CaddyGirls (11 page)

Julian ran his gaze over the half-empty dining room of the Charleswood Golf and Country Club. Not up to Bellagio standards, but it would do for a quick lunch meeting. He’d gathered the guys together shortly after noon and herded them into the limousine. That way, he figured they could have lunch while he brought them up to date on the merger front, and still be at the course when Torrey arrived. He wanted to speak to her right away about his unexpected change in plans.

Once they were all seated, Julian didn’t waste any time getting down to business. “I know you’re wondering why I dragged you out here. It’s because I want to debrief you on my calls this morning, and I needed to be out here early so I could talk to Torrey before the round.”

“What’s up with Torrey?” Brendan quickly asked.

“It’s a bit of a story, so let’s order first.” Julian scanned the lunch menu, selecting a plain hamburger and an iced tea. This wasn’t a day to be drinking at lunch.

Once everyone had ordered, he went directly to the point. “All right, here’s what’s going on. Michael, you already heard some of this last night. You know Torrey’s goal is to make the women’s pro tour, right?” The others nodded. “During our round yesterday, she dropped a string of hints about how badly she needed to find a company to sponsor her for this year so she could get ready for the tour’s Qualifying School in the fall.”

“Jesus.” Josh whistled.

“Yeah. It put me in a tough position. I didn’t want to say no. And I couldn’t say anything positive without breaking the rules of the bet.”

“You
sure
you didn’t drop a hint or two?” Josh said, a disbelieving look crossing his face.

“You know me better than that,” Julian said dryly. “Fortunately—or unfortunately, I suppose—that problem resolved itself when Josh’s email arrived last night. With the bet over, I had no good reason to stall anymore.”

“You agreed that we’d sponsor her?” Brendan jumped in, his look incredulous.

“Hell, no. Not yet, anyway. We don’t even know how well she can play. I did check her out on the internet, though. She had a really promising NCAA career, and people thought she was a cinch to make the pro tour. But then she ran into some personal problems, and it’s taken her a while to get things right again.”

Julian reached for the iced tea, glancing at each of the other guys. As he read the expressions he knew so well, he could see Brendan and Michael looking doubtful. Josh simply appeared disinterested.

“Look,” he continued, “I figure it wouldn’t kill us to back her for the next few months. The money is peanuts, and she doesn’t have to wear our logo or anything, not unless we want her to.”

Josh didn’t hesitate. “I’m okay with that,” he said. “I like Torrey. She seems like a fighter.”

Brendan shook his head. “Wait a minute, guys. I like her too, but how much do we really know about this girl? She’s a caddy, for God’s sake. And now you tell us she’s had ‘problems.’ Even if she doesn’t wear the logo, she’s still going to be linked to the company. Besides, we agreed a long time ago to focus our sponsorships on events, not individuals. Why would we change that for one girl?”

“Bren, you’ve got a valid point,” Julian said. “But I don’t have a problem sponsoring a golfer or anyone else if it makes sense. Regardless of the policy, we should look at each case individually. What if Torrey winds up being a superstar, like Annika Sorenstam or Lorena Ochoa? Think what it would do for the company to be associated from day one with a rising young star—who just happens to look fabulous, too.”

“That’s a big ‘if,’ Julian,” Brendan retorted.

“Okay, but there’s not a lot of risk in it either. Anyway, here’s the bottom line. I told Torrey we would need to see her play before we’d even consider it. That’s why I had to get out here early today. She’s expecting to play a round with us tomorrow, but that’s become impossible, because of what I’m about to tell you. So, it’s going to have to be this afternoon.”

Brendan waved his hand as if to dismiss the subject. “Tell us about your calls.”

“Right. This morning I had two interesting conversations—one with the head of one of the pension funds Colton talked about, a guy named Don Smith. The other was with the top dog at the Center Street hedge fund group, Taylor Monk. Neither wanted to talk on the phone, but after I pressed them, both agreed to meet if I came to New York.”

Their food orders arrived, so Julian paused until the server had finished. While the others immediately dug in, he ignored his burger.

