Chapter Three #2
“Laugh all you want,” Neo said coolly, soaking his bread in olive juice and feta.
“What they won’t tell you, Helena, is that I recently secured fifty-million dollars in financing after a lively debate with an investor’s wife about whether or not Julie should have stayed with Christopher now that Kelly is back in town after she disappeared to have Mark’s baby and then gave it up for adoption. ”
“Oh, Julie was never going to stay with him!” Jordan baulked. “After his affair with her stepmom last year? Not a chance in hell.”
“Oh, come on, Mom. He thought Carol-Ann was Julie!”
“The first time, maybe…” Jordan muttered, taking another swig of Chardonnay.
Raph elbowed a thoroughly amused Helena. “See what I mean?”
“So, Helena,” Tele piped in, eager to change the subject. “You essentially hunt down priceless art for wealthy collectors?”
“I connect artists with enthusiasts who can appreciate their vision,” Helena corrected.
“They can be wealthy collectors, yes, but sometimes I represent galleries or museums, or even individuals from modest backgrounds who are trying to recover stolen artifacts. And you’d be surprised how many fake pieces are circulating.
Sometimes I’m called to verify authenticity. ”
“That sounds like very rewarding work,” Jordan said. “But I imagine challenging at times.”
“Very, but that’s what makes it fun. For example, last month I spent two weeks tracking down a painter in Manila, who’d suddenly decided he wasn’t going to sell his work to anyone outside of Asia. The fact that my U.S. based client was Indonesian didn’t seem to matter.”
“It sounds like he didn’t want to give up control,” Neo offered.
“No, he did not. Few artists do, but I can’t always blame them.
Too often their vision is cut and copied and interpreted within a context that does not honor its original intentions.
My own mother was very protective of her artistic expression…
and very selective about how her work was shown, so I could understand his position. ”
In that moment, Raph clocked each member of his family watching Helena with wonder in their eyes, and imagined––no, hoped––they were falling in love with her, too.
Her beauty, intelligence, thoughtfulness, and bright spirit had captivated Raph from the start, and it appeared to be having the same effect on his mom and brothers.
“Did you finally convince him to sell?” Neo mumbled with a mouthful of crusted bread.
“Eventually. It took nearly two bottles of his homemade lambanog and a promise that if my client ever wanted to part with the piece, she’d sell only to him or to another Asian buyer.
” Helena’s smile turned mischievous. “Of course, I didn’t mention that my client is in the process of opening a gallery in Indonesia, specifically to house her collection when she eventually retires.
The best deals are the ones where everyone thinks they’re getting exactly what they want. ”
Tele laughed, the sound rich with appreciation as he reached for a handful of salted peanuts, tossing them into his open mouth as though he were at a ballgame. “You’re either incredibly brilliant or just refreshingly honest.”
“Can’t I be both?” Helena shot back, and Raph watched his youngest brother’s face light up with delight.
“Oh, I like her,” Tele announced, raising his wine glass to Raph. “Finally, a woman who can match our family’s finesse.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” Neo asked dryly, over the rim of his glass. “Finesse?”
Tele nodded emphatically “Like when thirteen-year-old Raph told our mother he was ‘expanding his scientific worldview’ instead of admitting he was going out to play poker with a group of fraternity brothers who’d rented the neighboring estate.”
“You didn’t!” Helena turned to Raph with eyes wide.
“Oh, yes he did,” Jordan confirmed with a chuckle.
“I was studying probability theory,” Raph said, his tone deliberately serious. “The poker was just practical application.”
“And the fact that you won three thousand dollars that night?” Jordan asked.
“Happy accident.” Raph grinned as Helena dissolved into laughter, the sound rippling through the room, infecting everyone in its wake.
Tele leaned forward. “Helena, I have an idea. Have you ever played Greek poker?”
“Is that different from regular poker?”
“Oh, completely different.” Tele’s expression was perfectly serious—a tell-tale sign that mischief was on his mind. “Much more complicated. Higher stakes. Requires extensive cultural knowledge.”
Raph recognized the gleam in his brother’s eyes and bit back a smile. “Here we go...”
“What? Don’t you want her to feel like part of the family?” Tele was already on his feet and moving toward the antique wooden cabinet where they kept cards and board games. “Unless you’re afraid she might be better than you.”
“Tele…” Jordan warned, as she and Neo stifled their laughter.
“Mother…” Tele said, producing a deck of cards with a flourish.
Helena studied Tele’s face for a long moment. Finally, she turned to Neo. “Is he trying to trick me?”
Neo nodded in confirmation. “But I don’t think he knows who he’s up against.”
“I’m wounded,” Tele protested, placing his hand over his heart. “Here I am, trying to share our family traditions––”
“There is no such thing as Greek poker,” Helena said flatly, but she was smiling.
“There could be,” Tele countered. “We could invent it. Right now.”
“You want to invent a card game?”
“Why not? Maybe all betting could be done in ancient Greek?”
Helena looked at Tele for a moment, then at the cards in his hands, then back at his expectant face. “Alright,” she said finally. “But you should know, I memorized The Iliad in ancient Greek for a school competition.”
“Oh what? Like, the whole thing?”
“Like, the whole thing,” she echoed.
“Pff. And?” Tele asked with mock exasperation.
“And I won the competition.”
“Of course you did.” Tele couldn’t fight his grin. “Well, come on then, Helen of Troy. Let’s do this.”
As Tele and Helena knelt on the large Turkish carpet beneath the coffee table, their heads bent over the card deck, already deep in animated discussion about their new venture, Jordan scooted across the sofa to take Helena’s place next to Raph.
“She’s good for you,” she said quietly, resting her head on his shoulder.
“You really think so?”
“I know so. And you look...” Jordan paused, lifting her head to study his face. “Lighter. Like you’re not carrying quite so much weight on your shoulders.”
Raph glanced at Helena, who was laughing at something Tele had said, while Neo opened a fresh bottle of wine. “She sees things differently than I do,” he said finally. “Makes me realize I don’t have to control everything to keep it safe.”
“That’s a hard lesson for you to learn.”
“Still learning it.”
Jordan squeezed his arm. “Good. That means you’re growing.”
As if sensing his attention, Helena looked up and caught his eye.
Her smile was soft, private—intended only for him.
She was blending into his world seamlessly, understanding not just him but the people who mattered most to him.
She wasn’t trying to impress anyone or perform some version of herself she thought they’d prefer.
She was simply being Helena—warm, intelligent, slightly mischievous—and his family was embracing her completely.
In that moment, surrounded by his family’s laughter and the golden light of Napa Valley’s harvest season, Raph allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d found something worth the risk of opening his heart completely.