My Stardust Melody, Chapter One
Chapter 1
As the rented 1928 Rolls Royce Phantom Tourer sped down the road toward the Long Island Sound, Luke leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. So much depended on this weekend's success. He began to drift off, thinking of the moment that had put everything in motion three years ago.
"Luke. Luke? That was Maddie on the phone," a voice spoke from beside him in the backseat.
Luke just nuzzled further into the beige leather seat, lost in day that seemed a lifetime ago.
"Hey Luke! Let's go get some pizza at that the place down the street. You know, the one where they sell liquor and fake Rolexes."
Luke chuckled at his college roommate David, remembering the place. The guy who owned it spoke Italian and made lewd comments about unsuspecting women when they were in the shop. Luke, of course, understood every word.
"Sorry, I can't. This physics test is going to kick my butt tomorrow if I don't study. And I've got that Shakespeare paper on 'Henry the Fifth' the day after that." He swiveled around in his desk chair to look over at David who was lying on the bottom bunk of their bed.
David, who had curly blonde hair, ocean-colored eyes and a wide smile, threw a pretzel at Luke's head. "Oh, come on. Let's go get Maddie and get some food. You can take a break. Besides, Wesleyan shouldn't make English majors take science courses. They should know better." Maddie was David's girlfriend and Luke's best friend from high school. The pair was often compared to the sun and the moon since David fair looks strikingly accentuated Maddie's dark coloring.
"Well, I agree with you there, but that doesn't mean I don't have to study," Luke replied, now chomping on the pretzel that had landed in his lap. He dodged to the left when another pretzel came sailing toward him. "Hang on, my phone is ringing," he said as he pulled the vibrating phone from his pocket.
Another pretzel came soaring in the air at him, and Luke laughed. "Hello," he said to the person on the other end of the phone.
"Luke, it's Jack," said his cousin.
" Jack! Hey, how are Carly and the kids?" He mouthed "Stop that" at his roommate who was now shooting pretzel missiles at him every three seconds.
"They're fine, Luke," Jack said in a choked voice. "I'm calling about something else."
Jack's tone finally registered with Luke, and the blonde's abruptly serious expression must have alerted David that something was up because the pretzel attack ceased.
"Luke, I don't know how to tell you this, but--" Jack said in a rough voice, his voice catching on the last word to pause as if he were summoning strength. Having no choice but to continue, he said, "Holden, Lily, and Emma were driving home from Natalie's recital early this evening and were hit by an elderly lady going the wrong way on the highway."
"What?" Luke cried in panic. "Are they okay?"
Jack's voice cracked as he replied, "No, they didn't make it."
The sentence hung unanswered in the air for a long moment. Luke could hear Jack crying, but all he could do was sit numbly as the news crept over him. It felt surreal, like it was happening to someone else. "Is Natalie okay?" he finally asked numbly.
Jack sniffed, trying to control his tears, and said, "Yeah, she wasn't in the car. She went home for dinner with another little girl."
"That's good," Luke responded robotically, almost absently. As if his brain were fighting through a thick fog and could not react to anything else, his thoughts felt hazy. He wasn't even aware of David getting up and putting his hand on Luke's shoulder. He would only remember the gesture later when he replayed this moment time and again in his head.
"I am so sorry, Luke. I can't believe this happened, especially so soon after your grandmother passed away." Lucinda, Luke's other grandmother, had lost a battle with cancer shortly before the young man graduated from high school a year and a half ago.
Luke just mutely nodded, oblivious to the fact that Jack couldn't see him.
"Luke, are you okay?" The worried question came from both Jack and David.
Luke slumped forward, his blonde head almost touching his knees. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," he began murmuring over and over. Pain started to lace its way around his heart, tightening as the news became more real. They were gone. His mom, his dad, and his grandma were gone in an instant. He didn't even get to say goodbye.
Why couldn't he have said goodbye, he thought in anguish.
