Claimed Harder by Em Brown
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.”
“Their loss.” She turns to Bridget. “So what are you studying?”
“Public health,” Bridget answers.
“How cute. What is that?”
“Elaine’s not familiar with a lot of majors,” I explain. “She majored in how-to-find-and-marry-rich. That’s why she went to an Ivy League school.”
Elaine fakes a laugh. “You’re so funny, Darren.”
Undaunted, Elaine continues to ask questions of Bridget, remarking “cute” every other sentence. I can’t wait for dinner to conclude. When Bridget goes to use the restroom before dessert is served, I turn to Elaine.
“Back off Bridget,” I tell her.
“My, my, we’re testy. Is she not putting out for you?” Elaine puts her hand on my thigh again. “I can— Ow!”
Still holding her wrist tightly, I put her hand on the table. It draws the attention of a few others.
I lean to whisper in Elaine’s ear. “Don’t sit next to us again.”
I get up from the table and wait for Bridget outside the ladies’ room.
“What’s up?” Bridget asks when she comes out and sees me.
“Don’t feel like dessert,” I answer.
“Okay. You want to sit by the pool?”
“Sure.”
We walk over and settle into a plush sofa before an open fire pit.
“So, how come you didn’t throw soda in Elaine’s face?” I ask.
“Because I have manners. I don’t want to make a scene right before Andrea’s wedding and in front of your relatives.”
“Fine. But you wanted to, right?”
Bridget grins. “Not really. It was more fun watching you struggle with playing footsies with her.”
She knew?
“She won’t bother you anymore,” I say.
Bridget shrugs. “She doesn’t bother me that much.”
“Really?” I don’t believe it. After seeing Elaine fawn over me once, Kimberly was ready to tear the woman’s hair out. “She was pretty catty to you in a passive-aggressive way.”
“That’s her issue.”
“So how come you didn’t have any problems throwing your drink in my face?”
She thinks for a moment. “Somehow, you push my buttons more.”
I’m okay with that, given I know how to push the right buttons. I pull her into me. Her body next to mine has a calming effect. It feels like everything is right in the world.
Until Bridget asks, “You ever sleep with her?”
I rub my mouth and jaw. Damn women’s intuition. “Once,” I answer. “Years ago.”
“She’s still into you.”
“You jealous?”
Bridget scrunches up her face. “Why? Just because you slept with her?”
I stare at Bridget. How is she not jealous? The women I’ve been with have always hated any ex-girlfriends or sex partners of mine. “What if I invited her into a threesome with us?”
“If I wanted a threesome, she would not be my choice.”
“Yeah? Who would?”
Bridget cranes her head to look back where we were sitting. She picks out one of the bridesmaids. “Lisa.”
“Why Lisa?”
“She seems fun and doesn’t seem to take herself too seriously. Who would you pick?”
This could be dangerous territory to discuss, like answering when a woman asks, “Does this make me look fat?”
“Lisa,” I second.
“Why?”
“Her boyfriend’s annoying. It would be fun to watch him turn green with envy.”
“Is he the world-revolves-around-me-because-I-went-to-Harvard guy?”
“That’s the one.”
Bridget laughs. I’m surprised we’re having a conversation about menage, even if it is hypothetical, without Bridget getting wierded out by it.
“You ever been in a threesome?” I ask, wondering if maybe she’s not as wholesome as she appears.
“No. Have you?”
I regret my question now.
She interprets my silence. “You have. Is it something you do a lot of?”
“No.”
“You ever do a threesome with Kimberly?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. Don’t worry. I’m not going to judge you.”
“Does it matter what I did with Kimberly?”
“No.”
She leaves it at that. We sit in comfortable silence until a server comes by and asks if we want anything. We both shake our heads.
“How much do I owe you for dinner and room service?” Bridget asks.
“JD took care of dinner. But why are we back on this topic?”
“You said I could help pay for the meals.”
“That was before I said we do the trip my way.”
“All right. I probably could only afford to pay for two meals anyway.”
“One and a half,” I correct, recalling she said she has seventy-eight bucks to spare.
“I know I gave you a hard time before coming,” she tells me, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate all this. It’s probably the most amazing trip I’ll ever have in my entire life. I’m so grateful, I’ll put up with a hundred Elaines.”
She rests her head against me, and I kiss the top of her head and smell the shampoo from her earlier shower. Looking out into the horizon, the sparkle of lights in the distant cliffside, I marvel at the view. I’ve been to Phuket before and looked at similar vistas. But tonight, it looks more special.
My moment of peace and contentment doesn’t last long, however. A couple of men are sitting down in the alcove next to ours, and I recognize the voice of Joseph Mok.
Mok, sporting a buzz cut and a dark Stefano Ricci blazer, spots me. Preston asks him something, diverting his attention.
Amy and JD plop down on the sofa beside us, both of them holding drinks decorated with a hibiscus flower.
“Hey, we’re doing a couples’ spa treatment tomorrow,” Amy says. “You want to do one, too?”
I look to Bridget, who hesitates, probably because she feels too guilty to indulge in one, so I answer for her. “Sure.”
“I thought we could go into town,” Bridget says.
“We can do that, too.”
“My sister told me I need to go to Jungceylon. I totally want to check it out.” She turns to JD. “Can we?”
“’Course, babe,” JD answers. He looks over at me. “My aunt try to hit on you again?”
I stare at JD. He had to bring that up?
“OMG, you’re not serious?” Amy gasps.
“I think she’s had the hots for Darren since he was sixteen.”
“That’s gross.”
“We had Darren over one summer—”
I interrupt. “You want to shut the fuck up?”
Bridget straightens. “What happened?”
JD catches my glare. “Nothing.”
“Something must have happened.”
“I don’t want to know,” Amy says. “I mean, she’s so much older.”
“Only by like sixteen years,” JD says.
“Still, she’s like a cougar.”
JD makes cat claws with his hands. “Meow.”
“And isn’t she related?”
“She married into the Lee family, so she’s not a blood relative.”
I glance over to where Mok is sitting with Preston and the other groomsmen. Mok is staring at me. He clearly hasn’t forgotten what happened between us back in Vietnam. His gaze lowers to Bridget. Instinctively, I tighten my arm around her.
