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“Manny could have a billion dollars, he’d still be a fucking loser.”
Like Drumm. But I keep the thought to myself. JD still wants me to join him as one of the ground-floor investors of the new golf and spa resort that Eric wants to build upstate.
“He’s always been a hanger-on,” JD says. “He’s been tailing us around since we were kids, always that third wheel slowing us down. Remember that time we ditched him in West Oakland back in high school? He wet his pants. I swear, if his mom hadn’t married a Vanguard, he’d be out of here in seconds.”
“Manny just wants to be like you.”
“I always thought he wanted to be like you. Either way, it’s irritating as hell.”
I recall what Manny said about JD’s possible expansion into sex trafficking. Unlike Manny, JD respects my desire to know less rather than more.
Amy returns and tells me, “Bridget wasn’t in the restroom. I’m not sure where she is.”
I look over the balcony again at the dance floor, the dining area, and the bar. No Bridget. I make my way to the third floor, which is a smaller seating area with a few highboys. No Bridget. Where could she have gone?
