He grins an easy smile and shakes my hand. “I’m a fan of yours, as well. Actually, my sister is. She loves Hale’s products. She’s going to freak out when I tell her I met the infamous Remington Hale.” From the gleeful look on his face, I can tell he’s going to happily rub that in his sister’s face for the foreseeable future.
“Get me her info, and I’ll send her our entire spring line. Production should be finalized next week.”
Mindy pulls out her ever-present notebook and takes down Chandler’s sister’s name and address.
“This is Mindy Espinoza, my executive assistant,” I tell him and Cesar. Both men give her a quick appraisal and shake her hand, though Chandler’s greeting lingers long enough to have deep furrows forming in my forehead.
He’s blond, tall, and wiry, with a mustache that should be douchey, but it seems all the ladies love it. Beneath his stupid facial hair, he flashes a grin that radiates half All-American boy and halfI can get any woman I want.
“Okay,” I say gruffly, interrupting his appraisal of my… employee. “Have either of you had any luck finding anyone to replace Bouvier?”
“I haven’t,” Cesar says, looking as miserable as I feel. “Chandler has a call in to Sandra Dearling though. Sandra’s still in college, but she’s the number one player in the SEC right now.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of her,” I muse. “When do you?—”
I’m cut off when Chandler’s phone rings, and he holds up a finger to us as he answers. “Sandra, hey. Did you get my message? Oh… Well, damn…” His face falls, along with my stomach. “Alright, I guess I’ll see you in a little bit. Thanks for calling me back.”
Hanging up, he faces us with defeat on his face. “Turns out, Sandra’s already playing in this tournament. She’s on Ryan O’Neill’s team.”
“Hate that guy,” Cesar mutters. “Anyone else have any ideas? We have to forfeit if we don’t have a fourth.”
Mindy raises her hand like she’s waiting for the teacher to call on her in class. “Um, women can be on your team?” Now she has everyone’s attention.
“Of course,” I answer instantly. “Do you play?”
Her nose wrinkles. “It’s been years, but I really don’t know if I’m good enough to play in this tournament.”
“It’s fine,” Chandler says smoothly. “We basically just need a warm body.” The wink he gives her makes me want to slap that mustache right off his face.
Cesar nods eagerly. “Right. Don’t even worry about your score. We just don’t want to have to forfeit. And it’s for a good cause. The, uh…” He glances around at all of us, his voice hopeful when he asks, “The wetlands?”
“It’s for Boys & Girls Clubs of America, you nimrod,” I correct none too gently.
“Right,” he says, snapping his fingers. “Well, I was close.”
For fuck’s sake. Turning to Mindy, I lower my voice and take a step closer to her. “Would you mind playing with us? I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
She gnaws on her thumbnail. “I don’t have any clubs or anything.”
Chandler inserts himself into the conversation, roving his gaze up and down Mindy’s body. I’m about to pull a Three Stooges move and poke him in the eyeballs when he says, “There’s a female golf pro who’s about your height. Want me to see if you can borrow her clubs?”
“I guess. I really don’t want to screw this up for you guys.”
Squeezing her arm, I say, “Hey, we came all this way, and it would be a shame if we didn’t even get the chance to hit the links. It will be fine.” I attempt to infuse some confidence into my tone. I’ve pretty much given up on my hopes of winning this thing, but I still damn well want to play.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re all at the driving range. Jackie, the golf pro, was happy to loan her brand-new set of Callaways and even offered to be Mindy’s caddy tomorrow.
“Okay,” I say as Mindy steps up to the ball. “Now, you’re going to want to hold your club—” She grips it, and my eyebrows lift. “Exactly like that. And your feet need to be—” She adjusts, and Ino longer have any visible eyebrows because they’re now in my hairline. “Okay, that’s… perfect.”
Everyone holds their breath as Mindy pulls into a flawless backswing and then brings her club forward, hitting the ball squarely with a resounding thwack.
Jackie whistles through her teeth as the ball flies high and really fucking far. “Damn, woman. That had to be at least 250 yards.”
“Not gonna lie,” Cesar mutters, leaning sideways into my space. “That made my nipples hard.” I choke on my own saliva and shove him with my shoulder.
Mindy turns around, teeth biting her bottom lip, which, in turn, makesmynipples hard. “Sorry, I’m a little rusty.”
“If that’s rusty, may we all achieve that level of corrosion,” Jackie quips. “Now do it again and see if you can keep it straight like that. That’s what you’re going to need to do on the first hole.”
