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Chapter 20
DARREN
Past
After we return to the villa, I remove the balls for Bridget, order room service and take a dip in our pool with her. We join Andrea and Preston for dinner in a private area outside, overlooking the sea. Our party occupies two tables. There are four bridesmaids and groomsmen, plus the respective families of the bride and groom. I introduce Bridget to JD’s father and JD’s aunt, Elaine. JD’s father is not much for socializing and merely grunts. Elaine, however, takes more of an interest in Bridget, but not because Elaine is friendly.
“She’s so cute,” Elaine says, taking the seat next to me and setting down her aperitif. “I didn’t know you liked them so young.”
Bridget, seated on my other side, can hear everything Elaine says.
“She is legal, isn’t she?” Elaine asks
If I hadn’t brought Bridget with me, I might have ended up sleeping with Elaine. She looks youthful for her age, but regularly wears more makeup than some people don for Halloween.
“I’m legal,” Bridget answers for me.
I survey what’s around Bridget that might get tossed in Elaine’s direction.
Elaine smiles. “So where’d you guys meet? How long have you been together?”
“We met at my club,” I answer, “and I haven’t kept count.”
“A few months? Half a year?”
“Less than that.”
Elaine arches a dramatically teased brow. “And you’ve invited her to Andrea’s wedding?”
“I think JD dared him to ask the first person he saw,” Bridget jokes.
“That’s so cute.” Elaine twirls her fingers into the hair at the base of my neck and leans toward Bridget. “You’re so lucky, you know. There’s always a ton of women throwing themselves at Darren.”
“I am lucky,” Bridget says sincerely.
Elaine drops her hand from my head to my thigh. “Darren is a good family friend. He’s like a nephew to me, so I have to make sure he’s in good hands. Are you still in high school?”
I take Elaine’s hand off my leg. “Bridget goes to Cal.”
“Oh, really? Why not Stanford? They’re not too far from each other.”
Elaine knows perfectly well that those are fighting words for some diehard Oskis.
But Bridget doesn’t seem ruffled. “I didn’t get into Stanford. But even if I did, I still might have chosen Cal.”
“Oh, that’s silly. Who would choose Cal over Stanford?”
Beneath the table, Elaine rubs her foot along my calf.
“Where did you go to college?” Bridget asks as we’re served the first course. “Or did you go to college?”
“I went to Yale. It’s even harder to get into than Stanford.”
“Is it?” I challenge.
“I’m sure you would have gotten into either.”
“I didn’t apply to Yale. And like Bridget, I didn’t get into Stanford.”
