“I know”—he briefly smooches my lips—“but I’m not. Call me old-fashioned.”
“Pfff…” I cross my arms at his incorruptible values. “What if he doesn’t accept?”
“He will.” I don’t know what he has in mind, but I trust him. He reaches for my hand, brings it to his lips, and places a tender kiss on it. “I love you, Ms. Van Gatt.”
I feel my heart enflame at his words, and I can’t help but blush. After all, they are still so new to me. So unbelievably new.
Chapter 18
Columbia Economics, November 22, 2019
Petra Van Gatt
The first snow of winter has finally arrived in Manhattan, blanketing the city in white. Winter has always been my favorite season. Everything is more magical in winter, more beautiful, more pure, I think with a smile, my pendant between my fingers. Exams are a month and a half away, and with at least five books to read, it’s the perfect time to focus on them. But Alex is all I can think about. His touch has always been different from any of my previous encounters, more gentle, more mature, more protective and confident. The pleasure he gave me in Rio was beyond anything I had ever experienced before, and, unlike his predecessors, I trust him entirely, blindly. But this seems quite normal to me. After all—and most importantly—I’m terribly and profoundly in love with him. But Alex has made it clear he won’t make love before talking to Dad, and despite my many attempts, he seems to be as decided as ever. He asked me to focus on my studies, and on my upcoming exams. He knows Dad will give me that week off for my birthday if I spend the entire semester working hard. Maybe we could go somewhere… I sigh. An entire week away, just him and me far away from here. What a dream. I can picture what we—
“Ms. Van Gatt?” I blink at the voice and look back at Mrs. Chilnisky standing right in front of me. “Might you tell us why governmental policies are essential to ensure a healthy economy?”
I glance around. My classmates are all staring, waiting for an answer. I swallow hard. I have absolutely no idea but decide to improvise. “I’m not sure they are. After all, looking back through history, we can see many that are quite harmful.”
The class nods at my reply, but Mrs. Chilnisky not so much. “We are not here for a debate, Ms. Van Gatt. But since you feel inspired, I want a dissertation on the subject on my desk next week. All sources cited and credited.” I wince. “Next time be attentive in class, so you can avoid extra work.”
We hear the bell ring. The class is finally over. I feel so angry and disappointed with myself. After all, I’ve never been distracted in class to the point of being caught.
“Girl, what was that?” teases Matthew. “You didn’t read the books I texted you?”
“Hey. No, not yet,” I admit, feeling even more embarrassed now. “I’m going to the library to prepare my dissertation on why I’ve got a big mouth and say stupid things in class.”
We burst into laughter.
“I’ve missed that humor,” he replies, his face beaming with joy.
As we are walking to the door, I feel him hesitate. “You may join me if you want.” He smiles, radiant. “We are friends, after all.”
Gatt-Dieren Capital, November 22, 2019
Alexander Van Dieren
It’s hard not to think about her, to resist her kisses, her laughter, her fondles. She seems so innocent, and yet she’s given me more pleasure than any woman before. Pleasure without penetration, without blow jobs, without even touching me. But she doesn’t need to do any of that to make me sweat, to make me lose my mind, and to make me cum. After all, I know it’s not about sex, games, or anything like that. My heart is at her mercy. I trust her entirely with it, even blindly. But strangely enough, I’m not afraid. It just feels right. I picture something in my mind. Something that makes me smile as I look at the financial audit, but it’s not because of the positive results.
“Well, looks like Monday we are finally good to sign,” I declare.
“Indeed,” replies Roy, attentively scanning the last details of the contract. “We will need to go to Singapore following the acquisition, elect the new board and new management, and meet with those government officials who made the deal quite a bit easier.”
“I know.”
“We have to thank everyone who made this possible, and show them our support,” adds Roy.
“I’m hosting a celebration at my estate following the signing. I thought about doing it in a restaurant, or somewhere here in Manhattan, but inviting them over will create a deeper bond.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. Indeed, we always need them on our side.”