“Turns out Monk is leaving on a ten-day trip to Europe on Friday. Well, I’m not about to let this sit until he gets back, so I said, ‘How about tomorrow afternoon?’ He agreed, so I called Smith back and arranged lunch with him on Friday. I’m booked on a seven a.m. commercial flight tomorrow.”

“Ah, that’s why Torrey has to play this afternoon,” Michael said.

“Exactly.”

“I’m sorry you have to miss out on our last day here, Julian, but you’re doing the right thing,” Brendan added. “We need to smoke Monk and the other guy out.”

Josh grinned. “Kick their asses.”

Julian nodded and then turned the conversation back to golf. There was nothing more to be said about the merger. It was up to him now to find a way to maneuver his way past their old adversary. Picking at his food, he kept an eye on his watch. He’d head over to the practice green early—hopefully Torrey would be there in good time.

Well before the two o’clock tee off time, Torrey arrived at the west end course. She showered and changed into a fresh golf outfit—a lemon yellow golf shirt with her usual white skirt—then grabbed a sandwich in the clubhouse. She knew that after last night’s exertions with Julian and her two-hour, full-out practice this morning, she should be hard-pressed to walk back to the locker room, much less around an eighteen-hole golf course. Instead she felt as if she could caddy all afternoon and party all night. Maybe all that amazing sex had done something to her hormones. Whatever it was, she was ready for more.

She greeted Krista and Julieta, who were both in the process of squeezing into tight, skimpy golf skirts. “Hi, guys. Have you seen Annie yet?”

Krista rolled her eyes. “Yeah, she went back to her car to pick up something she said she’d bought this morning for Brendan. God, you should have heard her. She talks about the guy like he’s Prince Charming or something.”

“Well, maybe he is,” Torrey said. “For her, anyway. He’s cute and smart and considerate. But I hope she doesn’t let herself get too involved. We all know these guys are out of here Friday morning. What are the chances we’ll see any of them again?”

“Not great—at least for me,” Krista said, shaking her head. “Josh got what he wanted last night, but the way he took off right after he came made me wonder if I’ll even see him again tonight.”

Julieta gave her a smile of commiseration. “I’m sorry, Krista. I’m seeing Michael tonight—he’s taking me to see Bette Midler. He’s adorable and so funny. We’ve been having a fantastic time.”

“But he’s gay, Julieta!” Krista’s whine made her sound like she thought Julieta should be devastated by that obvious fact.

“So? He’s the most interesting guy I’ve met in ages. Who cares if he’s gay?”

Krista looked befuddled but turned to Torrey. “How about you? Anything happening between you and the big boss man?” she asked, bending to lace up her shoes. “He sure looks like he’s got the hots for you.”

Torrey had no intention of sharing any secrets with Krista. “Well, we talked about my golf situation yesterday, and he’s asked me to play a round with the guys tomorrow so I can show them what I can do. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

Krista jerked upright, shock registering on her face. “You mean he might be that sponsor you’ve been looking for?”

“If I can convince all of them that I deserve it. And I intend to do just that.”

The tall blonde smirked. “I suspect you’ve already made a convincing case to Julian.”

Krista had a reputation as an airhead, but she usually wasn’t into bitchy remarks like that—remarks that mirrored the little demon thoughts Torrey had been fighting all morning. She felt like telling Krista off, but instead managed a wry smile. The girl was probably just hurt by the way Josh had treated her. “Listen. Do you actually think Julian Grant is the kind of man who would make a business decision based on whether or not we had sex? Really, get a grip.”

“Whatever.” Krista pouted.

Torrey turned on her heel and strode from the room. She wouldn’t let Krista’s silly remark throw her off her game. This was one of the happiest days of her life, and nobody was going to ruin it. Soon, thank God and thank Julian, she’d be able to kiss CaddyGirls.com goodbye.

Torrey still fumed over Krista’s remark as she strode past the clubhouse toward the practice green. As she rounded the corner of the clubhouse, she broke her stride, surprised to see Julian standing beside the green only a short distance away. His handsome profile was turned her way as he gazed toward the first tee. For a moment she stood still, mesmerized. It didn’t seem possible that this powerful, sophisticated man had chosen to spend a long night of very enthusiastic passion with her. Her heart gave a painful thump as another frisson of doubt shot through her. Would he follow through with his promise? And would he still want her in his bed?

