Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The Cobalt Club was alive with beautiful, decadent music and swaying couples swirling around the dance floor. Lamont sat at his usual table opposite his uncle sipping from a martini and taking bites from his food.
“So…you and that Lane woman…” the older man began after a while.
“Margo,” Lamont corrected him, taking a another bite from the expertly cooked steak on his plate.
“Hmm, yes,” Wainwright nodded. “You seem to be getting rather attached, even the newspapers have noticed it and…”
“I don’t care what they print…Actually, come to think of it, I sell a lot of papers for them, don’t I? Maybe I should care. I’m due a cut of their profits,” he mused dryly.
“She’s…odd…” his uncle continued, and ignored his sarcastic quip.
“She’s brilliant,” Lamont said.
“You need to be careful, Lamont. You’re probably the richest man in New York…”
“She’s not after my money…”
“Well, how do you know?”
“I know,” he rolled his eyes. “Besides, she’s not exactly destitute. She doesn’t need my money to live perfectly comfortably by her own means. Her mother left her quite a vast inheritance when she passed away.”
“And how on earth do you know that?”
“She told me,” Lamont said, with a shrug of indifference.
“She…told you?!” his uncle repeated.
“We do talk, uncle,” the younger man rolled his eyes. “I think it was after some of the first articles starting coming out in the papers. She thought it was funny that they all assumed she was a gold digger. Granted she’s hardly a billionaire, but it’s not as though she’d ever need to get a job. I think her exact words were ‘there isn’t enough money in the world to convince a sane woman to put up with you’,” he chuckled.
“Then what the devil is she doing with you?”
“Ouch. Right in the heart,” he pressed his palm over his chest, mockingly. “Maybe it’s my good looks and charming personality,” he said.
“Uh-huh,” Wainwright hummed. “Alright, so she says it’s not about the money. But it sure wouldn’t hurt,” his uncle sighed. “Look…I know you think I…I don’t mean to give you a hard time. But you’re family, you’re my only family, Lamont. I worry about you,” he admitted. “I’ve seen you carry on with a different woman every week sometimes but it’s been almost a month and…”
“And what?”
“I’ve never seen you this serious about a woman before.”
Lamont raised an eyebrow as he set down his cutlery and leaned back in his chair.
“Uncle…do you know just how many women I’ve dated?
“No. And frankly I don’t need to know,” he answered quickly
“A lot,” Lamont told him. “But Margo isn’t like them.”
“She hears voices, so people say.”
“Rumours,” he shrugged. “People tell all sorts of stories when someone doesn’t conform to social norms. An unmarried, beautiful woman living on her terms, with her own money, is bound to make people jealous.”
“True enough, I suppose,” Wainwright admitted.
“Besides, since when did I care about what people think?”
“Never, clearly,” he scoffed, ruefully.
“Right,” Lamont nodded. “I don’t and I never did. And neither does Margo.”
“Alright,” Wainright gave a shrug. “Fine. There’s no talking to you once you’ve made up your mind. You get that from your mother, you know. My sister was always headstrong. Runs in the family.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Lamont drawled.
“But you can hardly blame me for asking. Your last relationship was history after just three days. It may as well have been a world record for the shortest relationship in history.”
“Ah, Alicia,” Lamont gave him a boyish grin. “It may have only been three days…but what a fantastic three days they were.”
His uncle rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his meal.
“Alicia was a contortionist, you know,” Lamont said suggestively after a minute of silence and his uncle let of a sigh of exasperation which only made Lamont chuckle deeply.