"Luke! Luciano! You need to wake up. We're almost there." The car jolted over a rock, but it wasn't quite enough to bring Luke out of his sleep.
It had been three days since Luke had heard the news from Jack. The bad news wasn't over yet as he was just finding out from the attorney sitting in his grandma's kitchen. Maddie, who had flown home with Luke two morning ago, sat next to him, holding his hand.
"Mr. Snyder, I am sorry to tell you--" the grey-haired attorney began.
Luke interrupted and said curtly, "Everyone is sorry these days." He was tired of hearing the word "sorry," as if that word made things any easier.
Maddie gave the attorney an apologetic look.
"Yes, well," the man began again uncomfortably, "I have to tell you that your family has been left in a financial mess."
Luke frowned at the man. "What do you mean? Mom inherited my grandmother Lucinda Walsh's estate-how much of a mess could we be in?"
"Your mother, unfortunately, made some unwise investments. To be short, she bankrupted the company, and then to try to cover the debt, she liquidated every asset she had, including her life insurance policy. Your grandmother Emma left you the farm as it was supposed to pass to your father Holden. However, she had two mortgages on the farm in order to pay for some new equipment. Your father's estate included a modest life insurance policy, but that will only cover most of his debts and the funeral arrangements."
Luke was reeling. He knew Lily had run into financial difficulties with Walsh Enterprises, but he never knew the extent was so severe. How were his parents even paying for his college tuition?
Maddie broke the silence that had engulfed the room. "Oh, my god, Luke!" she cried. She stared at her friend not knowing what to say to him.
"What should I do?" Luke asked the lawyer.
"You can sell everything. Your mother already sold everything but her house, but you may sell that and receive any money from it after her debts have been paid. Unfortunately, I think the debt will erase any profit from the sell. The same goes for the farm."
"I will not sell the farm," he replied in a firm voice. He felt sickened by the idea. It was the Snyder Farm; every single good memory from his childhood came from that farm. His grandma, his father, and every other person with the last name of Snyder loved that home. Cozy thoughts of sitting by Grandma Emma's fire while drinking hot cider and eating popcorn with his siblings, of chasing an escaped pig through the kitchen, of seeing his parents laugh and kiss under the mistletoe-everything good happened there.
The lawyer's voice sliced through Luke's thoughts. "You may choose not to, but then you need to find a way to pay the mortgage. It is a significant sum."
"I'll find the money, somehow." Luke's tone was a lot more confident than he felt. He briefly wondered if he inherited the ability to do brazen things from his grandmother Lucinda or his birth father, Damian, a man he hadn't seen in several years.
When the attorney finally left, Luke closed the back door and tried to keep from panicking. The man had given Luke a mountain of papers to go through, and decisions had to be made soon. Maddie was staring at him with an open mouth, her large brown eyes watering. His feelings were mirrored in her face.
He was at the beginning of his sophomore year in college. No one was going to hire him for more than minimum wage. How was he supposed to keep the farm and keep his three younger siblings fed? It seemed impossible.
"Luciano, we're here," Damian said and smiled bracingly at his son.
Luke stretched as he finally woke up. "Once more unto the breach," he sighed.
"Shakespeare?" Damian queried, not bothering to deny the direness of the situation.
"Henry the Fifth. I read it in college." He thought back and realized it was the last thing he had read in school before he came back home to take care of his family.
Damian smiled sadly and said, "Perhaps if we're a success this weekend, you can go back one day."
"This has to work, Damian," the young man asserted. "I've made it three years without losing the farm; I'm not about to now."
Forfeiting his family's home, however, was only part of the risk, and both he and his father knew it.
If Damian's plan did not work, Luke's future would either be one of profound toil or melancholic luxury. The very precariousness of their position made Luke apprehensive. If the scheme failed, Luke would have to make a decision that impacted not only himself, but also his family. Everything, everything, depended upon the success of this weekend. Damian had invited hundreds of potential investors to his Roaring Twenties Weekend at Winthrop Manor in New York. This would be Grimaldi's last act to get money back into their empty accounts.
