He looked at a couple across the room; the girl must have said something the guy did not like because he was frowning. The watcher tried to match the ...rown; tightening the muscles in his forehead. When he thought he had it right he moved on to the next table; two women were talking, one laughing while telling a story. He smiled and pretended to say words, his lips moving, to see if he could keep the smile on his face; he was pleased with the results. He looked on to the next table and saw a man. . socially speaking. We all remember high-school… but can you remember that popular math-head? Neither can I. I remember having kissed only two girls throughout high school. Two! I knew morons who misspelled their own names who'd had more action than I did. As horny as the next teenager, or more, this led to countless bathroom visits to relieve my ever-rising boners. Short skirts, giggly girls, panties-peeking, P.E. tights, it was all too much for a boy who was always on the edge. If I were a. K.’s banner. Others held up pictures of me or signs showing their support of me and condemnation of their prime minister.“These have plenty of worth!” a woman had written across her large, pillowy breasts. She shook them at me as we passed, violating the decency laws of her country.“Good, good,” I said, smiling at Bethany.My daughters were all in the limo with me, my core team. They were joined by my intern Jen, her engagement ring glinting on her finger. I couldn’t wait for her wedding to my. And now, with a son on the way...”“Yes, yet another Cord about to enter the lists,” I said.“Sort of,” he said.“Sort of? What does that mean?” I said.“He’s going to have a hyphenated name,” he said.“What? What’s that?” I said.“His last name will be Bradshaw-Cord,” he said. I stared at him.“Really,” I said, my tone indicating my indifference to his announcement.“Yes. Look, can we talk. I mean seriously talk and maybe come to an understanding or two?” he said.I shrugged my tentative okay..