Page 39 of Mad Rivals
It feels sort of like a drink between people who could become friends if we could plot a path to get past our father’s mistakes.
But first, I need to know what those mistakes are.
It’s a Friday night, so of course it’s packed when we walk in, but I slip the hostess some cash, and she manages to find us a table. Kennedy orders a vodka soda, I order a beer, and it sort of feels like the two of us are just continuing our phone conversation here in person.
I lean in a little closer so she can hear me over the loud din of bar noise on a Friday night, and she leans in, too. The smell of coconuts is strong this close to her, and it’s pulsing something unfamiliar down low in me.
Before I can open my mouth to speak, she says, “So how are you going to prove I can trust you?”
I chuckle at her forward question. “I don’t really have a plan, to be honest. I guess I’ll just be myself and hope for the best.”
“Because that’s worked so wellfor you so far?”
I shake my head. “Because I learned a long time ago that you get a hell of a lot further in life being yourself than by pretending.”
“What taught you that lesson?”
I shrug, not sure I want to get into it, but if I’m going to earn her trust, I need to show her who I am.
“Back when I was in high school, my senior year, we won the state championship. I went to a party with people I didn’t know, and I guess I was trying to prove something. I smoked some weed, not a big deal, but in hindsight, it could’ve cost me everything I’d been working toward. If the college I’d already committed to decided to slap me with a random drug test, I would’ve failed. It was in the morning when I woke up that I realized how stupid I’d been. I was trying to be the guy who fit in with everybody when I didn’t even care about those people. I didn’t even see most of them again. What did I care what they thought about me?”
She tilts her head as if my story affected her in some way. “Have you done any drugs since then?”
I press my lips together and shake my head as the server delivers our drinks. “Only prescribed or over-the-counter ones. You?”
She holds up her glass of vodka. “This is about as hard as I go.”
Seems our values align there.
“I try to live a clean lifestyle. I have to in order to stay competitive on the field, but in the offseason, I don’t mind kicking back with a beer or two on the weekend.” I hold up my bottle, and she taps her glass to mine.
“My friend Clem and I have been known to share a bottle of vodka over a weekend, but that’s about as crazy as it gets,” she says with a smile.
“Clem. That’s the girl from the office, right?” I ask, and she nods. “You two are close.”
She twists her lips, and my eyes flick there. “Very. She’s my best friend. We met our freshman year of college and have been inseparable since. We lived together after we graduated, worked these awful jobs in a terrible part of town, and quit together to start working for VBC.”
“It feels like there’s a blackmail story there,” I say with a twinkle in my eye, and she giggles.
“My parents have always wanted me to come work for the company, and I told them I would if they hired Clem, too.” She raises her eyebrows as if to say she got her way.
“Tell me more about your parents,” I say, and I notice the caution even in my own tone.
“You first.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s not such a good idea.” I chuckle, but then I continue anyway. “My father can be a dick, my mother can be totally absent, and somehow they got together at least seven times unless one of my siblings isn’t my full-blooded sibling.” I shrug as if it doesn’t much matter to me either way. “The seven of us were essentially raised by a team of caretakers—nannies, cooks, and housekeepers. My parents were always at the office. Always traveling for work. Always attending charity balls.” I take a long swig of beer before I press my lips together. “Your turn.”
She tilts her head a little, and she takes a sip of her drink, too. I notice hers is almost empty, so I signal the server to bring us another round.
“Similar except for my parents getting together seven times. Just the once.” She flashes a smirk. “Didn’t need to try again after the first attempt was so successful. But they both spent their days at the office. They had the nanny bring me by, likely to parade me around and pretend like they were good parents. They put me to work as soon as they could.” She’s quiet for a beat, staring into her drink, and then she drains it. “Sometimes I think the only reason they had a kid was to have someone to pass the company to.”
“Do you really believe that?”
She twists her lips a little, and then she nods. “Yeah, I do. And I don’t know if I’m really that person.”
I can’t help but wonder how much vodka she had before she arrived and whether she’d be as honest about that with her supposed business rival if she hadn’t had a few drinks first. I’m also wondering if she doesn’t think she’s the person to take over VBC because she doesn’t want it or because she already thinks of herself as a failure.
She seems to have a pretty good handle on what she’s doing despite only being there a short time. Maybe sheisthat person, and she just hasn’t realized it yet.