If the ploy did not work, however, there would be a reckoning for more than just the company. Luke would gladly face it, even if it made him miserable.
It had to work.
The site of the party had been chosen with particular care. The Winthrop Estate stretched along the Gold Coast of Long Island's North Shore. It was at the edge of a wide expanse of a meadow that rose into a high bluff that overlooked the Long Island Sound. Just before the bluffs sat the manor, an immense Beaux Arts mansion constructed of pale stone. The four immense pillars of the front portico, sitting below elaborate cornices and a balustrade that lined the entire roof, encased the entrance as pilasters accentuated the rest of the façade. Along the back of the home, was a sweeping double staircase leading to the European gardens and lush green lawn.
The mansion boasted three stories and 138 rooms. In its heyday, it was the site of some of the most extravagant parties on Long Island. Today, the medieval tapestries still hung on the walls and the oriental rugs still graced the floor. The mansion had survived through the Depression and was eventually bought by a private hotelier who renovated the residence, turning it into a site for lavish events and conferences in the 1960s. To many, it was a monument of American survival.
To Luke, Winthrop Manor resembled nothing more than his future imprisonment.
As the old luxury car turned into the mile-long drive of the estate, Luke reflected back upon the day that Damian came back into his life, essentially saving him.
Luke wanted to believe. He wanted to believe so damn badly.
Luciano, just give me a chance," his birth father said, placing his hand on the weathered screen door of Luke's family farmhouse.
"You can leave, Damian. There isn't any money. I don't have anything you want," Luke replied bitterly. He hated himself for feeling relief at the sight of his father's face. Luke gazed stonily at Damian, the man who Luke had last seen a few years ago when Damian had taken Luke's inheritance after faking a mortal illness and then trying to kidnap his teenage son.
"I have not come for that," Damian pleaded, his blue eyes revealing a wealth of sorrow.
A muscle flicked angrily in Luke's jaw. "I can still have you brought up on kidnapping charges. Get out!" he said, nearly shouting.
"You could, and that is your right, my son. I would not blame you." The musical cadence of Damian's Italian voice always lent his words a sincere quality. Luke knew he couldn't trust it.
The twenty-year-old responded with a humorless laugh. "Damian it's been two months since their deaths. Why are you here, now?" He leaned against the wall of the porch, folding his arms over his chest.
Damian tilted his brow and looked at his son uncertainly. "I didn't think you would see me."
"You were right." Luke spoke with quiet firmness.
"I didn't know I had something you needed."
Luke's mouth twisted in perverse amusement. "Really, what's that, Damian? Are you suddenly God? Can you bring back Mom, Dad, and Grandma?"
Damian did not rise against Luke's anger. He knew it was justified. He took a step closer to Luke, closing the door behind him, and murmured, "No, although I wish I could. I loved Cara, and I hate to see you grieve. I can't do anything for that, but I can offer you one thing."
"What?" Luke asked curtly, sure that he would never accept anything Damian had to offer.
"A job."
"You can forget it. I'll never work for you." But, they both knew Luke's promise would not last. His family's circumstances were too desperate for Luke to refuse Damian's overture, no matter what Damian's motives.
Luke accepted Damian's offer two weeks later. Two months after that, Luke started to call him "Father." The significance of that term was not lost on Damian. He would never be "Dad;" that title belonged to Holden, the man who raised Luke.
Luke had grown genuinely fond of his Maltese father. After three years, he could even say he loved him. Their relationship blossomed into something more normal than it had ever been in the past. Damian respected Luke's business judgments, and tried to offer advice whenever he could. He rarely offered much personal advice since their history was fraught regarding Luke's homosexuality. Damian now accepted Luke for who he was, but he knew Luke would likely bristle at love advice, not that Luke had much of a personal life with all the work he undertook at Grimaldi. Luke appreciated the circumspection from Damian. Damian sensed this and never once commented on Luke's intimate affairs, at least until Grimaldi's business directly collided into them.
