9 | Patronage

◆  MILES ◆

"Good run?" Ricchar glanced to the labyrinth. "Is Mykaela in her room? Cloe will be back tomorrow. She can keep them entertained until Sunday."

Sunday? Oh. Right. It was my birthday this Sunday─actually the main reason I, Kel, and my parents were all here on this boring, weekend family vacation.

"Since all you plan to do is sulk after every little thing your Mamma Eleana says." My cousin Ricchar chuckled when I didn't say squat.

"I don't sulk." I poured myself a glass of wine. I'd already drunk two glasses during dinner, but my half-hour jog barely got rid of the muscle tension I was trying to alleviate. My back still ached as much as my legs, no thanks to the long drive.

"I get it, though. You can be so impulsive sometimes." Ricchar's ringless hand combed his curly bangs back. Then he put out his cigarette with his mud-brown leather shoe. "You're gonna be a year older, Maximiliano."

So? I almost scoffed at the reminder.

"Stop wasting time," my cousin sighed. "Your Mamma and Pappa are just waiting for you to step up, earn your spot in the business. Just give it a try." Ricchar grinned faintly at his half-full wine glass. "See how it goes for you."

"Can we just hang out here without the unsolicited pep talk?" I couldn't help but retort.

Smirking at my snappy tone, Ricchar took a sip of red wine and regarded me with his rummy gray-green eyes. "Still no plans to join the company?"

"I'd rather die in my sleep."

"Funny." Ricchar shook his head at the pessimistic response but reacted with a shit-eating grin. "You think it's gonna keep you too busy? And have no time for her?"

Her? The snooping tone made me put down the wine glass. Then I shut my eyes, about to slap my palm onto my face. Did he want to talk about Mykaela again?

"It took a while; yes. But Cloe understands my responsibilities now," Ricchar said next, clearly judging my relationship with Mykaela. "She doesn't complain anymore when I'm always traveling."

"Probably too busy to care, too," I mumbled before drinking more wine.

"Used to be difficult with her. But she learned to deal with it." Ricchar shrugged, obviously missing Cloe, his wife of several years. Ricchar traveled frequently due to the nature of his work, currently the COO of their shipping business, SF Shipping.  Ricchar had been appointed by Stefano to head the operations of their clan's most profitable company.

"Good for you," I replied monotonously, muttering the words while I held my wine glass. My muscles had relaxed, but my mind remained hyperactive.

Kel would leave the country in two days. Would she be saying her proper goodbyes in a matter of hours?  Did she have any plans of coming back?

The doubts convinced me otherwise. She was fixated on saving up to finish her studies─something I should be encouraging. But, right now, all I could think of was her untimely departure, and the reality that my best friend was leaving me to pursue a new and different life back home.

"I'm serious." Ricchar stared at me with a scowl that he only showed to his incompetent employees.  "Try to consider it; the business is growing, and we need more reliable people to help with the expansion."

At the idea, I could only sigh and ponder the possibilities. My older cousin had always been the fun one in the family─the joker, the life of the party, the social butterfly ever-so-present in most of Europe's exclusive gatherings with the top 50.

But when he talked business, I knew Ricchar always meant business. Being one of my Pappa Stefano's right hand guys, Ricchar had always been the big brother figure I looked up to. At times, I envied the coveted position my father had entrusted Ricchar.

But, actually working for my father?  Just not for me.  I couldn't imagine it for myself, especially with the list of consequences I would have to deal with. We were polar opposites─I was the introverted, freewheeling, come-what-may type, while Pappa was the perfectionist, control freak, and influential business mogul driven by nothing but money, power, and his social status. My Mamma Eleana was turning out to be no different.

I had much respect for my father, of course, but our personalities just clashed all the time. And I'd made it my goal to keep away from my own family, and live my own life until the day I drew my last breath here on Earth. Not only have they always been domineering and nauseatingly high-and-mighty...my parents were also pretentious, worldly, and faultfinding to no end.

"We're growing, and it's going to be a lot more work. Bigger areas to cover, more clients, suppliers, and dealers to handle on a daily basis." Ricchar straightened his sitting posture and eyed me with creased brows. "Do you know your Pappa is working on a deal with the Tomassini group?"

Tomassini? Why did the name sound familiar? I frowned and tried to concentrate.

"They set goals and expect us to follow through like nobody's business. It's why your Pappa and Mamma's been too busy all year."

"That's actually what happens every year, believe it or not," I retorted. I wasn't just sulking for no good reason. My parents were always busy growing their wealth and raising their status, so, naturally, they just didn't have the time to give a crap about my aspirations and non-business-related life goals. And as often as I pretended it didn't matter, our fragile family ties always reminded me of our dysfunctional relationship.

"They got eyes and ears everywhere.  Not even sure I can keep count." Ricchar stared at the black and starless sky, his tone rather ambivalent now. "Do you even know who we're talking about?"

"Tomassini." I sighed. "Banks, real estate, affiliated with the Rothschilds. Right?"

