Chapter 19
Shane
"She's gone cold again," I say to Balina, frustration lacing my voice. "Just when we were getting closer, she's opening up, and we have this amazing night of passion on the yacht, she starts looking off into the distance again like she's a million miles away."
"Small steps are still steps, Shane," Balina responds. Her tone is gentle but firm. "You have to be patient until she's ready to tell you what's wrong."
"I just want her to tell me what's wrong so I can help her and we can move past this," I say, rubbing my temples. The uncertainty gnaws at me.
"I know, but you have to give her space to work through her own things," Balina advises.
"Why can't I just tell her how I feel? That I know she's got her personal life, and I want what's best?" I ask.
Balina interrupts, saying, "You don't know what's best for her yet. And maybe she doesn't, either. People like figuring things out independently, especially when they're involved with someone perceived as successful and powerful like you, Shane. You might not realize it, but you can be intimidating. Your image is that of success, wealth, and fame. Even if it's not entirely true, that's how people see you. Trust me, being with someone always in the spotlight makes people worry about not fitting in or belonging with us. They feel like they have to be someone they're not just to keep up, when the truth is it's usually us who are the ones that need to adjust."
I sigh, letting her words sink in. Balina's right. Nicole's been through a lot, and she probably feels she has to handle it alone.
Balina pauses, her voice softening. "Look at me, going on a rant."
"Yeah, save some for your legion of followers, will you?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
Balina laughs heartily. "Twelve million strong," she says proudly. "How's your three doing?"
"It's 3.3 million now, Balina," I reply with mock pride.
Balina claps her hands on the other end of the line, and I can't help but chuckle.
"So, do we have anything special planned? Any surprises?" Balina asks.
"Well, Antonio Conti's coming over tonight and making dinner for all of us," I reply.
"Antonio Conti, he's busy," she says. "How did you manage to set that up?"
"He's just an old family friend. I guess it's one of the perks of being a rich and famous person," I say jokingly.
A buzz on my phone interrupts my thoughts. "Hold on a second, Balina," I say, checking the message. It's Kristen.
"Shane, there's a Dr. Wilks on the phone. From East Bay Dental."
I quickly switch the line back to Balina. "Hey, I've got to run. Talk soon?"
"Of course, Shane. Take care," she replies.
I click over to Kristen. "Put him through, Kristen," I say, bracing myself for the conversation.
"Mr. Matthews," an older man's voice greets me. "This is Dr. Wilks. I was calling because your nephew Jaime missed his appointment today."
I groan inwardly, remembering something about Jaime's dental appointment but forgetting the exact day. "I apologize, Doctor. The nanny usually handles these things. I'll give her a call and see about rescheduling. Will that work?"
"Yes, Mr. Matthews. We look forward to hearing from you soon."
After hanging up, I dial Nicole.
"Hey, Shane," she answers, her voice calm but tinged with something I can't quite place.
"Hey, I got a call from Jaime's dentist. He had an appointment today, and they want to reschedule."
Nicole sighs heavily. "I completely forgot, Shane. I'm so sorry. I've just... I've had a lot going on."
"It's fine, Nicole. We can reschedule. Is everything alright? I just want to make sure you're okay."
"Yeah, I'm just figuring some things out. I promise this won't happen again."
Her voice carries a weight of distress that I can't ignore. "Look, I was thinking we could go camping with Jaime this weekend. I know a place—"
"Sorry, Shane. I'm not really up to it. I just want to ground myself around here before I go off getting lost in the woods."
I can tell she's struggling with the excuse, her voice betraying her uncertainty. "Umm... sure, Nicole. You do that. If you want a day off or some alone time, just me and you, just say the word."
"I know, Shane, and I do. I just need a bit of space right now. I haven't been well. And I need you to know it's nothing to do with you. You guys are everything to me," she emphasizes, her sincerity piercing through the phone.
"Just don't hesitate to reach out if things get hard. I'll see you later?"
"Yeah, Shane," she says softly. "See you later."
At lunch, I'm at my desk, Oliver across from me, ready with his computer open. I try to push thoughts of Nicole aside, focusing on the meeting with one of our longest-standing clients. I need to be 100% focused, but Nicole's distant voice keeps echoing in my head.
I lean back in my office chair, take a deep breath, and dial Natalie Gates's number. The phone rings twice before she picks up, her voice sharp and to the point.
