Friends Like These

by Carina Taylor

  “Let’s go find an empty closet where we can stash this thing until we figure out what to do with it.”

  “All we have are supply closets. It’d probably eat everything in them.”

  “What about a bathroom stall? The downstairs women’s bathroom has the floor to ceiling doors,” I suggested.

  “Perfect. Let’s go. And then how about you go clear things up with Page before she sends a tiger next?”

  Kent was right. This wasn’t wholly Page’s fault. I must not have made it very clear last night when I told her she shouldn’t feel any guilt about the whole ordeal. She was trying to help, and while I appreciated the sentiment, it was still horrible. The last thing I needed right now was a bunch of animals running around the golf course.

  We carried the tyrannical goat downstairs and into the women’s bathroom. We closed the toilet lid and then slapped a “closed for maintenance” sign on the stall door.

  “There, that should take care of that for a little while. I’ll call my sister; she lives in the country. Maybe the kids want a pet goat.”

  Kent nodded. “Please do. While you’re at it, get rid of Page.”

  I chuckled, “I thought you said she was hilarious and refreshing.”

  He shook his head. “No, I think my exact words were she’s annoying and interfering.”

  “You’re just mad because the chicken crapped on your Armani watch when you carried it outside.”

  He glared at me. “You better believe I’m mad about that. She owes me a new watch.”

  “You’re the one who stuck the one-legged chicken in your office.”

  “Excuse me?” A woman interrupted us as we stood in the center of the women’s restroom arguing. She leaned around the doorway, looking at us expectantly.

  I straightened my jacket. “No, excuse us; we were just looking into a—um—maintenance issue.”

  Kent nodded politely to the woman, and we hurried out of the bathroom.

  “All right, I need to go talk to my new servers that are supposed to be here at eleven. You go find some food and water for that thing. Hopefully, Dani will want the goat. She took the chicken—what’s one more animal?”

  “Why do I have to feed it?”

  “Because you’re overpaid and need to earn your keep.” I grinned as Kent glared at me.

  “Fine. I’ll feed the devil goat as long as you take care of the Page situation tonight. No more animals. None. No snakes, no chickens, no goats. I don’t want another deadly or pooping thing on this golf course.”

  He’d make a wonderful manager. I mock saluted him and turned on my heel. Honestly, I hoped I could leave the golf course in Kent’s hands soon. He took pride in it and was invested in the business.

  When I first started at the golf course, I’d been wary of my grandfather’s most recent hire: Kent. Turned out that it was one of the best things my grandfather had done for the course. Kent had a mind for business, was surprisingly good at people, and adored golf. All of those reasons were why we’d worked out the details of him buying into the business and becoming part owner. But we had too much to do for me to hand it over to him just yet.

  Hopefully, the new chef and revamped menu would give us the jumpstart we needed. Tonight, I’d talked with Page and convince her that the animals weren’t necessary. All without hurting her feelings, then I would try to persuade her to go on a date with me. I didn’t have time to date, but I would make time for Page. Something told me I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t try.

  I headed upstairs, smelling distinctly like a billy goat. One thought on my mind—to explain to Page that I wasn’t mad at her—well maybe for the goat incident—and that she could stop sending strange animals. The golf course didn’t need a circus; it needed a facelift and a new menu.

  At six o’clock, I stepped into the front lobby of The Garden. Interviewing the potential staff had gone well, and I hired three of them on for a two-week trial basis. Over the lunch hour, I ran home and showered so I wouldn’t smell like a goat anymore. Then I headed back to my office and set up an appointment with the chef my friend had recommended.

  When I stepped inside the lobby, the number of voices overwhelmed me. It was a madhouse in there. I’d never seen so many people waiting to play golf.

  At least two hundred people filled the lobby. Unfortunately, our lobby’s fire code only allowed one hundred twenty. I didn’t even know if we were equipped to handle that many people at the same time. I knew for a fact we didn’t have that much rental equipment if they all planned on golfing.

  It would be absolute mayhem. I pushed my way through the crowd so that I could help at the front desk.

  I had to squeeze between a group of friends, greet several women who introduced themselves, and finally arrived at the front desk in a rumpled state.

  “Look, there he is.” It was an echo of the same words rippling across the crowd.

  A woman stepped in front of me just before I could walk around the desk. “My name is Tammy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet you.”

  She extended her hand and her chest about the same distance. I took a step backward and reached out to shake her hand. “Welcome to The Garden. I hope you enjoy your time here.”

  I slipped around her and hurried to the desk. Mandy and Alisha were rapidly taking people’s names and registering them. “What is going on?”

  “It’s been like this for the last half-hour,” Alisha told me. “They’ve been asking when you would come down. I told them that sometimes you visit with guests, but sometimes you’re busy with other things. They’ve been insane.”

  “Is there a problem they want to talk to me about?”

  “Mr. Dunaway. I don’t think they’re here to play golf,” Mandy popped up.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look out there.” She pointed at the sea of people. That was when I noticed something unusual.

  It was all women.

  Women everywhere. Young, old, middle-aged. They were all here.

