“Bonne nuit, mon amie,” she told me. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”
“Buenas noches,” I replied. She laughed, and we went first to Danielle’s parents.
“I’m so happy you could come,” her mother said. Her father shook Adan’s hand and wished his father luck in running for the Senate. He also said he was sending him a contribution.
All of the students from our school whom she had invited surrounded Danielle, but when she saw us preparing to leave, she broke away.
“Why are you going so early?” she whined. “We’re just getting started. The band is going to play until two in the morning.”
Adan explained that my ankle was hurting, and we had to get me home to rest.
“Of course,” Danielle said. “Feel free to come back after you take her home,” she added coquettishly. He didn’t respond. “I hope you feel better soon, Delia. See you in school.”
“Thank you, and happy birthday.”
She smiled and returned quickly to her entourage. I looked about for Sophia and Christian. Adan sensed it.
“I saw your cousin leave a good half hour ago,” he whispered. “I’m sure it wasn’t to go home.”
The valet brought us Adan’s car and he put my crutches into the rear again.
“Well, that’s one kind of a birthday party,” he muttered as we drove down the driveway and out the gate. He looked at me when I didn’t respond. “I’m sorry Fani stirred up that hornet’s nest. She has lived such a privileged, rich life, traveling to every glamorous and expensive place, and living in that palace that I think she’s simply bored all the time and does things like this to amuse herself. I worry about her.”
“You worry about Fani? With all she has, beauty, brains, wealth?”
“Something important is still missing, Delia. She envies you.”
“Me? I have nothing compared to her.”
“You have a helluva nice new car,” he said, laughing.
“You know what I mean, Adan. I have lost my family. My cousin Edward is generous and sweet to me, but I will have to make my own way in this world. I have many burdens, burdens Fani can’t even begin to imagine.”
“I know, but it’s all made you stronger, Delia. I can tell, and so can Fani, and she is jealous of your inner strength, your pride. Believe me.”
I said nothing. It was comforting to hear these things, but I wasn’t sure whether it was simply flattery.
“I want to show you something, if that’s all right,” he said. “You don’t want to go right home, anyway.”
“Show me something?”
Those words, that idea, triggered my painful Bradley Whitfield memories.
“It’s just a piece of land,” he said. “I know what happened to you. Don’t worry. I have never forced a girl to do anything she didn’t want to do with me. Men like that are pathetic and insecure.”
“Where is this land? Why show it to me?” I asked, unable to hide my nervousness. Was this the lady’s man finally emerging?
“Just be a little patient. And a little more trusting,” he said, laughing.
We drove for a while, and then he made a turn that took us away from the lights and houses. The road he chose took us up a small rise. When he stopped, I saw we were looking back at the lights of Palm Springs. It was a breathtaking view.
“This is where I’m going to build my own house,” he said. “I own this land myself. My father has nothing to do with it.”
“The view is beautiful.”
“Yes, and I bought up the land around it for a good four acres of privacy on both sides.”
“When will you build this house?”