Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“Buck, meet Josephine Doyle,” Wells drawled, his smooth tone contradicting his tense demeanor.
They shook. “Looking forward to tomorrow,” Buck said. “Ought to be . . . interesting.”
Josephine willed the champagne glass back into her hand. Weirdly, it didn’t appear. “Yes. Heard we’re getting a little rain tonight. The ball should be sticking.”
“Indeed.” Buck gave her a blithe smile. She worked on a golf course, so it was far from the first time in her life that she’d been discounted straight off the bat because of her gender, but just like always, she would let her results do the talking. “Mind if I have a word alone, Wells? Nothing major, just a little business.”
Wells glanced at Josephine, a vein ticking in his temple. “It can’t wait?”
“Already too busy for the old friend who installed you back on the tour?”
“I didn’t say that,” Wells countered firmly, still appearing conflicted.
That’s when it occurred to Josephine that he didn’t want to leave her alone. Even for a few minutes? He’d said something about the caddies eating her alive, but they couldn’t possibly be that bad. Even if they were, she was woman enough to handle it and then some.
“Go.” She tipped her head toward the lantern-lit terrace. “I want to grab some air, anyway. Nice to meet you, Mr. Lee.”
“Please, call me Buck.”
She nodded and gave Wells a quick smile. “Catch up with you later.”
Without giving Wells a chance to protest, she wove her way through a sea of recognizable faces, feeling a little bit like she was dreaming. A week ago, she’d been standing in knee-deep sludge, stuffing ruined inventory into black garbage bags, praying an alligator wasn’t lurking in the water—because Florida—and now? Wearing her best dress at a lavish party full of golf studs. Life never stopped throwing curveballs.
Josephine almost gasped out loud when she stepped onto the terrace.
The branches of a giant magnolia tree stretched overhead, flickering, jewel-tone lanterns dangling low. The conversation was more hushed outside, perhaps because it overlooked the manicured golf course and the setting predisposed people to silence. The air was balmy, breezy, and fragrant, whispering over her bare shoulders like silk. Someone approached her with a champagne flute, and she took it to be polite. Or maybe because she needed a prop with which to float through the elegant crowd, many of whom were watching her pass with curiosity. Fastening a serene expression onto her face, she continued until she reached the rail of the terrace, the green spreading out in front of her, buttered in moonlight.
Within seconds, a man approached from her left. He was roughly the same age as Josephine and sporting a necktie patterned with lizards, and he had a genuine smile, deep brown skin, and mirthful eyes. “Well, if it isn’t the hot gossip item herself,” said the young man, leaning his elbows on the railing beside her. “I’m Ricky. Nice to meet you.”
“Hey. I’m Josephine.”
“Oh, I know.” He winked at her, then went back to looking out over the golf course with obvious adoration. “Don’t worry, something scandalous will happen tomorrow and they’ll move on. A pro will smash their putter into three pieces or mix plaids. You’ll be off the hook.”
She glanced back over her shoulder, catching a woman in the act of gesturing at her with one of the hors d’oeuvres. Were people interested in her because she’d joined forces with the villain? Or was it because she was the only female caddie on tour? Maybe both. “When will I ever get another chance to be whispered about at a party that’s serving caviar on tiny pieces of toast? This is once-in-a-lifetime stuff.”
“Now that’s the right attitude.” Ricky gave her a conspiratorial look. “You know, our golfers are paired up for the next two days. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Are you bringing the communal ibuprofen, or am I?”
Ricky ducked his head on a laugh and reached over to shake her hand. “Tomorrow isn’t looking so rough after all, Josephine.”
She couldn’t agree more. Knowing there would be a friendly face in the vicinity dulled some of her spikiest nerves. “Which player are you caddying for?”
Pride squared his shoulders. “Manny Tagaloa.”
Josephine sucked in a small breath. “Oh wow, the new guy.”
“Yup. He’s already upstairs asleep for the night. The man’s got a powerhouse drive, but he’s boring as hell. Makes my job a lot of fun.” They shared a snort. “I’m only doing this caddying thing on the side until I can get my reptile business up and running.”
“And that is the dead last thing I expected to come out of your mouth.”
“Excuse me for interrupting,” a man said from behind Josephine, his voice smothered in the South. “I just had to meet the woman of the hour.”
“Oh boy,” Ricky muttered for her ears alone. “Here we go.”