Free Madman's Thirst by Lawrence de Maria

he’s a regular on the yacht. He advertises with us and we carry his celebrity
reality show on some of our networks.”
    “The one where they eat
cockroaches from his hotel rooms?”
    “No, you ass. The one where he
hires…oh, why do I bother with you! Stop laughing! Ari might be able to help
you with the NASCAR people. He likes to race Formula 1, like Paul Newman did,
and has contacts in NASCAR. Remember when all the big drivers brought their
cars to Times Square for that photo shoot when the Staten Island project was
announced. I think they stayed at one of his hotels. He’s hosting a charity
thing at the Met Saturday night. Shields took a table. You can be my date.
We’ll probably all go back to Ari’s place afterwards and you can get to know
him.” She paused. “He’s a fascinating man. You’ll like him.”
    Emerald Shields didn’t mention
that Aristotle Arachne had made it very clear that he found her just as
fascinating. And had confided that his marriage was on the rocks.
     

CHAPTER 9 – NEW TRICKS
     
      They were on the sidewalk
outside the Gotham. A group of chattering students hurried past them and
entered a small Indian restaurant a few doors down. Despite being full, Scarne
savored the smells emanating from the place. That was one of the things he
liked about the East Village. With NYU, Cardozo, the Fashion Industry of
Technology and other schools nearby, restaurants and businesses catering to
student wallets were plentiful. Some of the best food in Manhattan – Indian,
Italian, Japanese, Greek, and even French – was readily available for a
relative pittance. And the college-age kids lent a happy urgency to street
life.
    “Would you like to come back to my
place?”
    Scarne was surprised. Not by the
offer, but by the location. Both their apartments were nearby, but they always
went to his. Then he remembered the sleepover.
    “What if Becky has a tummy ache
and wants to come home?”
    “I told Fanny to call me if that
happened.” She smiled wickedly. “My girlfriends like their little conspiracies.
They’re always trying to fix me up. This might keep them off my back.” She
laughed. “That’s funny, on my back to get them off my back.”
    “Are you drunk, Emma?”
    “A little. Come on. Let’s go to my
place. Afterwards, I can lounge and eat bonbons and watch crappy TV shows like
a normal woman for a change.”
    Emma lived in a brownstone on 10 th Street. Most of the rest of the family lived in Connecticut, but with her
increasing responsibilities in the company, she found that a Manhattan address
gave her more time with her daughter. Between business and her duties as a
mother – and she was a devoted mother – Emma had little time for a regular sex
life. She told Scarne that she had been celibate during the final year of her
husband’s illness and her one or two forays after his death had been furtive
and unsatisfying. Then Scarne came along. They had been friends and occasional
lovers for about six months, but Scarne had been clear that he wasn’t ready to
risk his heart again, just yet.
    “I know you think I got you on the
rebound,” Emma told Scarne one night after he apologized for his reticence,
“and that I helped get your head straight after what happened, but I had
selfish motives, as well. You’ve helped me as much as I may have helped you.
You’re the only sex I can fit into my busy schedule.”
    She had said the line flippantly,
and he laughed, but he knew it to be at least partially true. He admired her
for her candor and practicality. Their roughly twice-a-month trysts, while
always satisfying and occasionally spectacular, were enough for her and left
him free of encumbrance. Neither knew where their arrangement would eventually
go, and that made their lives more interesting in the interim.
    Emma’s house was three blocks
away, and they walked casually, until she said, “Why are we walking so slowly?”
    “I don’t know. I guess I don’t
want to seem too