“We don’t have to-” I begin to protest but he has made up his mind.
“Yes, the entire menu.” He hands the server the menus. “Thank you.”
“Cole. What just happened?”
“I don’t feel it’s necessary for you to choose.”
I’m at a loss for words. It’s not about the extravagance of the gesture, it’s the thought behind it. He makes me feel like he wants me to have everything I’ve ever desired.
“I don’t know what to say. So, I’ll just say thank you.”
Cole picks up his glass, taps it against my now raised one, and takes a sip.
“To answer your earlier question, me. My mental health is the reason behind my projects.” I don’t speak since I know he’ll expand on his own. “In the beginning, my dad was like any other patriarch of a wealthy family. He drilled legacy into us with the mind that we’d fall into executive positions when it was time with the eldest brother, Timothy, being the CEO. When he got to college, they fought over this because Tim wanted to be his own person. My dad ran the gauntlet of rich dad manipulation tactics but learned he created someone just as stubborn as he. It came down to a choice, either he gives his son grace or be forever estranged. It was a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross and Mom would have been furious if he did.”
He takes another sip of his water. “I admired him so much because of it. Ambrose, the middle brother, is the embodiment of Boss Baby. I swear that man was born with a briefcase. Not only was he perfect for the CEO role, he advocated for it, tailored his life around the love of our empire. Dad’s pride in him shined so brightly, I wanted a piece of it.”
Cole looks down and starts toying with the ring on his middle finger. I can’t imagine it’s easy to share, anything dealing with mental health is very personal to the person telling the story.
“I was rambunctious. Never fully sitting down long enough to learn anything substantial. Always being written up. It’s like Tim and I were tag teaming my dad’s blood pressure. One day, he was so frustrated with me he asked why couldn’t I be more like Ambrose. It stuck in my head. I was later tested for and diagnosed with ADHD. It explained a lot. My brain just works differently. Once I got a handle on learning different methods of managing it, my grades improved and I became hyper-focused on being successful. I was torn though, I didn’tknow if I wanted to be more like Tim or Ambrose because I respected both of them so much. I tried so hard, splitting my aspirations between both that I’d given myself an anxiety attack.”
The server puts down bread and I butter a slice as I listen. My heart goes out to his younger self. It’s not easy living up to older siblings.
“I was so busy trying to be like them that I wasn’t being myself. I knew I needed to take a step back and balance my mental health. I worked to create some systems to help me and looked into ways to relax like hiking, meditating, and yoga.”
“Thus the mind and body retreat.”
He taps his nose. “Exactly.”
“And the botanical alcohol alternative?”
“Along the same line. While I can drink alcohol, others can’t. It’s a depressant. I just wanted to put things out into the world that can be helpful. I wanted to provide the calm without the crash.” He shrugs in that vulnerable way people do when they feel like they’ve overshared. “The world will get an abbreviated version of my reasoning.”
“As they should, the public doesn’t need to know every little detail about you.”
The server comes and starts placing plates of several appetizers on the table. The enticing aromas make my stomach growl.
“Thank you for sharing with me.”
Our conversation moves to a much lighter topic as we tried and discussed all of the appetizers. It was interesting to learn that he always planned to spend this week trying all the amenities to see if they were up to his liking before the grand opening.
It made me feel special that not only did he invite me into such a private test for his pet project but he was willingto abandon that idea if I felt unsafe being alone with him. My mind wandered to the past a few times. It made me wonder what would have happened if I’d chosen to trust him the night I broke up with Adam. I know I needed time to heal and would never invite anyone into that trainwreck but we could have built something by now.
“Where did your mind just go?” He asks as our table is lined up with every dessert on the menu. The leftover appetizers and entrees will be taken to a nearby homeless shelter because it is entirely too much food to throw away.
“I was just wondering what would have been different if I trusted you that night.”
“Probably not much. You were very upset that night and needed your space. Even if I’d taken you where you needed to go, you most likely would have been thinking the entire time. I probably would have had time to at least know who you were before I walked across my television screen.”
“True but at least the transition would have been smoother.”
“I can see that,” he scoops some fruit and custard from the crème brûlée and holds out the spoon for me. The blue of his eyes is more pronounced as I lean in and accept the offering. The sweet and fruity flavors hit my tongue the moment my lips wrap around the spoon. “I wouldn’t have spent almost nine months trying to pick the right spokesperson.”
His words are still on the subject but there is a huskiness to his tone that wasn’t present before. The quality of his voice gives me goosebumps.
“So why me?”
“Well,” he pours some of the hot fudge onto the brownie a la mode. “Fun fact, I was at the party to pitch Adán El Rey until I saw him in action.”
