CaddyGirls

by V. K. Sykes

  If there was one passion they shared, it was golf. Yet even then, nobody had proposed breaking the policy to sponsor a golfer. So what was he going to tell her? A straight no, because OTE had an ironclad policy? That would be the easy way out. But it stuck in his throat to have Torrey think he couldn’t manage to hammer through the trifling amount of money she would need initially to pursue her dream.

  Hell, he’d even thought briefly that he could just write her a personal check. He didn’t need OTE’s corporate money. But there was no way he could see himself saying, No, sorry, I can’t get the company to sponsor you but I’ll front you the cash myself. As much as she needed the money, she wouldn’t go for that. She’d probably think he was trying to buy his way into her bed.

  After more stewing, he’d finally come up with the only way he could imagine to convince Brendan, Josh and Michael. He’d ask Torrey to play a round with them. They already liked her and had come to respect her golf knowledge. If she could shoot the lights out, maybe he could talk the guys into a sponsorship. If she couldn’t, then at least he’d have given her a full and fair shot.

  When the show ended, he and Brendan returned to the hotel. It was just shy of eleven but Brendan decided to call it a night. Julian knew it was way too early to bunk out. He’d just toss and turn for hours if he tried. Better to fire up his laptop and at least clear out his email.

  The very first message on the list came from Josh, time stamped ten forty-five. The subject line read “Highland Fling.” It was addressed to Brendan, Michael and him.

  Hosers: Grit your teeth and suck it up—I’m going to Scotland! And trust me when I say that I made the lady very happy. BTW, I’ll bring you back some obscure but incredible single malt from Scotland…

  At the bottom of the message Julian noted the automatic insertion telling the recipients that Josh had sent it from his Android. The asshole had probably jumped out of bed, raced to the john and thumbed in the gloating message before Krista even knew what was happening.

  As much as Julian hated to lose at anything, he couldn’t help but snort at Josh’s immature behavior. Good thing the wanker had been a loyal friend for all these years, or he would have strangled him long ago. But Josh had always been there for him, especially during those dark months after Kerr betrayed them. Still, Julian felt a pang of sympathy for Krista, and just hoped she had the sense not to develop feelings for someone as careless as Josh. Although she’d seemed just as keen as Josh to hook up, he would make a point of checking in with her tomorrow to make sure she was okay.

  The almost palpable feeling of relief that flowed through his body now that the stupid bet was over surprised him. The bet had colored everything between the golfers and the caddies. Even though he’d had no intention of trying to win, Julian truly regretted agreeing to it in the first place. The caddies didn’t deserve to be pawns in their childish game, and he would do his best to make it up to them.

  And now that he’d come to know her, he couldn’t stand the thought that Torrey might find out about the wager. A strong, intelligent woman like her would be horrified. And explaining that he personally didn’t take it seriously wouldn’t cut any ice with her. She wouldn’t excuse such a juvenile prank. Her respect for him would vanish in a heartbeat, and he was surprised how much that thought troubled him.

  A week ago, the bet had seemed like a harmless lark—a way to have good times with some sexy girls who might welcome a week of over-the-top attention from a bunch of rich guys. Now, with the way he’d come to feel about Torrey—and with all the crap she’d probably had to put up with in her job—he knew it had been an inexcusable blunder.

  He’d talk to the guys first thing in the morning to make sure they all kept their mouths firmly shut. Michael and Brendan caused him no worries, but Josh was always a loose cannon. Hopefully he’d have enough self-discipline to realize it would do none of them any credit if the bet came to light. In fact, it would make them look like a bunch of total dicks.

  But Julian wouldn’t take any chances. Josh was about to have the fear of God hammered into him.

  He closed his laptop, knowing he couldn’t do any more work, given his distracted frame of mind. God, he wished he could see Torrey tonight. She’d ignited something powerful inside him that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. To his amazement, and despite his worries about the merger, he’d had a hard-on for just about the entire round of golf—or at least whenever Torrey came within ten feet of him. Even now, when he thought back to last night, he could still feel her soft, wet body pressed against him, her hot, delicious mouth welcoming his tongue, the tantalizing curve of her ass as he slid his palm down her back.

