My Mother's Boyfriend

The Charity Gala

Alejandro

“Mr Micheal,” Aldo, the man of tonight’s big fuss at the gala, greets us from across the hallway. Champagne, live music and designer wear are surrounding us as we make our way inside from the brightly lit hallway, towards him.

His suit- along with every other guest here tonight, cost a few thousand dollars. He’s handsome with his slick-back chestnut-brown hair, striking brown eyes and a winning even-teeth smile that has women crawling from all corners to his feet. But what a waste of a man- he's gay. I know it’s not a nice way to think but fcuk the world and its hypocrisy.

A man is made for a woman and a woman is made for a man. And that’s my personal opinion.

Peter is on his radar and was requested by the man for tonight. Since I wish to be on good terms with him, I drag Peter along, protesting every mile or so.

Aldo ignores the stares of longing from the females, wearing a broad teethless smile, cutting through the slightly crowded room to us as we walk over to him. His walk is slow as if to draw Peter to him. It won’t work. “Congratulations are in order? I heard you tied the knot.” His voice holds no trace of his heritage. His accent is one of the locals and only if you knew his story would you know he is Italian born. He raises one hand and adjusts his unneeded-to-adjust, very luxurious cufflinks.

Classic move to show we are unaffected by whatever is being said, regardless of if spoken or being spoken to.

Yup, I did. An actual knot when we did the whole part of the tradition for Maya. Three knots represented me; the bridegroom's pledge to accept Maya as my wife through three channels: thoughts, (Manasa), speech (Vacha), and actions (Karmana). I cannot remember the rest of what the Hindu priest was saying. Plus, he spoke mostly in a different language and only spoke in English to guide me along.

But he did say that the walk we made around the burning fire represented the Fire God to be a witness to this sacred ceremony. Fire is one of the most powerful elements of nature and symbolizes light, power, and knowledge, he explained to our guests who were all ignorant of this traditional aspect.

We took four circles around the ‘holy fire’, and then wedding attire was tied together by a long yellow linen to represent the union of our souls. Perhaps this is where the infamous ‘tie the knot’ expression comes from.

Come to think of it- following that, I had applied a reddish powder down the part of Maya’s hair which I was told was officially declaring her to be my wife. The man chanting had told us, it represented the bride as now married and he joked and said he hoped she keep up the tradition and wear it every day.

It’s funny that I had not given that another thought until now. Was that an actual thing? Come to think of it, I had seen a few older women wearing that red powder, but I had not had any thoughts on it- just maybe it’s some traditional thing in their country. Which I mean is accurate- somewhat.

It’s a marriage thing. Did Maya want me to do this?

“Thank you,” I say to him, in a guarded tone. I was wondering why my sometimes business associate and sometimes my enemy, invited me here tonight. And well, now I have it. He wanted to meet Maya. To test our chemistry, I realised in the next few minutes.

No qualms there.

The chemistry between Maya and I are a bit too much if you ask me. She likes snogging- especially the way I do it. Very rated.

A worrisome thought occurred to me then. This red dot...Was that the reason behind why Maya’s grandparents had been so cold towards her? Uma did tell me that they were a traditional family. Though I don’t recall seeing it on her forehead.

Peter, my unwilling date but he obeys when I demand it, date tonight, clears his throat as he comes to stand beside me, his hands on his lapels, that Aldo Conti. His Italian name is a title of rank known as “conte,” which means “count.” It simply translates to companion.

Aldo eyes Peter like eye candy, especially on the single gold ring he wears on his little finger, with a black centre-stone, surrounded by little diamonds. It was given to Peter by me and is of high value. It is a family heirloom but not the crest.

Because he saved my life for the first time. First; meaning there was the possibility of it becoming two and three, is not more. I needed Peter to always be there for me. I value him more than anyone.

I know Aldo still thinks Peter is my boyfriend and I probably only got married in name only to conceal my ‘true identity’ from the public’s prying eyes. A gay mafia? Unheard off.

“Is she here, Alejandro, I’d like to meet her?” His eyes finally leave Peter’s hands, and he holds my gaze as if he could detect any lies.

“Sorry no.” I will never bring Maya into this underworld, under the guise of a charity. It is too dark and she’s like sunshine. Fresh air and all that airy stuff. Like Uma, I will never allow my darkness to be in any part of their lives. “My wife is busy at home, getting to know her in-laws.”

“Is she now?” One of his eyebrows perks up and his jaw clenches as if he is irritated and that he knows I am ‘taking him out for a wild run’.

“Yes, she is. My wife comes from a very traditional family, Aldo. You could imagine their joy of her marrying me.” I deadpan and he grimaces. “She seeks solace with mine.”

“Very traditional,” Peter confirms for me and his fingers curl around my arm, giving him a flat look. I give Peter a sidelong glance, wondering why the fcuk he did that, knowing the man already had weird ideas about us.

“I see,” my sometimes-rival notes the grip and raises his chin, proudly and Peter’s hand tightens on my bicep.

Aldo and I sometimes clash when we do business with the same people- yes, he is in the same business as me but unlike me, he is made. Self-made is always better than being handed things.

My father made this business for me. And his father for him.

Aldo Conti made himself. From a starving kid on the streets with a young sister to care for, this boy grew up a tough man. Ruthless he can be, according to the rumours, though I have not had the gratification. He’s a bit younger than me but way more scarred than me. Internally, I mean. While I played the ‘tough boy’ role and left home thinking of making it on my own- Aldo was doing it.

Street hard. It makes a man brutal.

Just a few weeks of starving and living on my own, paying my bills- had me running back home to my accustomed lavish lifestyle. Aldo Conti never had a home to run back to. There was a time, he frequented in my cousin Brando’s strip joint, and he and I had a few drinks together. He’d given me that detail about his past and I gave him mine and we both laughed at my childishness.

I respected him. I may not like him, but I sure respected the hell out of this man.