“Exactly!” interjected Giovanni. “It’s your birthday, son, and that’s why I’m here. I have a gift for you.”
A gift? Sebastian felt surprised. Well.
Maybe his father’s visit wasn’t entirely unwelcome. I’ll put up with the lectures, he thought to himself. A gift does sound nice.
At that moment, Kelcy arrived with a tray of food and drink. She set a cappuccino down in front of Sebastian. “For you,” she said. “I added a half teaspoon of raw sugar, sir, and gave you light foam.”
Sebastian nodded with approval, and Kelcy set his omelet down. “And your omelet, extra spinach.” She bustled over to the other side of the table. “And one for you, sir,” she said to Giovanni. “And your omelet.”
Giovanni nodded also. “Thank you, Kelcy,” he said. “We appreciate your service.”
She gave a little bow and disappeared.
Giovanni sat down in the seat, but didn’t touch his food. “I’m sorry, Sebastian,” he said, with a shake of his head. “Look what I’ve done to you.”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes and examined his father. “I’m fine, Dad,” he said, unsure of what his father was getting at.
“You’re not,” his father said. “And that you can’t see it is part of the problem. It’s time... it’s time to do something I should have done years ago. On this day, son, your thirty-fifth birthday, I’m giving you the gift of life.”
Sebastian wasn’t sure what to say, so he laughed. “I’m pretty sure you and Mom gave me that gift thirty-five years ago, when I was born,” he said. “So thanks for that.” He lifted his cup to his lips and looked out over the ocean as he took a long sip of his drink.
Too bitter.
He made a note to tell Kendall... or, what was it? Kelcy? to be sure to store the espresso beans somewhere cool and out of the sunshine.
“You’re not understanding me,” Giovanni said. “But you will. This is your last day on this yacht, son. You’re going to visit Dayton, Connecticut, tonight, with me. Tomorrow, you will start work as a barista at the Dayton Glitter Cup Café and Bookstore.”
“You must be dreaming,” Sebastian scoffed. He took another sip of his drink, and wondered if his father had lost his marbles.
“I’m very serious about this, Sebastian. I’ve given it a lot of thought. I want you to take over the company for me. I’m going to be seventy this year. It’s time I retire. It’s time I hand the reins over to you.”
“Great,” Sebastian said. “Then hand over the company. I’ll take over so that you and Mom can tour Europe or whatever. But I’m not going to Dayton with you, and I’m definitely not working at one of our cafés... as a barista!” He laughed at the thought of it all—it was just so absurd. Then he looked out at the sparkling surf. “Dad, any chance we can wrap this up soon? I have some waves to catch.”
“Son, listen to me. Listen to what I’m saying...” Giovanni leaned in across the table. “I can’t support you like this anymore. I can’t ruin you like this.”
“Ruin me? Look around! I’m in paradise.” Sebastian motioned to the waves that stretched out around the boat, and the outline of several Hawaiian islands in the distance.
“You might think you’re happy, but you’re not,” Giovanni said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sebastian said, shaking his head. This talk about his father not supporting him was making him nervous. Sebastian had lived off of a seemingly endless stream of funds from his father for his entire life.
“Is this about that lecture you gave me last year, about taking more responsibility within the company?” Sebastian asked. “Fine, I’ll do it. Give me a meeting to run or something—I’ll make my way to our Italian headquarters right after I’m done here in Hawaii. I don’t have a problem with becoming a CEO.”
“But I do,” his father said. “You’re not fit for it. Not until you learn a thing or two. I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, Sebastian, but sometimes the most bitter pill to swallow is the very medicine we need.”
Sebastian stood up and walked away from the table. He had to step away from his father. None of this was making sense. Dayton—tonight? And tomorrow... working at an actual Glitter Cup Café? Impossible.
Though his father had owned the most successful bookstore and coffee shop chain in the world since Sebastian was just a child, Sebastian had never actually stepped foot in one of the chains. Let alone one in some shabby city in Connecticut, of all places. The East Coast of the US held little intrigue for him. In fact, he thought it might as well be one of the most boring places in the world. There was no beach to speak of, no place to park his yacht. He hated being landlocked. And all he could picture for the weather was gray skies and snow.
He looked out over the stretch of bay that led up to white, sandy beaches.
This is where I belong, he thought. Not Dayton. What is Dad talking about?
A hand touched Sebastian’s shoulder. It was his father, joining him at the railing.
Giovanni patted Sebastian a few times. “I know you’re a betting man, Sebastian,” he said, “so here it is: You’re going to work as a barista for one week—starting tomorrow, Monday, and ending on Friday. If, during that time, you can genuinely help a customer, I will hand over the Glitter Cup empire to you. If, however, you fail to truly help a customer, then you will be cut off from my support. You’ll be on your own, completely. And I won’t pass the company on to you.”
Sebastian felt his heart turn cold with fear. Was his father serious?
“Tell me this is a joke,” he said, turning to his father. “Ha ha. You got me.”
Giovanni shook his head. “No. You need to experience life as one of the very employees that makes our company live and breathe. That means no access to your bank account, son. I have an apartment rented for you in Dayton, which you’ll stay in for the terms of our bet. There’s a bus stop right out front of the apartment, which will take you to work.”
Sebastian groaned. “The bus? Seriously? I can’t take the bus.”
Giovanni ignored Sebastian’s outburst and went on. “And there’s more. At the apartment, you'll find clothing to wear. You won’t have access to any of your stylish attire, son. You’ve become far too reliant on your looks—so we’re going to change all that. You’re going to visit a barber and a makeup artist, first thing tomorrow. I’ve instructed them to change your appearance.”
Sebastian put his hand up to his shaggy locks. He had a professional cut every week, but always instructed them to leave it long. “No,” he said. “No way.”
Giovanni didn’t acknowledge his son’s protests. “As for food, you’re going to save your cash tips, and use them to buy yourself groceries.”
“For my chef to use?” Sebastian asked.
Giovanni shook his head. “No chef. No assistants, no masseuse, no personal trainers, no maids, no help, Seb. You’re going to hack it on your own, and hold down a job at the same time.”
He gave him one last pat on the back. “Oh, and if anyone finds out your true identity—that you’re a Costa—before the week is out, you lose the bet, too. If you lose this bet, Sebastian, you won’t inherit the company, and you’ll be cut off from your allowance. I’ll be off now. A car will pick you up at three here, and you’ll be in Dayton by midnight tonight so that you can start work tomorrow right after your... make-under. Happy birthday, son.”