A Madness Most Discreet by Laura Lascarso

Author:Laura Lascarso [Lascarso, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Laura Lascarso
Published: 2020-06-19T23:00:00+00:00

12

the benefactor

I’d researched Matteo Giacomo long before our meeting. Thanks to a few profile pieces and a more-than-adequate Wikipedia entry, I’d learned that his family had immigrated from Italy to New York in the early 1900’s. His grandmother had been a seamstress and his grandfather had worked in textiles. They’d owned several prosperous clothing shops around the city, but their real fortune had been built on their numerous patents, some of which were still being utilized in modern-day sewing machines.

Nowadays, the Giacomo name was known for their elegant formal attire—bridal gowns, cocktail dresses, and men’s suits—but the company had been branching out into more casual wear, including the fitted chinos Arden favored. I’d gathered that Matteo was the brand’s creator and innovator, while other family members managed the business, marketing, and distribution elements.

An artist, like myself, but certainly not a starving one.

We’d been invited to drinks at Matteo’s private residence. He lived in a quiet, (extremely) affluent neighborhood in the Upper East Side where mid-sized apartments sold for millions. A search through the property appraiser’s website told me that Matteo owned his entire building, worth a cool $50 million, at least. I’d known Matteo was wealthy but being confronted with its magnitude was an altogether different experience.

Arden and I shared a cigarette on the street to settle our nerves, passed between us like thieves. After, Arden rinsed his mouth with travel-sized mouthwash and spat into a bush. When I asked why he bothered, he said, “Matteo doesn’t like it when I smoke.”

I tried very hard to keep my expression neutral. “What about your hair and clothes?”

“That could have been you.”

Did Arden lie to Matteo? Had he lied to me as well?

“Michael, you have that look.”

“What look?”

“Like you want to throat-punch someone.”

I took a moment to unclench my jaw and inhale deeply. Arden forced himself into my arms and kissed me as reassurance. The lingering taste of smoke reminded me we were co-conspirators in this.

“I’ve never felt like I had to steal something from another man,” I confessed.

“You’re not stealing anything. I’m yours already. Matteo knows that.”

“How should I treat him, then?” I needed clarity, and Arden had given me very little to go on.

“Treat him like he’s my employer.”

“Is he going to…” I couldn’t articulate my fear. Or bear the thought of having to watch this man—a stranger—put his hands on my lover.

“No. It’s just drinks, Michael. Relax.” He rubbed my tense shoulders for a moment, then kissed my neck, just beneath the collar. He dragged me by hand to the front door, black wood surrounded by stone masonry. Stately and imposing. After a buzz to the butler and a message announcing our arrival, the door unlocked, and we let ourselves inside.

“This is where he meets with clients,” Arden said, waving in an offhand way to the large, open gallery with marble floors and tidy racks of clothing throughout. There were several sitting areas with plush, comfortable furniture, as well as fitting rooms and a few raised platforms surrounded by mirrors where I presumed clients were dressed.

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