“Exactly.” I take a sip of my water. “Roy,” I say assertively, “I need to talk to you privately in my office after the celebration. Maria will escort you.”
Roy raises both eyebrows. “What is it about?” He looks intently at me, his eyes worried. “Don’t tell me you intend to move to Singapore and be the new managing director?”
I shake my head in amusement. “No. It has nothing to do with work.”
“Personal?” He thinks further. “You and Rafaela?”
“No. We’re not together. She was just for fun.” But Roy doesn’t stop there—he gets even more worried. “Are you sick?”
I can’t stop laughing. “Roy, relax. We’ll talk next week. I’m healthy, I’m not leaving New York, and it’s not Rafaela. It’s all good. Now, if you excuse me, I’ve got a meeting.” I stand up from my chair and give him a soft pat on his shoulder.
“Very well…” He sighs in annoyance, knowing he’ll have to wait until next week to find out. “In case I don’t see you again today, have a great evening. And enjoy the weekend,” he says a bit louder as I leave his office.
Bedford Hills, November 25, 2019
Roy Van Gatt
The dinner has brought together the entire management division of Gatt-Dieren Capital, the team from our new acquisition, the lawyers and auditors who made it possible, and some government officials from Singapore. Alex was right—everyone seems delighted to visit his estate. I’m as radiant as ever, enjoying and savoring the moment, my eyes glittering as I think about the big capital expansion and how 2020 will be an even more profitable year. I’m on cloud nine. After a long dinner and a good amount of wine, I continue chatting idly with Paulo, celebrating as if it’s New Year’s Eve. After the lawyers, auditors, and other stakeholders steadily head back to Manhattan, just our closest friends remain.
“You should have brought some of your Brazilian friends,” I tease Paulo, already half tipsy.
“Indeed, now that work is over, I should call them over,” he replies.
“Mr. Van Gatt?” I turn at the sound of Maria’s voice. “Mr. Van Dieren would like to talk to you in private. He is waiting for you in his office. May I escort you?”
“Oh, thank you, Maria. Sure.” I take the last sip of my delicious whiskey, a Balvenie fifty-year-old single malt opened specially for the occasion.
I follow Maria at a nervous pace. After all, I don’t know what Alex has on his mind or why he needs to see me in his office tonight to discuss it. We usually talk everywhere—lounges, restaurants, bars—and why tonight? Why right after the acquisition of the Singaporean hedge fund? I have no idea, but I’ll soon find out. Maria knocks on his door then opens it. Alex’s sitting on his high-back tufted chair. He has already removed his tie and jacket, keeping only his waistcoat on, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a glass in hand. He smiles warmly, stands up, and walks toward me.
“Ah, Roy. Please come in. May I offer you a drink? I see yours is empty.”
“Sure, you know me. Thank you.” He takes my glass and walks over to the bar to prepare a new one.
It has been a while since I’ve been here. As I wait for him, my eyes begin curiously darting around. I must admit, his office is of a rare, classic beauty with cherrywood paneling, tufted light-brown leather chairs, and tall windows with carmine-colored drapes. I love the welcoming fireplace on my left and the high-standing bookshel
ves on my right. I wish my library were this vast, but this must be a centuries-old collection inherited from his family. Then I look up to the chandeliers and the dark coffered ceiling. “I forgot how opulent this place was,” I note aloud.
Alex raises an eyebrow, glancing quickly around. “It’s okay,” he replies without an ounce of enthusiasm.
He hands me the refilled glass and invites me to sit in one of the chairs in front of his office desk.
I unbutton my jacket and take a seat. “Well, I’m listening.” My tone comes out a bit broken and nervous. I take a gulp of my new drink as he walks back to his chair. “You look quite serious. Is everything alright?” I ask.
“Well…” He takes a deep breath, pondering for a moment, then leans against the back of his chair. “It’s about your daughter.”