"Good morning, Shane," she greets, skipping the pleasantries. "I appreciate you calling. I wanted to discuss some concerns I have about the recent changes in your supply chain."
"Good morning, Natalie," I reply, keeping my tone as calm as possible. "I'm here with Oliver, and we wanted to personally address any concerns you might have. You're one of our long-standing clients, and your satisfaction is extremely important to us."
"Well, let me get straight to it, then," she says. "I understand you've cut ties with a trusted supplier due to some legal issues they're currently facing. I'm aware of the accusations against them, but isn't it a bit premature to sever a reliable partnership based on what could be just rumors?"
I anticipated this. "I understand your concern, Natalie, but the decision wasn't made lightly. The accusations against them are serious—neglect of oversight in their management, and there are credible reports linking their supply lines to unethical practices, including child labor. I can't risk Vesitech being associated with that."
Natalie's silence on the other end of the line makes the air in my office feel heavier. "That's a serious claim, Shane," she finally says. "But I have to wonder if it's wise to distance your company from a long-standing partner over unconfirmed allegations. You know as well as I do that rumors can be damaging, often more than the truth itself."
I know exactly the history she's referring to. Robert. The unspoken rumor that still haunts Vesitech. I've worked tirelessly to distance the company from that and rebuild trust and integrity, but this is the first time anyone has directly brought it up to me, especially in a context like this.
"I'm fully aware of how damaging rumors can be, Natalie," I say, choosing my words carefully. "But this isn't just about rumors. It's about the lack of oversight and the potential damage that the association could bring to Vesitech's reputation. We've vetted our new supplier thoroughly, and I'm confident they can meet our needs without compromising our values."
I signal Oliver, and he jumps in. "Ms. Gates, our new supplier has been recognized for their ethical practices. They've maintained a stellar reputation, and are known for their efficiency and reliability. We believe this transition will be not only smooth, but beneficial for all parties involved."
Natalie listens, but cuts him off. "Shane, I'd expect you to understand better than anyone the compromising situations companies can find themselves in because of rumors. I'll have to think this over carefully."
Her tone tells me she's unconvinced, and I can feel the tension tightening in my chest. Nicole's distant voice from earlier creeps back into my thoughts, and I wonder if I should have pushed harder and asked her more. But I know it's not the right time. I don't want to lose her, but I'm unsure how to keep her close.
"I understand, Natalie. I'm always here if you have more questions or need further reassurance. Your trust in us is something we don't take for granted."
"Thank you, Shane," she says, her voice measured. "I'll be in touch."
The call ends, and I set the phone down, running a hand through my hair. My thoughts are in disarray. Nicole's pulling away, and I'm helpless to stop it. I'm going to save this relationship, no matter what it takes—and hopefully keep Vesitech intact while I'm at it.
The scent of fresh-baked pizza greets me as I approach the front door of the estate. Inside, I hear Antonio's familiar voice, slightly muffled, delivering one of his passionate rants in the kitchen.
Walking in, I find him near the stove, his bright white chef's coat pristine under the overhead lights. He's in his element, commanding the room as always.
"There are two vital components to a perfect sauce," Antonio says, his intense gaze focused on Jaime. "You know what they are?"
Jaime, perched on a stool at the counter next to Nicole, thinks momentarily. "Hmmm... tomatoes and garlic?"
"Nope," Antonio responds with a knowing smile. "It's a gentle hand and a love for cooking."
As I enter, all eyes turn to me.
"Mr. Shane, welcome home," Antonio greets me warmly.
"Hey, Antonio," I reply, matching his enthusiasm. "Thanks for coming by."
"The pleasure is all mine, sir. I've been training my junior chef here on how to make real Italian food," he says, nodding toward Jaime.
"You think he's ready to work?" I joke.
" Sicuramente ," Antonio replies in Italian, pride in his voice. "Such a fast learner. Just wait till you try his dessert."
"Yeah, Uncle Shane. Antonio showed me how to make cannoli," Jaime adds, his excitement palpable.
"Hey, I helped too," Nicole chimes in, her smile genuine and refreshing—a sight I've missed more than I realized.
"I can't wait," I say, sitting next to Jaime at the counter, feeling a warmth beyond the kitchen's heat.
