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“So what changed?” she asks, looking for something positive from my admissions.
I take a deep breath and pause, thinking about how I want to phrase my answer. “Before I knew it, I had blown through half of my inheritance by partying, investing in risky biotech companies and settling two paternity suits.” I polish off my drink and slide it down the bar toward the bartender.
“Need a refill?” he yells back.
“We need some deep fried pickles and oysters sliders, too,” I reply with a nod.
“Silvia told me that a couple of women took advantage of you in college,” she admits sheepishly. “She suspected that I was trying to do the same thing.”
Fuck! She apparently did tell them everything. I take a moment imagining all that she might have said. “You’re too late anyway, I learned not to trust anyone,” I reply letting her know that I’m not that naïve college guy anymore. “I also figured out why Dad did business the way he did. The average investor is just out there flipping a coin, but wealthy investors always know exactly what they are buying.”
“So you think they are all using inside information?” Mandy’s eyes widen as if I had shared some sort of shocking revelation.
I laugh. “They all know each other and go to conferences together, so of course they have private conversations. Call it whatever you want, but the truth is they have access to information that most investors don’t hear about until it’s too late. It’s just a fact of life.”
“See! I think that’s sad. That’s why I became a lawyer,” she spouts with fire in her eyes. “To crack down on the kind of shit that your dad was doing. Don’t tell me you agree with the way he did business.”
“I didn’t say I agree with it. I said, I understand why he did it. He was making money hand over fist, while I could’ve just as well blown my money on lottery tickets,” I reply, trying to explain my rationale.
Mandy grows quiet, rubbing her thumb back and forth along the Guinness label on the side of her glass. She is obviously contemplating all that she has learned this afternoon. Finally in a small, quiet voice she asked, “It’s never going to change is it?”
“Not likely, but each of us can to decide whether or not we want to be part of the game,” I tell her softly.
“Do you?” she asks, finally looking up from her beer.
“Not any more,” I assure her. “I always wanted to prove to Dad that I could make it on my own. Now that he’s gone, I no longer have anything to prove.”
“That’s not true. The only person you need to prove anything to is yourself,” she states in a moment of profound wisdom. “There is no bigger enemy in this world than the one we carry around inside.”
“Smart and beautiful.” I smirk. “You are the complete package.”
“Whatever.” She blushes. “Try a deep fried pickle,” she says as the bartender sets them down in front of us.
Mandy
Even though Silvia had already told me that Trey had been forced to settle two paternity suits in his college years, I’m glad he told me the story himself. In my opinion there is no greater sign of respect than when someone shares their darkest secrets with you. As the two of us sit here getting to know each other better through oyster sliders, fried pickles and cocktails any remaining concerns I have about him begin to fade into the background. His phone is lighting up every few minutes, but he simply glances down at the screen and remains focused on our conversation. That is so cool.
“What time is it?” I ask after noticing that it has grown dark outside.
“Quarter after nine,” he replies, looking at his phone. “Oh, I just got a text from Liv. She says thanks, but she’s in good hands. Whatever that means.”
“I have no doubt that she will land on her feet.” Or more likely on her back. “Should we have one more here or go back to the hotel for one?” Not that I really need another one, but I’m having so much fun.
“Don’t you want to check out the hottest new clubs in the east village?” he asks, obviously teasing.
“No. I would prefer someplace quieter, not noisier.” I run my hand along the inside of his thigh.
“I’ll send Tony a text.” He picks up his phone and sends him a quick message. It must be nice to have someone waiting to haul you around anytime you feel the urge to go somewhere. Within a matter of minutes, Tony enters the bar.
“You guys go ahead and finish, but I’m double parked out front.” He laughs and turns to head back outside.