However, Luke and Damian had long been on a path toward financial disaster. It was a miracle that it had not impacted their personal relationship until recently. Two years ago, Grimaldi International lost most of its assets to the federal government for its ties to organized crime. Damian was only free because no one could ever pin any act specifically on him-it was always middlemen and subordinates involved in any criminal activity. As of six months ago, the company only had a limited shipping branch remaining. Everything else had been shut down under racketeering laws.
Consequently, Luke and Damian were on the verge of financial ruin again. Hell, they were past the verge. This party represented their last desperate attempt to save Grimaldi. Every penny they had was invested in this party. Damian had joked that they should be glad there was no such thing as debtors' prison in America because, if this failed, father and son would likely be sharing the only penthouse suite that ever had a dirt floor and bars on the windows.
They had tried more conventional methods of getting investors interested. Their initial public offering only brought a modest profit that was not enough to make the business solvent. Unfortunately, no one wanted to give money to a company that had lost most of its assets to the federal government for ties to organized crime.
Damian and Luke searched for investors, but people were not even willing to talk to them. For months, they looked. Lenders viewed Luke as being just as tainted as Damian even though Luke had come to the company after all the illegal activity had ceased. Damian had sworn the company would stay on the right side of the law when Luke had first become an employee. He had lived up to his word, but it had been too late. Luke seemed as guilty to everyone else as his father.
Three months ago, Luke and Damian started planning this party-an event so extravagant that no one would be able to refuse attendance. An event that would rehabilitate the Grimaldi name. They were sure that if potential backers would just speak to them, the father and son duo could convince someone to put some money into their venture. Charming others was what they both did best.
In the same month that they started organizing the Roaring Twenties party, Damian introduced Luke to Julian Raines of Raines Industries. This was the first time in almost three years that Damian had involved himself in Luke's romantic life. However, Damian had never considered that Luke's face might be a financial asset until he met Julian. For that matter, neither had Luke.
For Julian Raines, everything had a price.
As the rented 1928 Rolls Royce Phantom Tourer sped down the road toward the Long Island Sound, Luke leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. So much depended on this weekend's success. He began to drift off, thinking of the moment that had put everything in motion three years ago.
"Luke. Luke? That was Maddie on the phone," a voice spoke from beside him in the backseat.
Luke just nuzzled further into the beige leather seat, lost in day that seemed a lifetime ago.
"Hey Luke! Let's go get some pizza at that the place down the street. You know, the one where they sell liquor and fake Rolexes."
Luke chuckled at his college roommate David, remembering the place. The guy who owned it spoke Italian and made lewd comments about unsuspecting women when they were in the shop. Luke, of course, understood every word.
"Sorry, I can't. This physics test is going to kick my butt tomorrow if I don't study. And I've got that Shakespeare paper on 'Henry the Fifth' the day after that." He swiveled around in his desk chair to look over at David who was lying on the bottom bunk of their bed.
David, who had curly blonde hair, ocean-colored eyes and a wide smile, threw a pretzel at Luke's head. "Oh, come on. Let's go get Maddie and get some food. You can take a break. Besides, Wesleyan shouldn't make English majors take science courses. They should know better." Maddie was David's girlfriend and Luke's best friend from high school. The pair was often compared to the sun and the moon since David fair looks strikingly accentuated Maddie's dark coloring.
"Well, I agree with you there, but that doesn't mean I don't have to study," Luke replied, now chomping on the pretzel that had landed in his lap. He dodged to the left when another pretzel came sailing toward him. "Hang on, my phone is ringing," he said as he pulled the vibrating phone from his pocket.
Another pretzel came soaring in the air at him, and Luke laughed. "Hello," he said to the person on the other end of the phone.
"Luke, it's Jack," said his cousin.
" Jack! Hey, how are Carly and the kids?" He mouthed "Stop that" at his roommate who was now shooting pretzel missiles at him every three seconds.
