“I mean long term. Career goals, relationships, stuff like that.”
He thought about it, or at least, he was quiet for a few moments before he responded. Then he had just one word to say: “Nope.”
“Nope,” I repeated. “Nothing. You’ll go from day to day without any plan for the future and without any ambitions besides some repairs to this car. Or truck, whatever you’d call it.”
“That’s about right.” We were approaching more lights and I saw that we were nearing town. “Would you say that you’re a sporty person?”
“Not particularly.” We had never stayed in the same place long enough for me to get into a sport, but I had never been overly athletic anyway.
“You said your boss plays golf. How about you?”
“No, never. Why are you asking me these questions?”
“I’m very competitive and I want to make sure that I can beat you. We’re going to play miniature golf right now,” he explained.
“Right now? It’s late,” I said. “And cold. And out-of-season.” Most touristy attractions around here were closed until the snow totally melted and visitors returned for the summer.
“You’re going to have to trust that this will be one of the best experiences of your life,” he said. “I’m not going to say ‘top,’ but it’s going to come close.”
“Mini golf with you in the dark and freezing temperatures is going to be one of the best experiences,” I echoed. Now that we were in a more populated area, there were lights and I could see him. He was nodding seriously.
“Definitely. It’s going to be the start of something,” Ronan said.
“Of what?”
“Maybe a career on the pro-miniature golf circuit. Or you could develop a new goal, like getting the course record and having your name in lights.”
“They do that?”
“We’ll see what the future holds, Cate.” When I looked over again, I saw that he was laughing, and I realized that I was, too.
Chapter 3
“It was perfect! I never had so much fun.”
I wasn’t watching the table of women behind me, not turning around to blatantly stare at them, but I was definitely listening. They had all been talking about what they’d done over the weekend, sharing details and speaking over each other in excitement. Kiya had gone out with the guy she hoped was becoming her boyfriend, although they hadn’t had any discussion about that yet so she wasn’t using any labels within his hearing. But it had been so fun. Taylor had gone skiing with a big group of friends, the last time they thought they’d be able to do it together this season. It had also been so fun. Victoria had been in Detroit on a bachelorette trip and they’d eaten at amazing restaurants and bar hopped through the city, and again—so fun.
It all did sound fun to me and they were also enjoying their meal together in the Woodsmen employee lunchroom. They laughed as they talked and teased each other, and then laughed somemore. I listened until Victoria realized that they had to get back to their departments and they all jumped up to hurry away.
I didn’t need to hurry, because Mr. Gowan was out of the office again. This time, he was in…I thought about it, but I didn’t actually remember. His trips were always in the same kinds of places, though, somewhere exciting and ritzy that I had never been and often had never heard of.
He might have even headed south to golf, but you actually didn’t have to fly off somewhere to a beautiful, green course. You could enjoy golf right here and right now. Last weekend, while Kiya, Talyor, and Victoria had been enjoying themselves, I had, too.
“This isn’t even open,” I had told Ronan as we’d turned into the parking lot for the mini golf. It hadn’t mattered, though, because his friend did security there (and it turned out, had been a Junior Woodsmen two seasons before and had a lot of stories about the facility and some of the players). We hadn’t been able to turn on most of the lights so we’d played in semi-darkness as the temperature dropped below freezing again.
It should have been miserable. It wasn’t that, not at all.
“The secret to miniature golf is closing your eyes,” Ronan had told me. “Just close your eyes and whale away, and I’ll keep track of the strokes.”
“We’re really competing?” I had asked him, but he’d already had the pencil in hand and was dead serious. This was a mini golf death match.
The theme of the course was ancient Egypt but somehow, also dragons—or maybe they were supposed to be giant asps andcobras, but my perception was distorted by the lack of light. He claimed to have been a history major in college, and he provided a steady stream of information as we golfed.
“No, Cate. Close your eyes,” he had said as I’d lined up my shot for the first hole.
“That’s a ploy so I’ll lose.” I carefully took a practice swing.
“Did you know that miniature golf was invented in ancient Mesopotamia?”
