and the wise ones never admit to it, but I never had any doubt that I was my father’s favorite. Unfortunately, he didn’t hide it. And with eleven other brothers, being the favorite wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
“Are you bringing Ashley to the celebration tonight?”
“Yes, sir.”
As soon as Murdock had left our office, my father had announced a special celebratory party at our favorite restaurant, Giuseppe’s.
He nodded. “Nice girl. Pretty.”
“Thank you.”
As usual, I wondered what he really thought of her. Throughout my dating years my father had always been closemouthed about my relationships and I honestly had no idea whether or not he approved of Ashley and me. Then again, with his track record, maybe he just thought it best to not offer romantic advice.
“She is pretty,” I said. “And sharp as a tack.”
“So, where are you going with that?”
“I think we’re getting close.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Close?”
“I’ve been looking at rings.”
My father showed no emotion, but nodded. “Do you love her?”
“I wouldn’t be looking at rings if I didn’t.”
“Does she love you?”
The question threw me a little. “I think so. She’s told me she loves me.”
“Does she mean it?”
I didn’t know how to answer his question. “How do you really know that?”
He looked me in the eye. “You’ll know when you don’t have to ask.” The gravity in his face dissipated. “But I’m probably not the best one to advise on this subject.”
“You got it right eventually,” I said.
A subtle smile crossed his face. “Yes, I did.” He took another drink. “Enough of that. I just wanted to say congratulations and make sure you’re planning on attending the celebration tonight.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Good. Good.” He sat back down. “Because I have a very special surprise for you.” He had a huge smile on his face.
“A surprise? What is it?”
“You do understand the concept of a surprise, right?”
I grinned. “Sorry.”
He took another drink, his gaze never leaving me. “Get out of here. You’ve got a lot of work to do. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay.” I stopped at the door. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too,” he said. “See you.”
I walked out of his office wondering what he had in store for my surprise. I hoped it wasn’t anything too demonstrative. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate the gesture; I just didn’t want to deal with the backlash of my brothers’ envy.
CHAPTER
Three
Tonight my father gave me a gift I didn’t deserve. I mean that in the best and worst possible ways.
Joseph Jacobson’s Diary
Giuseppe’s was our family’s official restaurant of celebration, an upscale Italian restaurant near the corner of 17th Street and Champa, where we held graduation and engagement parties, and our annual company Christmas party, which we’d had six weeks earlier.
There were thirty-two of us that night, our six nonfamily employees, the brothers and Diane, and our spouses and dates. Only Diane and Benjamin came alone.
Although my father was in a jovial mood, I was feeling a little tense, still wondering what he had planned.
Ashley noticed my tenseness and rubbed my neck. “Are you okay?”
I frowned. “There’s just been a lot of stress at work lately.”
“But you won the account. You don’t have to worry anymore.” I must have still looked anxious because she leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “I’ll tell you what. We’ll have our own celebration next week. I’ll make a special dinner for just the two of us.”
“It’s a deal,” I said, hoping to drop the subject.
“In the meantime, let’s have fun. There’s good food, good wine . . .”
“. . . a beautiful girl . . .” I interjected.
She smiled. “A beautiful girl who loves you. Tonight you’re the conquering hero. This is a good night. Relax and enjoy the moment.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Carpe diem.”
“Carpe diem,” she echoed.
As the evening waned and the music and Chianti took effect, the tension eased, giving way to laughter. Even Simon, the toughest on me of all the brothers, looked happy. With the brothers relaxed, I also relaxed.
After the tiramisu and coffee had been served, my father tapped his wineglass with his spoon. When the room quieted, he stood and raised a glass of red wine. “I’d like to make a toast.” My father turned toward me. “A few days ago your brother Joseph shared a dream with me.”
He couldn’t possibly be considering sharing . . .
“Joseph dreamt of a tree in a dark forest, covered with colored lights—like a Christmas tree. The tree was surrounded by eleven other trees. Then a storm arose, whitening