CaddyGirls (7 page)

Brendan, normally the lightest drinker of the foursome, had clearly spent too much time with his wine glass the night before. Josh tried to put up a good front but didn’t fool anybody, especially when all he could manage was to sip black coffee. Michael, who rarely showed any wear and tear from a late night out, whined about missing out on his beauty sleep.

The first topic of conversation should have been the Apollo merger, or at least what they’d learned at the first day of the computer show. But it was neither of those. Nor was it yesterday’s golf. As soon as the four had taken their seats in the Café Bellagio, Josh had launched right in to an inquiry of exactly who did what with whom the night before.

Josh had confessed he’d struck out with Krista but gave assurances that he’d end the bet tonight. Brendan had talked about how great it was to meet somebody like Annie who could actually carry on an intelligent conversation. When it was Michael’s turn, Josh had given Julian a
here we go
look. But Michael surprised them by holding a hand to his forehead and grumbling “pass”.

Breakfast had gone downhill from there. To Brendan’s obvious chagrin, Josh had whisked Annie to the dance floor last night and worked her over, lying shamelessly about Brendan’s habit of never calling a woman once he’d slept with her. According to Josh, he’d cast enough doubt on Brendan’s moral rectitude that Annie’s interest had noticeably cooled. No wonder Brendan had looked ready to murder Josh, directing blood-shot glares at him over the rim of his coffee cup.

Julian had to laugh at the thought that he still had a shot to win the bet. Not that he’d done himself any favors when he’d impulsively kissed Torrey last night. He’d planned on being the perfect gentleman and had succeeded all day, despite a few lustful body scans on his part. But all his good intentions had been washed away with the sheeting rain. When she flung herself into his arms, every male protective instinct he possessed had taken over. He wanted to shelter her from the rain, protect her from the storm and soothe all her fears.

And more than anything, he wanted to take her to his suite, join her in a steaming hot shower and make love to her until dawn. The bet couldn’t have been further from his mind.

Colton Kerr opened the door seconds after Julian knocked. Despite being only in his mid-thirties, Kerr’s face had started to reflect his reputation for hard living. Julian thought he looked ten years older than his age.

With his groundbreaking “Force of Nature” game, Kerr had made Apollo into virtually an overnight success that had dominated the video gaming industry for a few years. Unfortunately he’d done it through effectively stealing “Force of Nature” from OTE. Josh and Colton had been co-designers, but Colton had no problem cutting OTE out. The lawsuits had taken five years to work their way through the courts. Before a final judgment was handed down, Apollo agreed to give Julian’s company royalties on the still-popular game, now in its fifth version. The settlement hadn’t ended the bad blood; if anything, it had heightened the mistrust that bordered on hatred. But now Apollo had fallen on harder times and was steadily losing market share to OTE and MegaGames, the industry leader. Apollo needed the merger, but Julian still wondered if Kerr could hold his nose long enough to sign the deal.

Colton eyed him with barely concealed distaste. “You’re looking too damn good, Julian,” he grumbled. “With that tan, you must be finding time to get in lots of golf.”

Thanks for the cheap shot, asshole. You know I work even harder than you do
.

“I try to get out once in a while.”

“Drink?” Kerr nodded toward the wet bar.

Julian shook his head.

“How about coffee?”

“Sure.”

“Help yourself. Everything’s over there.”

Kerr poured himself a Jack Daniels on the rocks and eased himself into a deep armchair. After fixing his coffee, Julian took the matching armchair on the opposite side of the coffee table. They made small talk for a few minutes, comparing notes on the new products at the show.

Then Kerr got down to business. “My guys tell me the detail work’s going well.”

“That’s what our folks are saying, too.” Julian had dispatched a team to Apollo’s headquarters in San Diego to begin detailed discussions of the possible merger.

“We agree that there are advantages to Apollo and OTE hooking up.”

Julian caught a familiar tone in Kerr’s words. “Colton, why do I sense an unspoken ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?”