"They're fine, Luke," Jack said in a choked voice. "I'm calling about something else."
Jack's tone finally registered with Luke, and the blonde's abruptly serious expression must have alerted David that something was up because the pretzel attack ceased.
"Luke, I don't know how to tell you this, but--" Jack said in a rough voice, his voice catching on the last word to pause as if he were summoning strength. Having no choice but to continue, he said, "Holden, Lily, and Emma were driving home from Natalie's recital early this evening and were hit by an elderly lady going the wrong way on the highway."
"What?" Luke cried in panic. "Are they okay?"
Jack's voice cracked as he replied, "No, they didn't make it."
The sentence hung unanswered in the air for a long moment. Luke could hear Jack crying, but all he could do was sit numbly as the news crept over him. It felt surreal, like it was happening to someone else. "Is Natalie okay?" he finally asked numbly.
Jack sniffed, trying to control his tears, and said, "Yeah, she wasn't in the car. She went home for dinner with another little girl."
"That's good," Luke responded robotically, almost absently. As if his brain were fighting through a thick fog and could not react to anything else, his thoughts felt hazy. He wasn't even aware of David getting up and putting his hand on Luke's shoulder. He would only remember the gesture later when he replayed this moment time and again in his head.
"I am so sorry, Luke. I can't believe this happened, especially so soon after your grandmother passed away." Lucinda, Luke's other grandmother, had lost a battle with cancer shortly before the young man graduated from high school a year and a half ago.
Luke just mutely nodded, oblivious to the fact that Jack couldn't see him.
"Luke, are you okay?" The worried question came from both Jack and David.
Luke slumped forward, his blonde head almost touching his knees. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," he began murmuring over and over. Pain started to lace its way around his heart, tightening as the news became more real. They were gone. His mom, his dad, and his grandma were gone in an instant. He didn't even get to say goodbye.
Why couldn't he have said goodbye, he thought in anguish.
"Luke! Luciano! You need to wake up. We're almost there." The car jolted over a rock, but it wasn't quite enough to bring Luke out of his sleep.
It had been three days since Luke had heard the news from Jack. The bad news wasn't over yet as he was just finding out from the attorney sitting in his grandma's kitchen. Maddie, who had flown home with Luke two morning ago, sat next to him, holding his hand.
"Mr. Snyder, I am sorry to tell you--" the grey-haired attorney began.
Luke interrupted and said curtly, "Everyone is sorry these days." He was tired of hearing the word "sorry," as if that word made things any easier.
Maddie gave the attorney an apologetic look.
"Yes, well," the man began again uncomfortably, "I have to tell you that your family has been left in a financial mess."
Luke frowned at the man. "What do you mean? Mom inherited my grandmother Lucinda Walsh's estate-how much of a mess could we be in?"
"Your mother, unfortunately, made some unwise investments. To be short, she bankrupted the company, and then to try to cover the debt, she liquidated every asset she had, including her life insurance policy. Your grandmother Emma left you the farm as it was supposed to pass to your father Holden. However, she had two mortgages on the farm in order to pay for some new equipment. Your father's estate included a modest life insurance policy, but that will only cover most of his debts and the funeral arrangements."
Luke was reeling. He knew Lily had run into financial difficulties with Walsh Enterprises, but he never knew the extent was so severe. How were his parents even paying for his college tuition?
Maddie broke the silence that had engulfed the room. "Oh, my god, Luke!" she cried. She stared at her friend not knowing what to say to him.
"What should I do?" Luke asked the lawyer.
"You can sell everything. Your mother already sold everything but her house, but you may sell that and receive any money from it after her debts have been paid. Unfortunately, I think the debt will erase any profit from the sell. The same goes for the farm."
"I will not sell the farm," he replied in a firm voice. He felt sickened by the idea. It was the Snyder Farm; every single good memory from his childhood came from that farm. His grandma, his father, and every other person with the last name of Snyder loved that home. Cozy thoughts of sitting by Grandma Emma's fire while drinking hot cider and eating popcorn with his siblings, of chasing an escaped pig through the kitchen, of seeing his parents laugh and kiss under the mistletoe-everything good happened there.
