"You threaten him."
"I did not threaten him."
"No," Hugo shakes his head. "Youthreatenhim. Your presence." He orders another round, but I decline. When the bartender leaves to fill the order, he turns to me and says, "Imagine you're Duke. You're about to marry Daisy, it's a big deal wedding. The whole town is excited about it. The St. James and the Hamptons have a long history, one that will finally be shared. And now here you come, a guy who Duke remembers his fiancée loving. He remembers the way you and Daisy ran around together. We all do. So here he is, watching and waiting for Daisy to change her mind about him. How do you think he feels?"
Like he doesn't actually love Daisy, and she needs to have one night with me to get me out of her system.
I can't say any of that of course, because that's a Great Big Secret, to go along with my own.
So I say, "I'm guessing Duke feels like he'd prefer if I left town and never came back."
"Something like that." The bartender sets down the next round, and I help Hugo carry it. "For the record," Hugo says, "I don't want you to leave. If I could write down my perfectoutcome, it would be that you and Daisy and Duke could find a way to coexist."
I chew on that for a moment, then say, "What if Daisy loves me, Hugo? What happens then?"
Hugo's worried gaze slides over to me as we walk around tables that are now full. "Then I'd say you better act fast. Their wedding is fast-approaching."
We get to the table, and Hugo slides a beer in front of Duke. "I was drinking whiskey," Duke says irritably, a slight slur thickening his words.
"They were out," Hugo lies smoothly.
Duke drinks his beer in silence, then announces it's time to leave. Hugo, Elijah, and Chris have just joined a pool game, so Hugo points at me and says with a wicked gleam in his eye, "Penn, you're on Duke duty."
I flip him the bird as he walks away laughing.
"Let's go, asshole," I say to Duke, watching him stand up unsteadily from the booth.
We get outside, the quiet and cool night air a welcome reprieve from the sounds of sports games, and the intermingling smells of cologne, aftershave, and beer.
Duke steps toward the parking lot, swaying.
"Order an Uber," I bite out. I have almost no tolerance for this person right now.
Duke picks the closest car to lean on. "Want to know what I've been thinking about?"
I make a face. "Changing the part in your hair from the left to the right?"
He gives me a blank look.
"I don't fucking know, and I don't fucking care. Order a ride home." I'm two seconds away from leaving him in this parking lot, but then I realize I can't. Or, that I shouldn't. Because Duke is connected to Daisy. And if Duke does something stupid, andhurts himself or somebody else, it will reflect on her. Unleashing the town gossip will make life harder for Daisy.
"Nope," Duke says, pushing off from the car. He scans the parking lot, his face lighting up in recognition when he spots his huge, ultra-luxury SUV. He bumbles that way, and I follow. I'm not going to let him drive, but he can at least wait there for a ride home.
When he reaches the vehicle, he opens up the back left passenger and climbs inside. Door wide open, he gives me a contemptuous look and says, "I was thinking about how instead of going to the St. James farm and telling Daisy's family your intentions, you could do one even better."
He waits for me to say something and when I don't, he continues. "You could tell the whole town you love Daisy and you're going to win her from me. The sad boy who hurt the town princess in a car accident has returned to steal her heart from the man whose ancestors founded the town. The man who subsidizes the library program. Who founded an outreach program for low-income kids to receive bikes at Christmas. The man who?—"
My fist lands squarely on his cheek. He topples over, yelling unintelligiblyone time, and then he's quiet.
I walk around the backside of the car, open up the other passenger door, and check for a pulse. Not because I'm worried there isn't one, but because I feel like it's the right thing to do. And, just like I thought, he's passed out cold.
I close the car door, return to the other side and make sure his feet are tucked in, then close that door too.
He'll wake up with a headache, and a sore jaw courtesy of yours truly, but he'll be fine.
I don't need someone else telling me I'm not good enough for Daisy. That I never was in the first place.
I know that already.