Kerr gripped his glass so tightly that Julian thought it could shatter any moment. “You know I’d rather eat glass than have anything to do with you three, Julian. Time may heal some wounds, but not all of them. When you sued Apollo, you wanted to ruin me, and I can’t forgive you for that.”

Julian gave him a cold smile. “Just like I can’t forgive you for running out on us and stealing our product.”

Kerr waved his hand dismissively. “Jesus, isn’t it time to bury that dead horse? Anyway, what I was going to say was that despite our history, I’m man enough to admit that a merger makes sense now.”

“Fine. But I’m still waiting for the ‘but.’”

“Okay, let’s get to the point,” Kerr said, setting his mouth in a tight line. “I’ve run into a snag with some of our biggest shareholders. Even if our board recommends the deal, these guys won’t vote their shares in favor.”

Julian repressed the urge to punch the bastard. Any Apollo shareholder who voted against a merger with OTE needed to be institutionalized. Colton clearly wanted to extract better terms.

“Which shareholders would those be?”

“A couple of the pension funds. And Center Street. Especially Center Street.”

Center Street—the New York-based hedge fund whose founder was Kerr’s buddy.

Julian didn’t try to camouflage his skepticism. “And you’ve just learned this news now, after we’ve been talking for weeks?”

“It doesn’t matter when I learned about it,” Kerr growled. “All you need to know is that it’s real, and we have to deal with it or this dog’s not going to hunt.”

Julian cursed silently. He didn’t believe Colton’s bullshit, but the man had to have something in his back pocket to make these brazen threats. “All right, what’s their problem?”

“I think you know that some of these guys have worked with me for a lot of years. They’re not happy at the thought of somebody else running the new company’s day-to-day operations.”

“Go on,” Julian said, certain now of what was coming.

“They’ll support the merger if I’m appointed CEO of the merged company.”

Kerr’s eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction, fully knowing he had just tossed a live, possibly deal-breaking grenade into the discussion.

Julian stared at him, keeping his face impassive while the bastard who had once been his friend drained the rest of his bourbon.

“And that would leave me where?” Julian asked after a long pause.

“Chairman of the Board,” Kerr filled in the blank. “Look, I know that’s the opposite of what we talked about the last time we met, but we’ve got to take these big guys into account if this merger’s going to happen. You and the three amigos will still control enough of the company through your retained shares.”

Julian rose to his feet. “So, let me get this straight. OTE has twice the market cap of Apollo. Our rate of growth is more than double Apollo’s. The best designers want to work for OTE, not Apollo. My partners and I have built OTE from a garage company to number two in the world, while Apollo’s been faltering for years. And somebody other than me—namely you—is going to be President and CEO. Have I got that right?”

“Listen, Julian, I know it’s not what you want to hear, but we’ve both got to park our egos and do what’s best for our shareholders and employees. If this merger goes south, everybody loses.”

Julian turned and walked to the door, then pivoted to face Kerr. “Colton, I know you might just have the horses to cause some damage. You might even be able to sink this merger. But if you think anybody but me is going to be CEO of OverTheEdge or the new company, you and your shareholders need to adjust your meds. We’ll negotiate a lot of things. That’s not one of them. Have a good day.”

He slammed the door behind him and stalked down the hallway. Kerr had crossed him again. Julian had hoped diplomacy would eventually consummate the merger, but after this morning it was time to prepare for war.

Dr. Arthurs was right. Torrey had to find a way to get to Julian, to talk him into sponsoring her. And it had to be today. All she could think of was to start talking about her plans for Q-School, then hope he’d pick up the ball and keep the conversation going. Unless he showed interest right away, she’d be dead in the water.

After her session, she’d driven back home to Henderson to change into her golf clothes and wolf down a quick lunch. Choosing an outfit for the afternoon had been a no-brainer. It had to be something that gave her the look of a professional golfer, not of a caddy girl. No skimpy skirt or skin-tight top today.

