I squinted at her. “Are you ... getting vicariously turned on right now?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not bi-curious. Well, okay, maybe a little. You did look really sexy in that red dress last night.”
“I said,vi-carious. Like you’re living through me.”
“Oh.” Her face reddened, and she cleared her throat as we arrived at the green. “Lot of noise out here today.”
It was dead quiet as we approached the green. A grin tugged at the corners of my lips. I put my hand on Phoebe’s shoulder. “It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”
She nodded. My head ached and my hangover was starting to kick in. It wasn’t as bad I thought it would be. We were lucky we had the 11:00 A.M. tee time for charity golf instead of the early one.
“It’s definitely going to be one of those ...”
My jaw fell open as I saw the beer-cart girl and, more specifically, who was flirting with her.
There he was, in flesh and blood on the fairway, about one hundred feet away: Dustin LeBlanc. He sat in the cart with his leg hanging out as the beer-cart girl typed something into his phone, and handed it back to him, along with a six-pack.
“... days,” I gulped, finishing my sentence as I set my clubs down.
“Why is he here?” Phoebe asked.
“I don’t know, but our celebrity partners better get here soon so we can get started and get the hell out of this area. Who did you say we’re playing with again?”
“According to the last notification I got from the app, we were supposed to be with a couple of Chicago players. Jake Napleton and Chandler Spiros,” Phoebe said.
“Well, where are they?”
The beer-cart girl was on the fairway in front of us, but she drove around and sped toward the tee, with Dustin in the front seat. He had a big smirk on his face as he arrived right in front of us.
“Hell yeah! Phoebes! And Doctor Red!”
My stomach lurched.
“Can you just call me Catarina, please?”
“Catarina. Well, alright. And I gotta say. Damn, Cat. You look stressed. Like you need a break already.” He winked at me.
Why did I feel all of the sudden like I was talking to the same asshole I’d met in the elevator last night before he got all nice and deep for our later conversation? Was our whole 3:00 A.M. rendezvous a dream? My bodywastense, so he was right.
“I’m fine,” I responded. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“We’re supposed to be with Spiros and Napleton,” Phoebe interjected.
“Last second change. They paired us together.”
I tried to hold it together, I was sure my face conveyed my frustration. The last thing I wanted right now was to spend three hours golfing with the man who had toyed with me and thenturned me downlast night.
“Hey-o!”
A voice hooted from behind us. It was Chip, another player from their team, and he was somehowdriving two golf carts, with his legs spread between them.
“Wooohooo!! Well well, Destino! Looks like we got the hook-up for today with a couple of hotties! Hey ladies!”
I faceplanted into my palm. So much for a nice, de-stressing afternoon of golf.
“Hey Kit Cat, cheer up.” I felt Dustin’s hand on my shoulder. “You look like you need a break. Let me break you off a piece of this Kit Kat Bar.” He held out a piece of chocolate.
I looked over at him as he bit his lip, and took it. Because despite the new nickname he’d just branded me with, I was hungover, and Kit Kat Bars were delicious.
