Work Text:
“Soooooooo.”
Darcy lets herself plop down in the chair next to Stéphane. She sips from her cocktail.
“Which side of the wedding party do you belong to?” she asks him innocently. “I don’t think I have seen you before.”
Stéphane gasps, offended. “I’m with the groom!” he angrily spits out.
Darcy raises an eyebrow. “So you know Nick, then?” she asks, popping the k with a loud smack, and sips.
“He’s my son. Of course I know him.” He shuffles awkwardly on his chair.
Darcy gets up. Without turning around she leaves and says, “Well, I don’t think you do.”