“Poppy?”
I jump at my name being called, turning to see my manager, Carrie, standing in the doorway to the locker room. Carrie’s face falls when she notices Rodrigo.
“I was just leaving,” Rodrigo sing-songs, tucking his phone back into his pocket and flashing me a conspiratorial wink before skulking past Carrie with a rueful smile.
“Hey, sorry.” I hurry toward Carrie. “I know I’m a few minutes late, I?—”
“You’resofine!” Carrie interjects, her smile wide. And, honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been on the receiving end of a Carrie smile, let alone a giddy one like this. But, of course, it has Brookes Devereaux’s name written all over it.
“Actually, I have your shift covered. You’re free to finish up now, girl.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Go spend time with that delicious man of yours.”
My eyebrows knit together, my smile wavering as I hesitate. “I… are you… sure?”
Carrie nods. “Yeah. Technically it’s a conflict of interest to have you working here now that you’re… dating a…member.”
“Who’s dating a member?”
I stiffen at the shrill sound of Kendall’s voice, concealing my grimace as best I can when she struts in, flicking her long black hair over her shoulder. Next to her, her best friend and fellow cart girl, Julie-Anne, smiles from me to Carrie and back again, her blue gaze doing a slow, slightly shrewd assessment of me.
“Well, Poppy, of course!” Carrie boasts, grabbing me and showing me off like I’m her favorite employee despite saying no more than a handful of words to me in the year that I’ve been working here.
“You’redating amember?” Kendall asks, her tone less than pleasant.
I nod, swallowing around the lump wedged in the back of my throat, my smile wavering.
“Who?” She casts a glance at Julie-Anne, the two sharing a knowing smirk. “Bobby Atkins?”
My teeth grit. For the record, they’re being assholes. Assuming the only member who could possibly be interested in dating me is Bobby Atkins, who is shorter than my five-feet-two-inches with a husky build, who is, in fact, a really nice guy, just obviously not up to their level ofhotness, or so it seems.
“Oh, girls,” Carrie chides half-heartedly with a laugh, playfully smacking Kendall’s arm. “No. Poppy’s dating Brookes Devereaux.”
I watch as both Kendall and Julie-Anne’s jaws fall to the floor in sync, both of them gaping at me, eyes wide, Julie-Anne even has a vein popping in her forehead. For a moment I’m worried she might be on the verge of an aneurism.
“B-Brookes…Devereaux?” Kendall says, slowly, like she might have misheard.
And, I can’t help myself. Normally I would never be so smug, so self-assured, but these girls are just so mean, through to their core. So, lifting my chin slightly higher, I offer an arrogant smile. “Yes.”
Unexpectedly, Julie-Anne suddenly bursts into tears, spinning around and running out of the locker room, her wailing sobs fading off down the corridor, and quirking a brow, I look from Kendall to Carrie and back again because what the hell just happened? “Is… she okay?”
Kendall scoffs, gawking at me likeI’mthe certifiable one. “Julie-Anne has been trying to catch Brookes’ attention ever since she started here. She even sent him nudes—” Snapping her mouth shut like she might have said too much, she places a hand on her hip, appearing to take a steadying breath.
Forcing a smile, she offers me another head-to-toe assessment, a look of doubt in her dark gaze as she practically spits, “Good for you,Poppy.” And with that, she spins and walks back out of the locker room with another flick of her silky black hair.
Carrie winks at me, mouthing the wordjealousbefore turning and, with a wave, walking out of the room.
And, when it’s just me, I sag back against the wall and remove my visor, and, looking around the empty locker room I release a heavy breath realizing that no matter what, there’s no going back now; Kendall’s probably going live on one of her social media accounts and within minutes, the whole world will know that I am the woman who snagged the one and only Brookes Devereaux.
When I get back to the apartment earlier than normal, I’m relieved to find Simon is not there. I don’t like seeing him at the best of times, but I specifically do not want him here while I’m packing my bags to take to Brookes’ house.
I’m contracted with Brookes until October. I don’t know why October, but that at least gives me a solid three months to save money and start looking for a place by the end of September. And, since I have no desire to come back here, I decide to packeverything. I don’t have a lot. Mostly clothes, a few framed photos, some books. The bulk of my belongings is my earrings and the tools I use to make them, but everything is in bins so I have it stacked neatly in the corner of the room.
My phone shudders from the nightstand, and I reach for it, surprised to see Brookes’ contact on the notification screen.
Brookes: Looks like we’re official.
He’s included a link, and I click on it, my stomach knotting into a ball when I see a social media post from a well-known celebrity gossip account that shows a photo of Brookes mid-swing with the title:Golf’s Bad Boy Bachelor Off the Market?
I take a seat on the edge of the bed, reading the story that goes into detail, down to the fact that Brookes Devereaux is rumored to be in a relationship with a cart girl, my jaw falling open when I read a quote from an alleged source close to the professional sportsman.