The lawyer's voice sliced through Luke's thoughts. "You may choose not to, but then you need to find a way to pay the mortgage. It is a significant sum."
"I'll find the money, somehow." Luke's tone was a lot more confident than he felt. He briefly wondered if he inherited the ability to do brazen things from his grandmother Lucinda or his birth father, Damian, a man he hadn't seen in several years.
When the attorney finally left, Luke closed the back door and tried to keep from panicking. The man had given Luke a mountain of papers to go through, and decisions had to be made soon. Maddie was staring at him with an open mouth, her large brown eyes watering. His feelings were mirrored in her face.
He was at the beginning of his sophomore year in college. No one was going to hire him for more than minimum wage. How was he supposed to keep the farm and keep his three younger siblings fed? It seemed impossible.
"Luciano, we're here," Damian said and smiled bracingly at his son.
Luke stretched as he finally woke up. "Once more unto the breach," he sighed.
"Shakespeare?" Damian queried, not bothering to deny the direness of the situation.
"Henry the Fifth. I read it in college." He thought back and realized it was the last thing he had read in school before he came back home to take care of his family.
Damian smiled sadly and said, "Perhaps if we're a success this weekend, you can go back one day."
"This has to work, Damian," the young man asserted. "I've made it three years without losing the farm; I'm not about to now."
Forfeiting his family's home, however, was only part of the risk, and both he and his father knew it.
If Damian's plan did not work, Luke's future would either be one of profound toil or melancholic luxury. The very precariousness of their position made Luke apprehensive. If the scheme failed, Luke would have to make a decision that impacted not only himself, but also his family. Everything, everything, depended upon the success of this weekend. Damian had invited hundreds of potential investors to his Roaring Twenties Weekend at Winthrop Manor in New York. This would be Grimaldi's last act to get money back into their empty accounts.
If the ploy did not work, however, there would be a reckoning for more than just the company. Luke would gladly face it, even if it made him miserable.
It had to work.
The site of the party had been chosen with particular care. The Winthrop Estate stretched along the Gold Coast of Long Island's North Shore. It was at the edge of a wide expanse of a meadow that rose into a high bluff that overlooked the Long Island Sound. Just before the bluffs sat the manor, an immense Beaux Arts mansion constructed of pale stone. The four immense pillars of the front portico, sitting below elaborate cornices and a balustrade that lined the entire roof, encased the entrance as pilasters accentuated the rest of the façade. Along the back of the home, was a sweeping double staircase leading to the European gardens and lush green lawn.
The mansion boasted three stories and 138 rooms. In its heyday, it was the site of some of the most extravagant parties on Long Island. Today, the medieval tapestries still hung on the walls and the oriental rugs still graced the floor. The mansion had survived through the Depression and was eventually bought by a private hotelier who renovated the residence, turning it into a site for lavish events and conferences in the 1960s. To many, it was a monument of American survival.
To Luke, Winthrop Manor resembled nothing more than his future imprisonment.
As the old luxury car turned into the mile-long drive of the estate, Luke reflected back upon the day that Damian came back into his life, essentially saving him.
Luke wanted to believe. He wanted to believe so damn badly.
Luciano, just give me a chance," his birth father said, placing his hand on the weathered screen door of Luke's family farmhouse.
"You can leave, Damian. There isn't any money. I don't have anything you want," Luke replied bitterly. He hated himself for feeling relief at the sight of his father's face. Luke gazed stonily at Damian, the man who Luke had last seen a few years ago when Damian had taken Luke's inheritance after faking a mortal illness and then trying to kidnap his teenage son.
"I have not come for that," Damian pleaded, his blue eyes revealing a wealth of sorrow.
A muscle flicked angrily in Luke's jaw. "I can still have you brought up on kidnapping charges. Get out!" he said, nearly shouting.