My eyes open wide in astonishment. Petra? I run through several scenarios in my head. “Don’t tell me she did something bad. Is she okay? Is it about Columbia? Does she not like it?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “No. Petra is fine, and so far I think she’s enjoying Columbia.”
I heave a quick sigh of relief. “So, what is it about? Everything has a solution; you can trust me.”
“Roy.” He pauses, trying to find the best way to put it. “We have been friends for over twenty years… and this is going to be the most difficult talk I’ve ever had to have with you.”
My jaw drops instantly. “Now you’re scaring me.” I take another swig of my whiskey—bigger than usual.
“Do you remember that day you asked me to spend more time with Petra and take care of Emma?”
“Of course I do. And I owe you a big one.”
“Well, today is the day I’m asking you to return the favor,” he continues.
“I see.” I take another sip, swallowing hard. “And what can I do for you?”
Alex notices my glass is already empty. He stands up, takes it from me, and goes to the bar again to refill it. “Here.” He hands me the new drink and goes back to his chair. At this point, I wonder why is he giving me so much whiskey. Is it for the sake of courtesy, or because of what he has to say? “First, I want to tell you I never expected this to happen. And believe me, I tried to fight hard, very hard, to avoid it. But we are just human, after all, and I won’t disappear again.”
“Okay…” I take a drink, a failed attempt to calm myself down. “What about getting to the point?”
He takes a deep breath, looking steadily at me, his face unreadable. “Petra is in love with me.”
“What? Are you sure? Again? Oh God!” I sigh angrily. “Alexander, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry for her behavior. I thought after ten years she would be fine. What can I do?”
“Let me finish, Roy. Here’s the hardest part.” He takes a long sip from his own glass and swallows hard. My heart begins thundering as I observe him searching for the words. “I love her too, Roy, and not in the way I should.”
“Oh dear Lord,” I shout before rubbing my eyelids. This is a nightmare, right? That’s all it can be! I’m going to wake up in a moment, for sure. I try to breathe slowly, dragging some precious air into my lungs.
“We spent the night together in Rio, but nothing serious happened, I promise. I would never go further without talking to you first.”
THEY WHAT? I gasp. My heart freezes immediately at his words. I blink many times, hoping to wake up, but I’m still here in his office. “This is a joke, right? So, you brought me here to get my blessing before fucking my daughter?” I yell, squeezing my glass so tightly that it breaks in my hand. Blood starts oozing from the cut, my anger consuming me. I jump out of the chair, knocking over a pile of papers that falls immediately to the floor. I would’ve preferred to slap him in the face, but I start pacing around instead. Needless to say, Alex seems glad to be sitting on the other side. “I understand where your disappointment is coming from—”
“You are her godfather!” I shout at him. “My fucking best friend! What’s wrong with you?” I close my eyes once more, trying to contain a headache. “This can’t be possible! I’m… I…” I search for words, any words. “I’m in shock, Alex. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. You broke all the confidence I had in you. I trusted you! I trusted my daughter! How could she do something like this to me? How could you do something like this to me?” I ask, pointing a finger at him. “How could you let this happen?”
“I silenced my feelings, and hers, for months, Roy. It’s not easy for us either. While I cannot explain to you why Petra and I feel this way toward each other, I can tell you one thing: one day or another, she’ll be with someone. Either a random guy you know nothing about and who couldn’t care less about you, or with someone you know and trust, who has the guts to come here to talk to you first.” I huff loudly. This guy is surreal. “She’s not a child anymore. She’s turning eighteen next week.”
“Please, tell me we’re not having this conversation. I’m so disgusted by all of this.”
“I’m afraid we are, Roy.”
The room falls into a freezing silence. I’m blank, mute, totally exasperated with his disgusting talk. Goddammit! “How can you even imagine your life with her, huh?” I shake my head. “Twenty-three years’ age difference is a lot,” I snap, trying to keep my temper in check.
