I flash him a “good luck” smile and take my plate of cake. As she gets up and tries to scoot in front of me, part of her drink spills onto my dress.

“I thought you were going behind me,” she explains.

I can’t tell if it was an accident or not. Either way, I’m done with Elaine’s company and am glad to have an excuse to leave.

“I’ll go back to the villa and change,” I tell Darren.

“I’ll go with—” Darren starts, but is interrupted by Elaine waving over a young woman.

“Stella! Come over here! You should talk to Darren about your wedding.”

“I won’t be long,” I assure Darren.

I head back to the villa and think through which of my outfits is nice enough for the wedding reception. I guess the sundress will have to do. Just before I open the sliding door, I hear a sound behind me. So Darren managed to extricate himself from Elaine.

But it’s not Darren. It’s Joseph Mok.

His tuxedo is an ocean-blue jacket with black pants. He stands so close to me that I can detect the faint smell of alcohol on him.

“Can I help you?” I ask in a tone that indicates I’m not ecstatic to see him.

“You weren’t very nice to me the other day,” he drawls.

“You were asking a lot of personal questions.”

“Didn’t mean you have to be nasty.”

I hate that the word “nasty” has become en vogue with men who don’t like it when women assert themselves. Of course, the men get away with being obnoxious bullies with much less reproach.

“I’m sorry you felt that way,” I say. “I think we’re just not simpatico.”

He reaches for me. “You can make it up to me.”

I push him away. Alarm shoots up my spine.

He grabs me again, growling, “What does Darren see in you?”

Recalling a move from a self-defense class, I jab the heel of my palm into his chin.

His head recoils, and he lets go. I take the opportunity to run away, back to the reception area.

Seeing me, Darren strides over. “Bridget, what’s wrong?”

I catch my breath first before answering. “I had a run-in with Joseph Mok.”

His features darken and his jaw tenses. “What happened?”

His expression makes me nervous, so I try to downplay the incident till Darren’s settled down. “Just being a jerk.”

Darren doesn’t buy it or doesn’t care. “Where is he?”

We both scan the reception but don’t see him. Seeing a woman approach from outside the area, Darren walks up to her. “You seen Joseph Mok?”

“I saw him go into the men’s room,” she answers. “The one behind the restaurant.”

Darren starts in that direction. I scurry to keep up.

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

Darren doesn’t answer.

I grab his arm, but he keeps going.

“I’m okay,” I say. “Nothing really happened.”

I have a pit in my stomach. Of course, I want to see Joseph get a reckoning, but I don’t want Darren to end up in jail.