She ironed a pair of white cotton shorts that reached down to a couple of inches from her knees and then pulled a deep red Nike golf shirt from her closet. With her white visor and all-white FootJoys, Torrey knew this outfit could pass for a tour pro’s. The visor always made a mess of her hair, but today she didn’t care. She needed Julian to focus on her words, not her looks.

By the time she drove to the west-end course the guys had chosen, it was nearing two o’clock. She’d deliberately delayed her arrival. The last thing she needed was to have to talk to the other girls about last night’s adventures. Striding quickly into the locker room, she greeted Julieta, Krista and Annie, dumped her bag in an empty locker, and headed straight over to the practice green to wait for the men.

When the others caught up to her, Krista looked at Torrey, a curious smile curling her lips. “Somebody’s looking all serious today.”

Torrey had no intention of explaining herself or bantering with the others. She had to maintain her focus. “It is what it is,” she said with a shrug.

The other three women exchanged quick glances, but no one spoke. Torrey pulled the course book out of her back pocket and began reviewing the layout and the yardages. She had only caddied once at this club, and her lack of familiarity with the course meant she wouldn’t be as valuable to Julian as she’d been yesterday.

Again today, the four men cut their arrival close to their scheduled tee time. Torrey had figured they might show up in time for a few practice putts, but they had to hustle right to the first tee. Brendan, Josh and Michael all gave the caddies enthusiastic greetings, but Julian managed only a curt, “Good afternoon, ladies.” As Torrey caught his intense, preoccupied look, her heart dived like a duck hook.

Julian carried his bag all the way to the tee area, only then passing it into her control. Without a word, he pulled the driver from the bag and removed the head cover. The foursome ahead of them was now well down the fairway and out of range, so Julian teed up his ball and hit away. His drive immediately began slicing right, arcing across the rough and hitting the cart path that ran up the right side of the hole. After a huge bounce off the asphalt path, the ball hopped another thirty feet and came to rest several feet beyond the tree line.

Julian stared after the errant ball in disgust. Torrey tensed, waiting for the string of curses most golfers let loose after a wayward shot ended up in the trees. But Julian just shook his head and took a practice swing, as controlled as a seasoned pro.

When Julian moved off the tee and handed her the driver, Torrey figured silence was her best option. Like any good caddy, she had the sense to shut up after her player messed up a shot. If Julian wanted to talk about it, he’d ask for her opinion. Unfortunately he didn’t, so the awkward silence dragged on.

After the others teed off and they started down the fairway to find their balls, Julian finally broke the ice.

“Don’t mind me, Torrey. I’m a little preoccupied today.”

“No problem,” Torrey answered. “When I’m playing, I like to focus totally on my game.”

He nodded. “I wish I could focus on the game today, but it’s not going to be easy.”

It was all she could do not to ask what was troubling him, but it seemed best to let him decide if and when to tell her what was on his mind.

As they reached the tree line, she dropped the bag to the ground and entered at the spot where she estimated the ball had rolled in. While Julian poked around a few feet ahead, Torrey soon found his ball in a clear area, fifteen feet in from the fairway. “Here it is. You’ve got a clear pitch back out, so you won’t have to take a penalty.”

Julian’s hard mouth lifted into a small smile as he checked out the lie. Torrey went back to the bag and retrieved his seven-iron. He took it and made a nice chip back out into the fairway.

“Good shot,” she enthused. “That sure could have ended up worse.”

Picking up his bag, she started to move back to the fairway, but Julian put a hand on her shoulder. She jerked around, startled by his unexpected touch.

“Torrey, hold up a minute. I need to apologize, and this seems as good a time as any.”

His declaration, coming out of nowhere, froze her in place. But she saw only determination in his eyes, not anger. Julian took her arm and began to walk slowly through the trees.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for coming on so strong last night. I surprised myself. I never act like that.” His focused his intense gaze right on her. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

As they emerged onto the fairway, Torrey almost staggered with relief. She didn’t blame him for his impulsive kiss. In any other circumstance she’d have welcomed it even more than she had last night. Even better, he wasn’t angry with her for rejecting him.