Julian turned and spotted her. As a smile lightened his absent look, she quickened her pace. When she neared him, he took a couple of steps forward and drew her into his arms. She hoped he’d kiss her on the lips. Instead, she felt the whiff of an air kiss past her cheek.

Ever discreet, my Julian
. She paused.
Did I just say “my Julian”?

She gave him her best smile. “You’re here early today. Where are the other guys?”

“They’re finishing up lunch in the clubhouse. Torrey, I wanted to get here early so we could talk before the round.”

Alarm bells rang in her head. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s going to be fine. But we do have a small problem we need to talk about.”

“What problem?”

“I have to leave Vegas first thing tomorrow morning. I’m sorry, but I have to fly to New York for urgent meetings, so you won’t be able to play for us tomorrow.”

Her brain struggled to take in the implications as her heart caught in her throat. She felt her dream already twisting out of her grasp, but she struggled not to show it. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she managed in a tight voice.

“It’s okay. We can do it this afternoon instead if you’re ready. I’ve checked with the pro shop, and we can push out tee time back an hour to give you time to go home and get your clubs.”

Snapping out of her shock, she remembered that her clubs were in fact less than a hundred yards away, locked in the trunk of her car. Unable to help herself, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

“Thank you, Julian. But you don’t have to postpone the tee time because I’ve got my clubs with me. I was out practicing this morning then came straight here.”

Looking startled by her impulsive kiss, he checked his watch. “Great. You’d better get your sticks now.”

“Who won’t be playing, then?”

“I’m obviously the logical choice. I’ll caddy for you.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “That’s crazy, Julian. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I want to. It’ll be fun. Now you better get going.”

Torrey jogged back past the locker room toward the Charleswood’s massive parking lot, her mind racing much faster than her feet.

“Damn, I thought you said this course was one of the best?” Josh groused as their foursome waited for the group ahead to get out of the way. The marshal had told them there would be a delay of ten minutes or so as earlier foursomes had dawdled on the course, backing everyone up.

“It’s got that reputation,” Julian said. “But these things happen.”

“Yeah, well, lunch stunk too. This place is B-list at best.”

Still breathing hard from the rush to retrieve her clubs, Torrey jumped in. “The Charleswood is still one of the best layouts in the state, Josh. But new ownership took it over last fall, and I’ve heard there have been a lot of complaints about various things ever since. Still, it’s the kind of course that will challenge you, so it’ll be a good test. You really have to keep it in the fairway here, or the high-cut rough will murder you.”

She smiled as she tried her best to sound confident. It was a good thing they couldn’t hear her insides churning like storm-tossed surf. However much she played amateur sports psychologist, trying to convince herself that this was just another day on the golf course, her nervous system knew better. There had never been a day like this before, a day when her future hinged on seventy-odd strokes of a little white ball.

Did she have everything to lose or nothing to lose? Her mind whirled as logic disappeared, shoved out by the back-and-forth battle between fear and hope. The last thing she needed was this delay—fifteen more minutes of nail-biting agony until she could hit the first crucial drive. She stood apart from the others, fighting to keep her focus, fighting to stay positive. She had the skills, she told herself. All she had to do was relax and play.

As the group in front of them teed off, Julian edged over to stand close to her. “Nervous?”

“No way,” she lied.

“Your body language says something different.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to get the first drive out of the way, then I’ll relax. I promise.”

“Good.” He put his hand on her lower back. His touch felt warm and wonderful, immediately calming her. “Anyway, just remember, whatever happens I’ll be in your corner.”

Her stomach tightened again. “I know you will, But does that mean I’ve got a problem with the other guys?”

“That’s not what I said.” He turned her to face him. “Look, I just said that to let you know how much I want you to succeed. As for the other guys, well, I know more about you than they do. I’ve seen your character. So when we sit down to make the decision, I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

She understood. Sure, Julian was the president, but that didn’t mean he could run roughshod over his partners when it came to a decision like this. Especially not when the decision involved the woman he’d just taken to his bed. She had to respect him for that, even though it probably lessened her chances for a sponsorship.