Chapter 23 #2
“With the nanny during dinner,” Reagan answered. “But as soon as I have a free hand, I’ll bring her out to show her off.”
“Two free hands right here.” Simone wiggled her fingers. “I’ll eat fast, and you can pass her over to me.”
“We were just talking about my upcoming trip to Portugal,” O interrupted. “You should come with me.”
Dante shot his father a glare, but his mother laughed off the suggestion. “I’m en route to LA and then Canada. I couldn’t possibly.”
“What’s the hurry, Dad?” Dante asked. “Didn’t you open this restaurant a few weeks ago? Then again, I guess acquiring is the fun part for you. Sticking around to see things through isn’t your strong suit.”
The table went silent. Forks and knives froze mid-motion.
Undeterred, Octavius refilled his wine glass. “That’s what managers are for, son. You might have committed to that foundation like it was your firstborn, but that’s not necessary. I tried to show you how to live effortlessly when you kids were growing up.”
Simone opened her mouth to respond, likely in Dante’s defense. He shook his head at his mother. He had this. Her intervention wasn’t going to help.
“It’s not a question of delegation,” he told O. “It’s about taking responsibility for your choices.”
“You’ve turned sacrifice into an art,” O said. “It ain’t that deep.”
Oh, that was rich. The man had left everything in his life behind, including Dante’s mother.
Dante had heard enough tonight. “Excuse me.”
He tossed his napkin down, pushed away from the table, and exited to the balcony.
The moment he stepped outside to catch his breath he could have kicked his own ass for letting his father rile him up.
There were unsaid, unresolved issues between them, but he never should have continued that shit in the middle of a family dinner.
He heard the door to the balcony open behind him, figuring either his mother or Honesty had followed him out. When he turned, he was surprised to find his father standing there, two glasses of whiskey in his hands. He offered Dante one of them.
“You have an axe to grind with me?” O asked. “Let’s have it.”
“I’m not you.” Dante waved off the glass. He turned and leaned on his forearms on the stone partition separating the balcony and watched the traffic below.
“And by that you mean…” Octavius stood beside him, rested Dante’s glass on the ledge, and waited.
“I don’t abandon people, for one.” Dante reached for the glass, figuring a dose of whiskey couldn’t hurt this conversation.
He took a slug, savoring the burn of the liquid in his throat.
“I don’t drop in, turn on the charm, and disappear while leaving everyone to pick up the pieces. Loyalty means something to me.”
His father hummed, and then took his place next to Dante, leaning on the ledge overlooking the city. “What do you think you’re doing with Honesty?”
“Don’t,” Dante growled, but his father didn’t listen.
“Are you not dropping in, charming her, and disappearing again? To use your words.”
“I’m helping her with her venture.”
“And helping yourself.”
“We’re helping each other. I am not going to abandon her. She accepted the grant. We’re linked via the Moretti Foundation.”
“She’ll have support from the staff, I presume. Just like this restaurant. The Silver Fox has a staff too. And it ain’t me. I care about this place, but I also understand that my being here won’t help. Hell, it might hurt. What do I know about running a restaurant?”
“Honesty isn’t a restaurant,” Dante snapped.
“Yes, but you know as well as I do that the fun part is the hunt. The pursuit. What comes after is maintenance. And that is not fun.”
He was impossible. Dante shook his head.
“Don’t get me wrong,” O continued. “I admire the way you have grown your grandfather’s foundation. And your mother did need help with the board position. I get it.”
“But?” Dante rarely heard a compliment from his father without a caveat.
“But. You’ve proven you can do it. The foundation can run itself now. If your staff is halfway decent. Are they?”
“Of course they are. I placed most of them myself.”
“Precisely. And you and I both know that your mother is capable of caring for herself. She is one of the most sought-after costume designers in the world. She’s self-contained, and dashing from movie set to movie set.
So, who are you staying in LA for, son? Isn’t it time to step into the life you want to live?
Your life, rather than hers or your grandfather’s? ”
“I am living the life I want to live,” Dante gritted out, even though he didn’t owe his father an explanation.
“You stay because it’s familiar. Familiar feels safe. But safety is the opposite of growth.”
“I’m not running a foundation or living in LA to feel safe. I stay because that’s where I’m needed.”
“Your mother doesn’t need anyone. She never needed me.” Octavius’s mouth turned down in the corners, a sign that he was starting to get irritated.
Fine by Dante. He had been irritated for a while.
“Your mother was the one who told me she never wanted to settle down. And she was the first woman I seriously considered settling down with, so that was a blow. Turned out to be a blessing. If I’d have married Simone, I wouldn’t have had Jaylyn.
We have to trust life when it throws us curveballs.
The trick is knowing when to step out of the way so you don’t get hit by one. ”
“Does that mark the end of your TED Talk?” Dante hated when his father tried to be philosophical. As if every conversation was a chance to impart his singular wisdom.
“For now.”
“Well, then. Enjoy Portugal. Thanks for dinner.” Dante polished off the whiskey and left behind the empty glass.