  Now, I have nothing against women. I love them. But this crowd was not dressed for a game of golf. Stiletto heels and short dresses. Cream-colored sandals and floor-length dresses. “What. Are. They. Doing?”

  Four of the women crowded closer to the front desk, and it forced the three of us to break apart from our little huddle.

  I put on my best customer service smile even though I was confused as heck. “Hello, how can I help you today?”

  They smiled simultaneously; it reminded me of synchronized swimming.

  “We’re so excited about singles night. It’s such a wonderful idea. And when we saw your picture, we just knew we had to sign up,” one young brunette gushed. She looked close to Page’s age, but there was something crazy in her eyes that made me want to run away.

  I took a step back, afraid that the top of her shirt might give out, and something might escape. “I’m afraid I’m a little confused.”

  She slid a piece of paper across the desk. “It was all over social media the last few days.”

  I waited until she moved her hand before I picked it up to read.

  Singles Mingle at The Garden.

  Meet an eligible bachelor, enjoy a romantic evening on a magical golf course, and experience the romance and warm southern nights in a way you never have before.

  Underneath, it had my picture, the golf course hours, and the address.

  Admittedly, it was a great photo. It was the one I use on my social media and website photo. It was professionally done and the closest I would ever get to looking like a male model. Except these women didn’t seem to notice the difference between me and the photo. Maybe they couldn’t smell the desperation rolling off of me. The fact that these women could become members of the course or spend money at the restaurant made me want to keep them somehow.

  “Ladies!” I called. “Ladies, if I could have your attention for a moment. There seems to be a misunderstanding. I was not aware of any singles night tonight.
Apparently, I need to fire my social media manager.”

  I forced a chuckle; only a few of them laughed with me. “While this isn’t singles mingle night, we are testing out a brand-new menu in the club restaurant, and we would love to have you join us and hear your feedback on the menu. We are running our happy hour specials right now. Thank you for your time and for coming out at such late notice.”

  There was an audible sigh that swept across the room.

  I slipped around the edge of the desk. “If you all would follow me, I’ll lead you to the restaurant.”

  The brunette came to stand much too close to me. “What a funny misunderstanding!”

  Her laugh echoed loudly over the steady hum of the other voices.

  It was the first time I’d escorted a hundred women to dinner. The restaurant was relatively empty—not uncommon these days. Layton hurried and opened the banquet room as well and seated a third of the women there.

  “So, how did you become the single bachelor for tonight?”

  I jumped at the close voice. I glanced down at the same brunette who was now standing plastered to my arm.

  “You must not have heard, but there was a misunderstanding.”

  “What a shame,” she said as she made a pouty face.

  “Yes, isn’t it?” I took a step back, and she followed.

  “My name is Gabbie.”

  Clearing my throat, I looked around for Kent. He was standing in the center of the room, laughing with a group of women. He was never nearby when I needed him. “I hope you have a wonderful evening, Gabbie.”

  Her hand latched onto my forearm, and I got a chill. It wasn’t even remotely close to the electric current I experienced with Page.

  “Don’t be a stranger,” she ended her words in a whisper as she leaned closer.

  I snatched my arm away.

  “I need to go mingle now,” I said with a grimace as she leaned closer still.

  Mingle? More like get away from her...

  The rest of the night, I mingled. I became the model mingler. They came out expecting to meet other single people, and since most of the women stayed and became paying customers, it was the least I could do. I was surprised to enjoy myself and had several interesting conversations, including getting to explain the benefits of taking up golf as a hobby.

  I was given approximately fifty cellphone numbers, “In case I changed my mind.”

  Unfortunately, I still didn’t have the one number that I wanted — Page’s. But I knew where she worked, and I intended to pay her another visit soon. She was creating too much notoriety around the golf course and it had to stop. I could practically see her fingerprints all over this single’s mingle night.

  If I made it out of the night alive, I’d put a stop to it.

  “Wow, I didn’t know this was a women’s only event.”

  I turned around to find Hagen Raglund standing at the entrance of the restaurant. His messy hair and ripped jeans made him look like he just stepped in from boys’ night out. No man had ever looked so good to me. I nearly cried with relief.

  “Noah Dunaway, what are you doing here?”

  “Hagen, I can honestly say I’m thrilled to see you.”

  “That’s something new.” He grinned.

  Hagen and I grew up alongside each other—not necessarily together. Our parents always forced us to the same social events growing up. I’d spent a lot of my growing up years with Hagen’s older brother, Branton, who was my age. Hagen always managed to make a nuisance of himself. We didn’t hate each other, but usually we didn’t love to see each other, and I didn’t feel chummy in the slightest.

  Tonight, I’d make an exception.

  “What excellent timing. If I remember right, you broke up with your girlfriend—and are now single and available.” I stepped closer to him as I gestured to the crowd in front of us. “Want to mix and mingle?”

  He stepped back and held up a hand to wave me off. “I’m engaged. But my friend Dave here is single and ready to mingle.”

  He nodded to the middle-aged, balding man with him who had yet to pull his attention away from the room full of women.