“I know it is. I thought about all of this,” he replies quietly, his face as serene as usual. “I just want to make her happy.”
“What if she wants a serious relationship? Or even to get married?” I ask, aiming to bring some common sense to his madness. “You’ve never wanted to settle down with anyone! You know Petra is not like Amanda, Rafaela, or your random encounters.”
“Roy,” his tone sounds heavier, more strident. “I didn’t bring you here to talk only about my feelings toward your daughter…” My heart keeps thundering, barely containing an imminent attack. “But also about my intention to marry her.” I fall back into the chair, but my jaw and heart are on the floor. I instantly reach for my chest at the feel of such a punch. I’m paralyzed. Mute. Has he lost his mind or what? “I know she’s focused on her exams and that we have Singapore coming up. Don’t worry, I won’t propose now…” Oh fantastic! I feel so much better! “But I wanted to let you know I intend to marry her.” He pauses for a beat. “Do I have your blessing?”
I gasp again. The more he talks, the more I’m in shock. Alexander wants to marry Petra? I feel like throwing up, fainting, dying, but I swallow hard instead. “Unbelievable.” I take a much-needed breath. “This is unbelievable, Alexander. We’ve never let any woman put our twenty years of dear friendship and successful business relationship at stake, until now with my own daughter!”
“Indeed,” he replies, his voice steady. “But Petra is not ‘any woman,’ and you know that.”
“It feels surreal!” I stand up again, roaming around. “You are gone for ten years! Ten good years, for God’s sake!” I protest before exhaling all my mixed emotions. “And what about that lifestyle of yours, huh? Does she already know about it?”
“What? My relationship with Petra is totally different, Roy.”
“Answer my question,” I snarl.
“No, she doesn’t know.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “I can live without it. But not without her.”
I raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “You can really live without you being a… well, you?”
“For her, yes.”
I shake my head more in astonishment than anything else. I’d never have done it for any woman in the world, not even Tess. After a brief moment of silence, still assessing his request, I proceed. “You know if you break her heart, I’ll have to hurt you, Alexander. And our friendship, our businesses, everything we’ve built together will end, right?”
“I know. I wasn’t expecting otherwise.” He keeps looking me straight in the eyes. “I won’t break her heart, Roy. I promise.”
“Alexander, I’ll repeat this one more time!” I warn. “You know what’s at stake. You can still back
out. No need to make promises. Are you sure about this?”
“Roy, have I ever failed you?”
“Not once.”
“I’m sure about this.”
I nod thoughtfully and try to get used to this new reality. So Petra will become… a noblewoman? Lady Petra? And my grandchildren will inherit this place, the Van Dieren family’s office, title, assets, and mansions? Damn, I understand now why he gave me so many glasses of whiskey. “Well, I imagine you’ll have to talk to Margaret, then.”
He smiles victoriously, or at least halfway. “I know, and I might need your help.”
Chapter 19
Manhattan, November 26, 2019
Petra Van Gatt
“Good morning, Ms. Van Gatt.”
“Mmm, good morning, Janine…” I mumble, stretching my arms.
“Your father would like to talk to you before he goes to work. He’s in the living room.”
Oh God! I hate when Janine wakes me up like that. I recall that yesterday was the twenty-fifth. The day Alex was going to talk to Dad. I wonder which mood I’ll find him in. Angry? Sad? Disappointed? Betrayed? Will he disown me?
I let out a sigh, standing up. I put on my slippers and a long robe, and nervously walk to the living room, my heartbeat already pounding anxiously fast.
I find Dad comfortably sitting on one of the sofas, wearing a black turtleneck and a gray wool suit with a silk pocket square, legs crossed, reading his WSJ like every morning. I swallow hard but try to keep on a smile and positive morning glow.
“Good morning, Dad,” I greet him joyfully.
He looks in my direction then back to his paper.
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