"In and out of the country. Zio Stefano's working out a deal with them."

"Pappa met with the current head of the group. True?" I questioned, now genuinely interested in the conversation. I'd met a certain Enzo Tomassini weeks ago during my art show. An inkling suggested it wasn't merely a chance encounter.  "I think I met his son." I drank more wine while trying to recall the exact date. "Enzo. You know him?"

"Ah. Lorenzio, the youngest." Ricchar crossed his arms and looked me in the eye again. "Are you still dating guys?"

"What?" I pulled a face.

Ricchar squinted at me, a mix of curiosity and puzzlement narrowing his eyes. "Does Mykaela know?"

So what?  I pulled a face at the sudden inquiry, about to shift the topic to avoid the issue. "Why would I keep it a secret?"

"Ah. So she's okay with it? I mean...her family's conservative as well, yes?"

"What's your point?" I looked away.

"I knew it." Ricchar stopped staring at me and laughed to himself. "But, just out of curiosity, why do you want to be with girls now?" Ricchar lowered his voice and waited for a response, obviously convinced of my "budding romance" with Kel.

Keeping up the pretense for another few days was going to be too easy, but I knew my parents would also throw a stupendous fit if they'd find out I'd been lying about the whole thing.

"So, she's special?" Ricchar grinned lopsidedly. "Is the sex better?"

I coughed and put my wine glass down, almost choking on the bittersweet drink.

It only made Ricchar laugh out loud. "I'm joking. Relax." He poured himself another glass of  wine. "You met her parents?"

"Just her sister." I wiped my wine-stained mouth with my palm.  "Why?"  I'd met Jill once in person;  she flew to Italy some months ago to accompany Mykaela to a photo shoot. Jill seemed cool about my living situation with her sister, so that's that. 

"Are they okay with her job? You said they're also quite strict."

"Her mom told her to quit modeling and just go back to med school."

"They're okay with her working and living here?" Ricchar hiked up his shirt's sleeves. The wine must be affecting his body temperature already. It was also a humid night.

"They don't particularly like it," I admitted with a sigh. "But they're okay." They just didn't approve of the fact that Mykaela was living alone with a guy they barely knew, and in a foreign country, at that.

Brushing the thought aside, I took out my phone and checked for new messages. There was one from her, surprisingly.

1 New Message

From: Mykaela

"Can we talk first thing? Sorry that upset u."

Received 11:14PM

Despite wanting to go back to her room and talk it out with her, I replied with a simple "Ok" and smiled to myself.  Apparently, I wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep after an argument. But we were both tired from the long drive;  our issues could wait.

"So you're not seeing that Tomassini guy?" Ricchar asked after a moment of silence. "You tell her everything?"

"I only met him because he bought my paintings in the last show."

"Ah,"  Ricchar said with a quick nod. "For a moment there I thought you were cheating on your first real girlfriend." My cousin lit another cigarette and shook his head faintly. "Don't be like me, Maxim. Doesn't do you any good."

The advice got me thinking again. My parents easily accepted the thought that I was living with Mykaela because we were (or seemed to be) in a relationship. Still, I knew how idiotic it was to pretend, only to convince them I was capable of commitment, being in a serious relationship, and with a girl  this time─something that their upstanding, pious morals didn't find disgraceful.

It was a harmless pretense, but I frowned at the clod of guilt that crept into my chest. Mykaela was only getting more confused;  I knew. I hadn't even tried to explain to her why I was doing it.   Tomorrow, I'd set things straight. Or at least try to.

"Why not just ask her?"

"Ask her what?" I sighed out loud, getting exasperated by the topic. I'd rather twaddle about Byzantine art than discuss my living situation with Mykaela. What for? It was starting to sound redundant and unnecessary.

"If she wants to make it official," my cousin casually suggested. "Way I see it, you're living together to test if it could work out."

"Never would I ever."

Why was my entire family too quick to suggest that I propose to Kel?  Just ridiculous.  There was absolutely no way I would ask Mykaela to pretend to that extent;  she was already preoccupied with her own family issues.

For a moment, I mulled over our last argument. So what if she just chose to leave Italy to go back home? Fine. No bitter feelings. It's her life; I shouldn't be intruding. I should just be supportive of her decisions. At least she worked hard and went after her biggest goals.

"No?" Ricchar creased his brows and drank more wine. "So it's just a temporary thing..."

"Why d'you think I would wanna work for the company?" I sat up straight, opting to change the topic to put a stop to my cousin's nosiness.

"Just try it." Ricchar put away his pack of cigarettes. "It would teach you a lot of things. Might even enjoy it."

Scoffing loudly, I reclined on the bench and appreciated the tranquility of the place. Old, thick trees surrounded the gardens. Tall, perfectly trimmed hedges formed the labyrinth that filled half of the acre-wide backyard.

The moonlight also provided the right amount of lighting as we sat alone in this beautifully landscaped garden. It just made me feel like I could open up and confide in Ricchar about my recent dilemmas. "What if I don't want my life now to change?"

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