As expected, Antonio continues to be the life of the conversation at dinner, sharing stories from his time in Italy and his culinary adventures. Jaime listens with wide-eyed fascination, hanging on to every word. Nicole, though smiling and engaged, remains mostly quiet.
Antonio notices and tries to draw her out. "Nicole," he says with a twinkle in his eye, "you must miss the food back home. There's nothing quite like real Italian cuisine, right?"
Nicole nods, her smile polite. "Yes, I do miss it. But your cooking tonight was a wonderful reminder."
" Grazie ," Antonio replies, switching to Italian for a moment. " Mi fa piacere sentirlo. E la tua città? è un bel posto? "
Nicole's eyes flicker with something—perhaps nostalgia or something deeper—but she keeps her answer brief. " Sì, era bello ," she says softly, her voice almost lost in the clatter of dishes.
Antonio studies her for a moment but doesn't press further, turning his attention back to Jaime, who is eagerly finishing his plate.
As dinner winds down, Antonio stands to leave. "Well, my friends, it's been a pleasure. But I must return to my kitchen before they start to wonder if I've retired."
Jaime jumps up, his face lighting up with excitement. "When will you come back, Antonio? I want to learn more recipes!"
Antonio chuckles, patting Jaime on the head. "We'll see, little chef. I'll talk to your Uncle Shane, but if you really want to see me, maybe you can convince them to bring you by the restaurant sometime, eh?"
Jaime's eyes sparkle at the idea, and he turns to me with a pleading look. "Can we, Uncle Shane?"
"We'll see, buddy," I say, smiling at his enthusiasm.
Nicole takes Jaime's hand, gently leading him away to get ready for bed. "Come on, little chef. It's time for bed. We'll dream about all the desserts you'll make next time."
As they disappear down the hallway, I grab the remaining cooking supplies and follow Antonio out to his car. As I help Antonio load the last of the supplies into his trunk, the cool night air does little to calm the unease gnawing at me.
"Antonio," I start, closing the trunk, "what did you think of Nicole?"
He looks at me with a knowing smile. "She's lovely, Shane. Fun, kind, and she clearly cares a lot about you and Jaime."
I nod, but the unease doesn't dissipate. "Did you notice she was... I don't know, a bit reserved? I thought she might open up more with you, especially when you spoke to her in Italian."
Antonio leans against the car, folding his arms, his expression turning serious. "Shane, friend to friend, it doesn't seem like she wants to open up. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, but it's something to be aware of."
"Do you think it's because of where she's from?" I ask, trying to piece together the puzzle.
Antonio sighs, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. "She's from a tough place in Italy. People from those areas often carry things with them—memories, experiences—they'd rather leave behind. It's not uncommon for them to be apprehensive about talking about their past."
His words hit close to home, aligning with the worries simmering in the back of my mind. What if Nicole's past involves more than just painful memories? I can't shake the thought of what she might have gone through to get here, the kind of deals she might have made. I've heard stories of immigrants bartering for visas, getting tangled up with the wrong people, the kind that come knocking when it's time to collect. Could Nicole be in danger? And if she is, does that mean Jaime could be at risk, too?
I push the thought away, feeling a twinge of guilt. It feels wrong even to think about it and question how someone got here. Immigrants have it hard enough without being judged for the lengths they might go to for a better life. But the fear lingers, gnawing at the edges of my mind. I don't want to believe Nicole is involved in anything illegal, but the uncertainty is there, and it's eating at me.
Antonio, sensing my inner turmoil, claps me on the shoulder, his smile returning. "Focus on building new experiences with her. Better experiences. She's sweet, she's here, and she's with you. That's what matters."
I nod, shaking his hand. "Thanks, Antonio. I appreciate the advice."
"Any time, Shane. Take care of yourself, and them." He gets into his car, giving me a final wave before driving off into the night.
As I watch him disappear down the driveway, my phone buzzes with an email from our doubtful investor, Natalie. I glance at it, my heart sinking as I scan the words. The phrase "no longer in good faith to continue our investment" jumps out at me.
I don't even bother reading the rest. The frustration I've been trying to suppress all day boils over, and I know I won't be able to sleep like this. I need to clear my head. Without another thought, I head for my car, hoping that a long night drive will help me sort through everything—how to save my relationship with Nicole and how to keep the business afloat.
Both feel like they're slipping through my fingers, and I'm not sure which one scares me more.