Tucking them into my pocket, I glance at the front door and wish I could follow the woman who made me feel like me again.
“Good night, Shay baby.”
Chapter Fifteen
Golf is hard.
From under her visor, Jo shoots me a sympathetic look. It’s been almost an hour since we made it to the nine-hole golf course in Clear Lake, and I keep whiffing it.
According to Adri, that means I suck.
“It’s not too late to ask him to meet you on the soccer field,” Jo offers. “That’ll show Garrett how cutthroat you are. He’ll immediately sign you as his agent.”
“Can’t.” I stab a tee into the manicured grass. “Golf equals success as an agent. If I don’t master it today, I’m screwed.” I’m aware I sound delusional, considering professional golfers dedicate their lives to reaching the highest level.
Being invited to golf with Garrett felt like being invited to the cool kids’ table after eating alone in the library. I even let Adri convince me to wear a cute skirt today, hopeful it would give me magical golfing powers.
It isn’t working.
“I think you want it too much.” Adri swirls the pretty blue drink in her hand. “The ball can smell your desperation.”
Mallory hums. “She might be onto something. Empty your head and swing.”
“Yeah!” Adri claps. “Go ahead and give us nothing!”
Jo, the only one with golf experience, shrugs. “Why not? Doesn’t hurt to try.”
Emptying my brain, I step up to the tee and follow Jo’s instructions. Cover the red pieces of guiding tape? Check. Legs shoulder-length apart? Done. Bend the knees and push my hips back? Got it. Glare at the ball? Easy. Hitting it is the hard part.
“No thoughts,” I whisper and pull my arms back. A warm ray of sun hits my skin, and I think the golfing gods are finally shining down on me and lighting a path for the little ball to fly down the green.
Squinting, I search for the ball. “Where’d it go?”
Wheezing laughter answers my question, so ear-splitting that the silver-haired golfers around us stare, but that doesn’t deter my friends.
“Oh, sweet girl.” Adri chokes on a gasp. “It never moved.”
A scream rushes up my throat, muffled by my fist as I look down. The ball is still sitting on the damn tee.
“Maybe you should sign up for a class,” Mallory offers. “You’re heading toward Shayzilla, and although I love your feisty side, snapping a golf club over your knee may scare Garrett away.”
Shayzilla is my alter ego. She’s summoned when the wordscalm downleave a man’s lips or “Hips Don’t Lie” starts playing, but she’s also awakened by failure.
And I’m failing right now. Hard.
I thrust my club at them. “If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it?”
It’s a mistake, of course. Challenging Mallory is never a good idea. With a saccharine grin, she snatches a club. Everything about her movement is flawless, from the simplicity in her stance to the swing of her hips. The biggest difference between our attempts is that hers comes with thatsatisfying click, the sound of success. My failure intensifies when Adri hits the ball too.
I’m the only one here who sucks at golf.
As if she can sense my frustration, Mallory’s competitive spirit shifts into concern as she hands us each a water bottle. “Let’s try again at the first hole.”
I send a silent thanks her way as we head to the gleaming white golf cart. Jo hops into the driver’s seat with Mallory beside her, leaving Adri and I thigh to thigh in the backseat with the clubs. The other girls aren’t height-challenged like I am, so they’re sharing Jo’s golf clubs, and I’m renting.
Jo’s eyes meet mine in the rear-view mirror as she seamlessly maneuvers around other carts. “How are things going with Cade?”
Holding the claw clip in my teeth, I take my time roping my braids into a bun to think of an appropriate answer.