"You could, and that is your right, my son. I would not blame you." The musical cadence of Damian's Italian voice always lent his words a sincere quality. Luke knew he couldn't trust it.
The twenty-year-old responded with a humorless laugh. "Damian it's been two months since their deaths. Why are you here, now?" He leaned against the wall of the porch, folding his arms over his chest.
Damian tilted his brow and looked at his son uncertainly. "I didn't think you would see me."
"You were right." Luke spoke with quiet firmness.
"I didn't know I had something you needed."
Luke's mouth twisted in perverse amusement. "Really, what's that, Damian? Are you suddenly God? Can you bring back Mom, Dad, and Grandma?"
Damian did not rise against Luke's anger. He knew it was justified. He took a step closer to Luke, closing the door behind him, and murmured, "No, although I wish I could. I loved Cara, and I hate to see you grieve. I can't do anything for that, but I can offer you one thing."
"What?" Luke asked curtly, sure that he would never accept anything Damian had to offer.
"A job."
"You can forget it. I'll never work for you." But, they both knew Luke's promise would not last. His family's circumstances were too desperate for Luke to refuse Damian's overture, no matter what Damian's motives.
Luke accepted Damian's offer two weeks later. Two months after that, Luke started to call him "Father." The significance of that term was not lost on Damian. He would never be "Dad;" that title belonged to Holden, the man who raised Luke.
Luke had grown genuinely fond of his Maltese father. After three years, he could even say he loved him. Their relationship blossomed into something more normal than it had ever been in the past. Damian respected Luke's business judgments, and tried to offer advice whenever he could. He rarely offered much personal advice since their history was fraught regarding Luke's homosexuality. Damian now accepted Luke for who he was, but he knew Luke would likely bristle at love advice, not that Luke had much of a personal life with all the work he undertook at Grimaldi. Luke appreciated the circumspection from Damian. Damian sensed this and never once commented on Luke's intimate affairs, at least until Grimaldi's business directly collided into them.
However, Luke and Damian had long been on a path toward financial disaster. It was a miracle that it had not impacted their personal relationship until recently. Two years ago, Grimaldi International lost most of its assets to the federal government for its ties to organized crime. Damian was only free because no one could ever pin any act specifically on him-it was always middlemen and subordinates involved in any criminal activity. As of six months ago, the company only had a limited shipping branch remaining. Everything else had been shut down under racketeering laws.
Consequently, Luke and Damian were on the verge of financial ruin again. Hell, they were past the verge. This party represented their last desperate attempt to save Grimaldi. Every penny they had was invested in this party. Damian had joked that they should be glad there was no such thing as debtors' prison in America because, if this failed, father and son would likely be sharing the only penthouse suite that ever had a dirt floor and bars on the windows.
They had tried more conventional methods of getting investors interested. Their initial public offering only brought a modest profit that was not enough to make the business solvent. Unfortunately, no one wanted to give money to a company that had lost most of its assets to the federal government for ties to organized crime.
Damian and Luke searched for investors, but people were not even willing to talk to them. For months, they looked. Lenders viewed Luke as being just as tainted as Damian even though Luke had come to the company after all the illegal activity had ceased. Damian had sworn the company would stay on the right side of the law when Luke had first become an employee. He had lived up to his word, but it had been too late. Luke seemed as guilty to everyone else as his father.
Three months ago, Luke and Damian started planning this party-an event so extravagant that no one would be able to refuse attendance. An event that would rehabilitate the Grimaldi name. They were sure that if potential backers would just speak to them, the father and son duo could convince someone to put some money into their venture. Charming others was what they both did best.
In the same month that they started organizing the Roaring Twenties party, Damian introduced Luke to Julian Raines of Raines Industries. This was the first time in almost three years that Damian had involved himself in Luke's romantic life. However, Damian had never considered that Luke's face might be a financial asset until he met Julian. For that matter, neither had Luke.
For Julian Raines, everything had a price.