She gave him an easy grin. “No apology is necessary, but I appreciate it anyway. Not many men are big enough to apologize.” She took out her yardage book and calculated the distance to the hole. “The five should do it from here.”

Julian laughed. “All business, huh? Good, I like that about you.”

“I take golf
very
seriously, Julian. It’s how I want to make my livelihood. And the only way I’ll ever get there is to put golf ahead of everything else.” She backed away a few steps as Julian stepped up to his ball. After he swung, she retrieved the divot, put the iron back in the bag, and handed him his putter.

Julian strode toward the green. Torrey matched him step for step.

“You’re smart to put your goal ahead of everything else,” he replied in a thoughtful voice. “That’s exactly what I had to do. In fact, it’s what all four of us did, and we were able to build a great company in just a few years. Most guys our age got married, had a bunch of kids, and spent as much time running to soccer games and orthodontist’s appointments as they did at work. But that wasn’t us.” He threw her a hooded, sideways glance. “We made a pact that we’d be millionaires before we turned thirty or die trying. And we made it, about a thousand times over.”

As they stopped at the edge of the green, waiting for Josh to take his shot from the sand trap, Torrey mulled over his words.

“I agree,” she said in a quiet voice that wouldn’t disturb Josh. “That’s exactly what I intend to do. But the million-dollar club is probably a little out of my reach.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ll never make it if you don’t think you can beat every other woman on the planet.”

She wondered just how single-minded he was about business. “But don’t you think about having it all someday, Julian? I do. My career’s going to be number one, but someday I’d like to fall in love and have a family. I admire Annika Sorenstam. She gave up golf to start a family, even though she was young enough to play on the tour for a lot more years. I’d like to think it’s possible to have both.”

Torrey caught a trace of a rueful smile before he turned his face away from her. “I haven’t let myself think about a family,” he answered, staring off into the pine trees circling the green. “It’s just not on my radar. That doesn’t mean I don’t have relationships, but I don’t have much to give.”

“You probably have more than you think.” Torrey knew she was probably treading on dangerous ground, but he’d opened the door. “Not every woman would demand more than you can give.”

He shook his head slowly as he watched Josh blast from the trap to within three feet of the flag. “Yeah, I’ve had women say they’re prepared to accept the small piece of me that’s left over after business. I’ve never believed it, and I don’t think a relationship like that would ever work. I sure wouldn’t settle for that if I was in their shoes.”

He gave a shrug and walked over to his marker, reaching down to pocket it and place his ball. From the intense concentration on his face, Torrey could tell he’d been able to shift his mind instantly from their increasingly personal discussion to the business of sinking his eight-foot par putt. She was surprised to find herself feeling melancholy for him. Julian might be king of the world, but she wondered if loneliness would catch up with him. She’d tried to fill the loneliness in her own heart with ambition and hard work, but she knew they would never be enough. Not even if she made it to the top.

Julian nursed his glass of Sancerre and stared absently at a pack of noisy drunks splashing around in the hotel pool. If the evening turned out as badly as the day had been, he’d need more than a glass of wine to kill the pain. Normally when he strode down a fairway or lined up a putt, he could shut out the rest of the world and enjoy a few hours’ respite. Not today though.

Still fuming after his meeting with Colton Kerr, he’d had to deliver the bad news to the other guys over lunch. Josh had instantly demanded they break off merger discussions and mount a hostile takeover bid for Apollo. Michael, though more thoughtful, had basically sided with Josh. Brendan, predictably, urged caution and a reasoned approach.