  He stood up and headed for the door of his suite. Why couldn’t he see her, anyway? She was busy, but she wasn’t stuck at the North Pole.

  ***

  Torrey’s feet ached. Her conditioning program, combined with miles of walking as she caddied, had left her in the best physical shape of her life. But there didn’t seem to be any cure for tired, achy feet. At least her shift would soon be over. Ten minutes to midnight and freedom.

  It had taken every ounce of her mental strength and training to keep her focus on the cards tonight. Though she’d done everything she could to prepare for popping the question to Julian tomorrow, it hadn’t stopped her from thinking through scenario after scenario. She’d already run her credentials past him—her outstanding NCAA record, and the solid results from the local and regional tournaments she’d managed to enter this past year. He’d been interested, maybe even impressed.

  But what if he said no? Even if he wanted to sponsor her, maybe there were company policies or procedures that would tie his hands. She told herself to get mentally prepared for another rejection.

  That was easier said than done. Julian and OTE were her last hope, at least for this year’s Q-School. Plus she wasn’t getting any younger, and her skills weren’t going to improve unless she played full time and had enough money for a good coach. Tomorrow’s breakfast couldn’t have had more on the line, and it scared her to death, no matter how much she told herself she was ready.

  She cleared the losers’ chips, paid out the winners, collected the cards and started to refill the shoe. Looking up, her head jerked back, and her heart nearly jumped out of her throat. Julian had somehow slipped in, escaping her notice. He stood behind the empty number two chair, looking ridiculously handsome in a cream-colored linen jacket and black silk shirt. When her eyes met his, he cocked an eyebrow and gave her that crooked grin she’d loved from the moment she first saw him.

  “Is this seat free?” His hand grasped the back of the chair directly in front of her.

  “Yes, sir,” she said with a smile.

  “Thanks.” He sat down, placing his drink in the holder. “I’m feeling lucky tonight.”

  Torrey’s breath caught in her throat, as she whipped the cards out of the shoe. “I like everyone to win.”

  She was sure the little quaver in her voice gave away the excitement rippling through her body. Though his surprise appearance probably foretold another awkward moment on the horizon, right now she didn’t give a damn. It thrilled her to know he’d come.

  Five hands later, her replacement edged up, waiting to relieve her. Torrey collected the cards and chips and turned the table over to him. As she moved away, Julian picked up his small stack of chips. By the time she made it through the pit area exit, he stood waiting.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here...” She stopped herself from finishing the sentence. It would have been, “…but I’m really glad you came.”

  “Call me impatient, but I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to see you again.” His dark eyes flashed the same intensity she’d glimpsed last night. “I know you’re probably exhausted, but could I talk you into a nightcap?”

  Torrey thought for maybe half a second. “Here?”

  “Why don’t we go back to the Bellagio? I don’t want to insult your employer, but this place is a bit of a dump.”


  “Insult away,” she said with a laugh. “I only work here because they’re willing to hire rookie dealers. I don’t spend any more time in the place than I have to.”

  They retrieved her car from the parking garage and ten minutes later drove up to the Bellagio. Julian spent most of the drive talking about the Cirque du Soleil show. Torrey listened with only half an ear, her mind absorbed by worries about where this encounter would lead. Should she spring the question tonight, or wait until breakfast as planned?

  Julian reached for her hand as they entered the hotel from the Bellagio’s massive garage. It almost felt to her as if they were on a date. As she walked toward the casino at the side of this sophisticated, insanely gorgeous man, she felt for the first time as if she actually belonged in this opulent hotel. It was a crazy thought, as the place was full of gamblers and walk-through tourists who couldn’t afford to actually stay there. It was one thing to be a walk-through, but quite another to be a guest like Julian Grant, pampered and catered to.

  “This place has at least six bars,” he said. “Would you prefer music or quiet? Or maybe a view?”

  Torrey looked down at herself. The casino dealer outfit made her look like she should be standing behind a card table, not sitting in a fancy bar.

  “Well,” she said, giving a little laugh, “how about wherever I’ll look the least out of place?”

  Julian smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Anybody who looks at you will be focused on how beautiful you are, not on what you’re wearing. Let’s try the Fontana Bar. We can sit outside and watch the fountains.”

