Don’t be, it was years ago.” He took a long, slow sip of his Manhattan as if biding his time. “My company used to recruit new hires at university campuses. I was invited as the keynote speaker for one of the job fairs and saw her. I was immediately smitten. She was one of a kind, the type that can stop traffic but also looks like the girl next door.”
“What happened to her?” Amelie asked tentatively, unsure if he was recounting the events of a dead girlfriend.
He chuckled at her apprehensive glance. “Don’t look so mortified. She’s alive and well.”
“Oh. So…”
“Back then, we had too big of an age gap. She was a freshman in college, and I was the CEO of a thriving company. The optics were bad, and the media would have had a field day if they thought I was preying on a young, impressionable female student.”
Amelie appeared unconvinced and called him out. “I don’t believe you,” she announced decisively. “What’s the real reason you stayed away from her?”
He gave her a crooked smile as if expecting the very reaction. “She was innocent and skittish around strangers and men in general.”
“Every woman is wary of strange men,” she asserted. That was the thing about her. She looked like Little Ms. California—sunny and bright—so no one caught on to her shrewd nature. She never let people off the hook if she saw through their bullshit.
Kai lifted a shoulder. “I couldn’t predict how she’d react to a grown man and didn’t want to start on the wrong foot. I wanted to learn about her first and approach her in a way that wouldn’t scare her off.”
“And did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Learn about her?”
He dwelled on a thought before speaking. “You’d be surprised by how well you can get to know someone despite never having a proper conversation with them. There is something to the power of observation. I watched her interactions, and soon, I knew her like the back of my hand. Optimistic but a straight shooter, hardheaded yet reasonable, compassionate but not a pushover. Fiercely loyal. Her moral compass was based on her situation rather than predetermined values. She didn’t stick to something simply because that’s how she was raised. She adapted based on what her circumstances demanded. I loved her flexibility the most because people either died with their archaic values or didn’t have them to begin with.”
I glanced at Amelie. That was how I saw Amelie.
“This is all so romantic,” Amelie awed. “I can’t believe she left such an impression that you’re still thinking about her after all this time.”
I beamed at her. My lovely wife tended to romanticize things. Even if Kai had told her it was a simple crush, Amelie would have turned it into a Disney fairy tale. But in this case, she was on the money. Kai seemed smitten with a woman he had met eons ago.
“Did you ever tell her how you felt?” she asked.
He tilted his head. “She was all I thought about, every second of every day until it became unbearable. I decided it was time to approach her. But that was before?—”
“Before?”
“Before I saw her with her boyfriend.”
I blinked, finding it outlandish there was a woman Kai Cavendish couldn’t get. “What happened then?” I asked.
“She got married,” he replied, voice devoid of emotion.
Silence befell us, and Amelie’s lashes dropped like someone had given her the worst possible news. There was a finality to the word marriage, leaving no hope for a jilted lover.
Nevertheless, my sweet wife’s empathy worked overtime. “That’s so sad. I—I mean, maybe not for her if she loves her husband, but… it’s just so sad.” She had already built a fantasy world around Kai’s love story and didn’t know how to console him or herself.
I inwardly chuckled at the pitiful look she wore, like a kid who had been told Santa wasn’t real. Amelie badly wanted everyone else to be as madly in love as us.
Kai laughed, catching on to Amelie's tendency to romanticize things. She was rooting for his love story to come true. “Don’t look so devastated, otherwise I’ll have to show up at her doorstep and beg her to leave her husband.”
“Do you think she would?” she asked curiously, surprising me. Amelie was usually a champion for the sanctity of marriage.
Amelie winced belatedly, realizing the same.
Kai was the only one to not react. “No,” he spoke with conviction as if he had done a virtual simulation and artificial intelligence had predicted the outcome. Or perhaps he had tried it out, and it didn’t go his way?
I wouldn’t mind meeting the woman who wouldn’t leave her husband for Kai Cavendish. Now, that was true love.
“You sound certain,” Amelie commented.
“I am. She isn’t that kind of woman, and I wouldn’t have loved her if she was.”
It was a heavy comment. The irony of it made me want to laugh, though the moment was somber. Kai Cavendish loved a woman because she was loyal and honorable. It was also the reason why he couldn’t be with her.
Amelie, the forever optimist, tsked. “So what do you plan to do? You can’t remain single for the rest of your days just because she is married.”
“That’s no way to live.” I couldn’t help offering the unsolicited advice.
Kai's gaze toward Amelie softened while his words for me were carefully chosen and delivered slowly. “I never said that was how I planned on living my life.”
Amelie perked up. “Good. I say out with the old and in with the new. Maybe we can set you up with someone.” She started listing her college friends, none of whom she’d had the time to meet up with since graduation. We worked too damn much for reunions.
Not that it mattered. A man like Kai Cavendish had endless options. If he wanted to date, a girl would be delivered to his table within seconds. Hadn’t he noticed the women staring at him from downstairs?
However, I wasn’t about to burst my enthusiastic wife’s bubble. I spoke after she listed all the nurses at her hospital in alphabetical order and finally took a breath.
“Okay. You don’t want to remain single, but you haven’t given dating a chance either. I’m guessing you’ve thought of a third option. An unconventional plan, perhaps?”
He watched me momentarily, then ended the conversation with a simple, “Let’s call it a work in progress.”