Months ago, when he and Colton had begun their discussions, Julian had made it clear the position of CEO wasn’t up for negotiation. Kerr had initially fought for it, but Julian had hammered him into place. Or at least he thought he had. But now, when the detail work was almost complete, the “fixer” had manipulated his shareholder pals to threaten to torpedo the deal unless Kerr got his way. The bastard had shafted him again, and Julian loathed the prospect of working with him, even if the merger proceeded. A hostile takeover would come at a steep price and might prove unwinnable in the end. But he knew that after Kerr’s bombshell, he’d have to consider the possibility.

By the time he and the guys had left the hotel after lunch and headed for the golf course, Julian had almost forgotten about Torrey Green. But seeing her standing with the other girls at the practice green had brought it all back fast, stirring the memory of their passionate but frustrating kiss outside the limo. It made him feel both guilty for pressuring her and irritated that she’d pushed him away. After the disheartening betrayal by Colton Kerr this morning, he’d felt his head was ready to explode. If Torrey had said a word to him about what happened, he probably would have taken her head off. And regretted it like hell later.

Instead, she’d chosen to ignore his stony looks, keep quiet and do her job. And when he managed to ratchet down his frustration and apologize to her, she’d accepted it without recriminations. For the rest of the round, she’d acted as if nothing awkward or embarrassing had ever passed between them.

He drained his glass, resisting the temptation to order another. Getting drunk wouldn’t wipe out the day’s events. It bugged him that Torrey appeared to have put their relationship—such as it was—so completely out of her mind. All afternoon she’d continually steered the conversation toward herself. Though he’d found her goals and her plans for the future interesting, as the round wore on he’d become increasingly uncomfortable with the direction of the discussion. It was clear she desperately needed someone to sponsor her for the rest of the year so she could enter the LPGA’s qualifying process. She did everything but come right out and ask him for sponsorship.

Julian looked at his watch. Six-twenty. Almost time to go back to the room and shower up before joining Brendan for dinner. Like him, Bren had been cut loose by his caddy for the evening, so they’d agreed on dinner across the street at the Eiffel Tower restaurant, followed by Cirque du Soleil’s new show. He’d just waved to the server to get his bill when Michael plopped down on the lounge chair next to him.

“You still pissed about Colton?”

Julian grimaced. “I’m over it. I’m not sure he has the horses to pull it off anyway,” he said, putting more confidence into his voice than he felt. The last thing he wanted his guys to see was any serious concern on his part. “I was thinking maybe we could even use this to our advantage. Give him the rope and let him hang himself. Then we can get rid of him completely. I’m not exactly looking forward to having him as my Chairman of the Board after this.”

“Sounds good to me,” Michael said. “So, I understand you’re on your own tonight.”

“Yeah, Torrey has to work a late shift at the Desert Oasis.”

“Ah, too bad,” he purred, feigning sympathy. “I was hoping you could give Josh a battle. I guess I’ll have to pull for Bren.”

“Who’ll be at Cirque du Soleil with me. He told me Annie had to bail tonight. One of the regular girls in
High Rollers
got sick, and she has to replace her.”

Michael gave him a long once-over. “Your heart’s not in this bet, boss. It’s obvious.”

Julian shrugged, not surprised. “You always were the intuitive one, Michael. Brendan and Josh wouldn’t notice unless I slugged them with a two-by-four.”

Michael grinned. “I think you find our Miss Green rather more enchanting than you thought you would.”

Now
that
he wouldn’t admit. He shook his head as the server set the bill down in front of him. “I’ve been too caught up with Colton’s gamesmanship to give it a lot of thought.”

“Oh, right,” his partner replied. “And I don’t adore Barbra Streisand.”

Julian laughed. Michael had traveled halfway around the world to see his beloved Barbra in concerts from New York to Australia. “All right, I give up. Yes, you’re damn right I find Torrey attractive. She’s gorgeous. And she’s professional, tough, determined, perceptive and sweet. Would you like me to find a few more adjectives?”

This time it was Michael’s turn to chuckle. “No, that should do. You do realize, of course, that you’ve never talked about any of your women that way? I wonder what that could mean?”