Lag (The boys of RDA #2)(9)
A short paragraph detailed the sale of Dragons Reborn. The designer and Trey’s best friend, Finnegan McRyan, gave Trey an undisclosed amount of money and then made him CEO of the company. The site didn’t list any legal battles or other company upheaval like you'd expect from a multi-billion-dollar deal. The paragraph after listed the games Raven Digital Arts has sold.
The shortest paragraph included information on Trey’s early life. I didn’t want to read it because what if I mentioned a fact about him that he hadn’t told me yet? It would be horrible, but I mean it was right in front of me. I couldn’t not look. In the end it wasn’t exciting. Trey grew up in Northern California and then attended Stanford University — rooming with Finnegan — before they both dropped out before their senior year. That’s it. No drama. Considering what I put up with on a daily basis with my not-as-rich clients, it’s a little unbelievable.
Oh yes… well, there were pictures. The website didn’t mention Trey dating anyone now or in the past, but more than one of his pictures featured a tall striking redhead. She wasn’t referenced as a girlfriend, but she wasn’t named as a sister either. Plus, with the way her arms wrap around him in more than one shot, family is out of the question. Because I’m a girl and I’m crazy, I want to ask him about this nameless mystery woman, but I can’t admit I stalked him. So my lips have to remain sealed.
“I’ll take the steak, medium rare with fries on the side.” Trey places his order to the waiter I missed approaching.
Busy categorizing everything I learned about Trey today, I haven’t looked at the menu past my first glance as it was handed to me. My eyes fall to the front page and I order the first agreeable thing, the chicken Caesar salad.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls.” Trey looks disheartened as he hands back our menus to the waiter. We both watch him walk toward to hotel.
“What?”
His hand moves to his face and he rubs his jaw line with his thumb before he answers, “I didn’t peg you as a girl that refuses to eat in front of a guy or only eats salad. I’m sad to be proven otherwise.”
I release a quick laugh at his distress over my salad. I won’t admit I was lost in daydreams about him so rather, I lie, “I’m not, but I figured we're eating on the beach, and if I get sand in my food I don’t want to know. I’ll never be able to tell, but you’ll spend the whole meal making sure it’s pepper not snail poop decorating the top of your steak.”
Trey’s mouth hangs open, his face one of pure revulsion. To be honest I can’t believe I thought of something so well-crafted and disgusting, let alone on a time crunch.
“Great. Now I’ll never be able to eat steak. I’ll be checking for snail poop even once I’m back in San Francisco.” His eyes sweep back and forth on the blanket as if snails are waiting beneath it ready to swan dive on his plate when our food comes.
I laugh and he pops his head up with a smirk. He reaches into my striped SeaBag and pulls out the two waters he’d thrown in earlier when he picked me up. I drink from the one passed to me before I lie back on the blanket and stare up at the pale blue sky. Small fluffy clouds dot the area above us. An occasional seagull squawks in the distance and the waves rush ashore calming me with nature's song.
Trey’s head falls to the blanket next to mine as he releases a sigh. “It’s busy, yet peaceful here. I’m not ready to go back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? I thought yesterday you said you had three days left.” I start to panic, my earlier relaxation gone.
“Yeah, yesterday I had three day left. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow,” he answers as if that’s somehow sound logic for counting days while on vacation.
Trey’s leaving on Saturday rather than Sunday like I assumed. This morning was wonderful, but now I know it’s the only day I’m going to get, and I want to spread it out. Slow down time so we can share more of it together.
Emotions flow over me, but I answer with a crestfallen, “Oh.” My eyes never leaving the clouds above me.
He picks up on the sadness in my tone and rolls to his side to face me. “I’d stay if I could, but I have to get back to San Francisco. I left Finn in charge and while he’s capable for a week by himself, I worry he’ll start offering unlimited health care or free cars. We already provide housing and lunch to our employees. The man thinks he’s a skinny Santa Claus who delivers gifts year round. I’m actually more worried over the fact he hasn’t called me all week than I would be if there had been mini issues every day.”
His description of his purported closest friend wipes the sadness from my expression.
Trey sighs and settles to his back again. “I hope his girlfriend, Aspen, can keep him under control. She has the business sense Finn seems to lack.”
The admiration he expresses for Finn is evident in every word the man speaks, even those poking fun at his best friend. “You guys must get along well, huh?”
His head turns to me on the blanket again. “He’s my best friend. We met at Stanford where we roomed together. He planned to graduate college, get some posh job, and then design games in his free time. I pushed for what we have now. He even lost a girlfriend over it all. She was a bitch, but at the time he loved her. We sold our first game in college and I practically forced Finn to drop out to work on the company.”