Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance(98)

“I’m being pleasant.”

“Drinking too much and grunting at everyone is pleasant?”

“Is for me.”

“At least try, Cole.”

Before I could come up with some witty retort, my mother walked onstage and the crowd slowly quieted.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, “thank you for coming.” The crowd applauded politely. “There have been huge changes here with Semingo, as everyone knows. When Semiotics Inc. and Blingo merged last year, nobody was sure where that would lead. What was a major producer of computer components doing merging with a software company? Well,” she said with a flourish, “now you all know.”

The crowd clapped louder.

“I don’t know,” I whispered to Alexa.

“Semingo. New company,” she whispered back.

I shrugged, my eyes glazing over as my mother continued her presentation. It followed the standard formula of thanking the shareholders, the board members, and every other old and rich and important member of the company. Next she talked logistics, going over numbers and such, and finally she ended with projections.

It was all well and good but boring as hell. I tuned it out after ten minutes, and then suddenly a spotlight was shining directly on Alexa and me.

Alex was giving me a look, and I glanced up from my drink. People were staring, and Alex was standing. I ambled to my feet and raised my glass to the room, smirking.

“Our children, everyone,” Cindy said. “Frank and I are so proud of them and are so happy they could be here.”

Scattered applause. We sat back down. Alexa scowled at me. “You’re doing more harm than good.”

“Maybe,” I grunted.

And the speeches continued. When Cindy was finished, she rejoined our table, shooting me looks. It was easy to ignore her when Alexa was so damn distracting by my side.

We were forced to sit through increasingly dull people talk about increasingly mindless things. Even Alex was looking a little haggard at the end of the first hour.

“Hey,” I whispered in her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

“We can’t leave,” she said. “It’s not over yet.”

“Won’t leave,” I said back. “We’ll just take a break.”

She gave me a dubious look. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. I can tell you’re ready to claw your own eyes out.”

I stood up as the speaker finished onstage. She had a moment of indecision, and then she quickly stood to follow me. As the people clapped and the staff bustled to freshen drinks as the next speaker set up, we skirted around the edges of the large banquet hall. We came up toward the bar, and as we passed I grabbed a bottle of whisky, pushing it into my jacket. I quickly went out an emergency exit and into a stairwell before anyone noticed.

Alexa was right on my heels. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” I took a slug of the whisky as we climbed up the steps. I could hear the clacking of her heels on the concrete steps as she followed me.

“Did you steal that?” she asked.

“It’s an open bar.”

“Give it here.”

I handed her back the bottle and she took a swig, making a face. “Whisky is gross.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

“Shouldn’t things just, like, taste good? And not have to be acquired?”

I shrugged. “Sometimes the best things seem bad at first. Come on.”

We reached the top of the stairs and I pushed out the door.

“Wow,” Alexa whispered.

I had to agree. The door led out onto the roof, and the view of the bay was incredible. We were pretty high, and the night sky was clear, so everything was visible. We walked over to the edge and leaned up against the brick, looking out over the water.

“Beats that shit downstairs,” I said.

“I have to agree with you there.”

“Think your dad will be pissed we left?”

“What do you care?”

“Guess I don’t.”

I took a sip of the whisky. I had never loved San Francisco that much before I left the states, but I had to admit that it was pretty beautiful. Sure as hell beat the shit out of the stinking Thai jungle.

“Why don’t you and your mom get along?” Alex asked suddenly. “Too much of a bad boy to be nice to mommy?”

I laughed, looking at her. “Not exactly.”

“Then why?”

“Does it matter? You just want a divorce from me.”

“I guess not. But we’ll still be stepsiblings after the divorce.”

I leaned closer to her. “I tell you something, and then you have to tell me something. Deal?”

“Fine. Deal.”

“Cindy is an intense woman, but you’ve noticed that by now. She’s been pushing me hard ever since I was a young kid. When my dad died, it only got worse. When I decided I’d rather go into fighting than business, I guess I disappointed her. She hasn’t let me forget that since.”