“Are you fucking serious?!” someone somewhere shouted. “The tab clearly says Table Eight has a shellfish allergy! In all capitals!”
“Yes,” I said dryly as his friends chuckled. “Nothing beats dinner and a show.”
Marco’s lips twitched in amusement. “How’s it going out there?”
“Well, I’m currently inhere,” I told him. “So how do you think?”
“I thought you maybe wanted to briefly exchange pleasantries,” he said, keeping his voice light.
I rolled my eyes.
In response, Marco tugged one of the empty chairs away from the table and gestured for me to sit. I did, less than gracefully because of my semi-formalwear. “What’s happening?”
“Um…” I hesitated, glancing at his friends. They didn’t look fazed in the least. What did they know? Nothing? Something?Everything?
“Carina said you looked excited earlier,” one of the guys said. “You wouldn’t stop smiling at…” He paused. “David?”
“Davis,” I corrected, turning to include the whole table in the conversation. They obviously knew I was here on a date. “And Iwasexcited—super excited—but that was before I found out that hisex-girlfriendwas dining with us!”
If I were with the bridesmaids, they would’ve gasped, but the Princetonians simply absorbed tonight’s plot twist with calm and casual nods.
It was a bit disappointing, to be honest.
“What are your names?” I asked.
“Simon,” said one.
“Zach,” the second answered.
“Timothy Hobson-Kirby the fourth,” proclaimed the third.
Marco chuckled. “Tim, you’re such a pretentious prick.”
“Make sure that goes on my headstone, Marco,” Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV joked.
I smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Mads.”
“We know,” Simon and Zach said simultaneously, so I assumed Carina had mentioned my name.
“Okay, so his ex?” Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV looked unimpressed. “Really?”
“Yes,” I said. “He mentioned her when we first met, but it sounded like he was pretty much over it, so I completely spaced.”
“It doesn’t matter if you spaced,” Marco said as a Coke was set down in front of me. I took a grateful sip, wondering how and when he’d ordered it. “What matters is that Davis didn’t tell you she was part of tonight’s group. You deserved to know that.”
“Especiallyif there’s still shit between them,” Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV added. “How’d you find out?”
I told them.
“Ah, I’ve encountered several Natalies in my day,” Zach wistfully said, Simon elbowing him in the ribs. “I’m sorry, Mads.”
“She’s probably not a raging bitch,” I backtracked (because I had called Natalie one). “Davis is a nice guy. He wouldn’t havedated someone like that.”
“He might’ve,” Zach said while a server delivered five ramekins of crème brûlée, caramelized to perfection. “Nice guys can still have questionable taste.”
Yeah, I thought.Like my brother…
Marco cracked his dessert’s burnt-sugar shell with a spoon. “I don’t like that he didn’t give you a heads-up, Mads. It kind of proves Natalie’s point that you’re a prop, not a date. He might like you, but…” He shook his head.