  “Noah, this is my neighbor Dave.”

  “Hi,” Dave said quietly, still not looking my way. It was pointless to try and get his attention.

  “You’re engaged to Brooke?” I’d never liked Hagen’s ex-girlfriend. She was a little too mercenary for me. I liked the idea of having some type of emotion in my relationships. It had always surprised me that Hagen had stayed with her for longer than a week.

  Hagen shook his head. “Nope. I found a nice girl who likes to keep me on my toes.”

  “That’s good to hear,” I told him and sincerely meant it.

  Hagen cleared his throat. “So, I’m happily engaged, and you’re here mingling at a singles dinner.”

  “It’s even worse than that. I’m running this golf course. These women thought we were hosting a singles dinner.”

  Hagen chuckled. “I’d say I felt sorry for you, but this is too funny. We just came in from playing. A caddy told us your main attraction is dead.”

  I looked at him sharply. “Not you too. Snake follower?”

  He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Dave, who was now chatting with a woman somewhere in his same age vicinity.

  “I promised Dave I’d go golfing with him. He told me about The Garden and how it had a record-breaking snake.”

  “It’s still hard to believe people came here to see it. How ridiculous can they be?”

  Hagen shrugged. “I hear you. But tell me, what’re you doing with a golf course?”

  “Grandpa left this to me—a parting shot. Wants to watch me fail.”

  “Aha. That sounds like the old Dunaway we all know and dislike. What are you going to do about it?”

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and glanced at the time. “Well, it seems as though I’ve inherited a fairy godmother.”

  “How so?”

  “The woman who killed the snake. She’s trying to help me with the golf course. Trying to help me market it.” I gestured towards the room. “This is her doing.”

  Hagen’s eyes sharpened on me. “What did you say her name was?”

  “I didn’t. But it’s Page Boone.”

  “Page Boone? You sure?” Hagen asked as he stood up straight again.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Hagen laughed incredulously.

  “She’s...fun. She’s made running a golf course a lot more interesting than I thought it would be.”

  Hagen smiled, and he looked positively maniacal. “So, you’re dating this girl?”

  “No, not yet.”

  He laughed. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

  I flexed my shoulders. “You know her?”

  “Pretty sure. There can’t be too many Page Boone’s in the area. I’m marrying her cousin. I hadn’t realized she was the snake killer—I’m not surprised, though. Kylie was whispering about something with her the other night.”

  Maybe I should attempt to be Hagen’s friend for once. I could go golf a few rounds with him and learn a few things about Page...but then I noticed his evil smirk and decided against it. “How many cousins does she have? I’ve already met one.”

  “About fifty. I’m still not sure.” Hagen shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

  I didn’t think I had that many people in my entire family tree. “How well do you know Page?”

  “She threatened me with a baseball bat when I picked up Kylie for our first date, so I guess you could say we’re friends.”

  “Probably a good thing you didn’t make her use that bat. She’s got a fantastic swing. You should see her with a golf club.”

  Hagen leaned against the doorframe and glanced around the crowd. He frowned when his eyes landed on Gabbie. Her eyes locked on us, and she wiggled her fingers in a little wave.

  “Page set this up tonight?”

  “I’m nearly positive,” I answered. “She feels bad that
she killed our mascot. She’s sent me a one-legged chicken and a goat.”

  Hagen laughed loudly enough to turn heads our way—at least the few that weren’t already staring. “She must really like you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “She’d ignore you if she wasn’t interested.”

  I smiled. I needed to thank her for the violent goat, then strangle her for the singles mingle night, “I guess I’ll have to go visit her at work tonight.”

  “Page is hanging out with her brother tonight. Kylie was over there having dinner with them while I was golfing.”

  “Think I could get her number from you?”

  “Nah. That’s too personal,” he answered, shaking his head with a frown. “But I’ll text you the address.”

  “As if that’s better,” I muttered. I could have asked Kent for that, but I didn’t really want to tell him where I was going. He’d seemed upset at the mention of Page’s name ever since the goat incident earlier that morning.

  Hagen shrugged. “I’m going to get Dave out of here before he plans a weekend trip to Vegas. Tell Page I said hi.”

  Hagen’s evil chuckle floated my way as he walked out with Dave.

  Hagen knew my Page. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. We’d competed for so much over the years. I didn’t think I liked the idea that he knew the girl I was interested in. Then again, he was already engaged to her cousin. Maybe that would keep him out of the way.

  But right then, all I wanted to do was go see Page and not worry about Hagen. No more single ladies’ nights and no more goats.

  I smiled as I walked to my office to grab my car keys. My phone lit up with a text from Hagen telling me the address.

  Time to go get the girl.

  CHAPTER NINE

  PAGE

  The doorbell rang as I washed the last of the dinner dishes. Mom and Dad were out on their date night, so I was hanging out with my little brother Cameron at their house.

  The clock on the wall said eight. Eight at night seemed too late for a package to be delivered. We weren’t expecting anyone else to stop by. Kylie was the only one we’d planned on, and she had already left. People did not stop by my mother’s house, unannounced. It simply wasn’t done.