  She nodded, her heart pounding against the wall of her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was the result of his compliment or her nervousness, or both.

  The Fontana’s hostess led them through the circular bar to the patio. They chose seats at one of the white metal tables, adjusting the chairs so they could talk while still having a good view of the dancing waters.

  Both ordered white wine, and Julian asked her a couple of questions about dealing blackjack. She managed to babble some semi-coherent answers while her mind rehearsed how to broach the big question.

  “You know, I was thinking. Why don’t we move up the discussion we were going to have in the morning?” Julian asked, right out of the blue. “We both know you want to talk to me about helping with your golf career.”

  Torrey tried not to show her surprise. Yes, she was dying to talk to him about her career, but she’d never suspected he’d be the one to raise it. Had she been that obvious this afternoon? Or was Julian simply a very perceptive man?

  “I suppose I haven’t been appropriately subtle, have I?” She cast her eyes down for a moment as she took a sip of wine.

  “Don’t worry about it. You go after what you want. I was sure you were going to ask me tomorrow and, frankly, I didn’t see any point in waiting.”

  Please let the next words out of that gorgeous mouth be, ‘Yes, Torrey, I’d love to help you.’

  She smiled, her eyes encouraging him to go on.

  “So, Torrey Green, why don’t you explain exactly what you need?”

  So, she did. She told him she needed a sponsorship deal that would give her enough money to quit her jobs and enter a series of tournaments this summer. And enough to live on through the LPGA Qualifying School tournaments in the fall. Julian listened patiently as she went into far more detail than she’d ever intended. At least he wouldn’t be able to doubt her enthusiasm.

  After she finished, he remained silent for what seemed like minutes, even though it was probably only a few seconds. Before he said a word, she could already see his answer in those dark, expressive eyes. Her heart took a sickening dive.

  He was going to tell her no.

  “Torrey, you’ve made a strong case.” He rested both hands on the table and riveted his gaze to hers. “Let me start by saying I’ve listened carefully when you talked about your college career. And I even did some research on my own.”

  Her eyes must have betrayed her astonishment.

  “Yes,” he continued. “I would never consider investing in anything without doing due diligence research. So, here’s what I’ve learned. You showed incredible promise as a junior, blowing all your competition out of the water from the time you were twelve years old. Then you were named California’s junior girls’ golfer of the year for two consecutive years. It was no wonder UNLV courted you with a full scholarship.”

  “I didn’t want to go into all that detail, but thank you, Julian.”

  “Then you had a fantastic college career. An All-American twice. By far the best golfer on your squad.”

  She almost felt embarrassed by his effusive praise. “We had a lot of great golfers. I loved those teams.”

  “It’s clear you have fantastic potential. I want you to know I think you deserve support, and I would like to be able to help you.”

  Her stomach went into such a spasm she thought for a moment she might be sick. But a couple of deep breaths settled it down enough for her to speak. “That’s great. Yet, I’m thinking your next sentence is going to start with ‘but,’ isn’t it?”

  He gave her a tight smile. For some reason he actually seemed nervous—and much less assured than the man she’d seen for the past two days.

  “I’ve got a plan, so please let me explain before you get upset. Then we can talk about it.”

  She nodded, her spirits inching up again. If he had a plan, it meant he would go to bat for her.

  “If the decision were mine alone to make,” he said, “I’d have no problem saying yes right now. You’ve convinced me that you’ve got the guts and determination to succeed, and your record speaks for itself. Whatever problems your big layoff may have caused, I’m sure you’ll overcome them.”

  Her big layoff? She stayed silent, but her stomach clenched again.

  Julian finished off his wine before continuing. “From the company’s early days, OTE has had a policy of not sponsoring individual athletes. We have a substantial sponsorship budget, but it goes to events like music festivals, art exhibitions and a few sports events. So, if you or another athlete, or your agent, had contacted our marketing department, the answer would have been a flat no.”

  “I’m used to those,” she said grimly, so wound up she couldn’t stop herself from interrupting him. “I’ve had so many I probably could make the Guinness Book of Records.”

  Julian started to chuckle but caught himself. “Okay. But just because we’ve had a policy all these years doesn’t mean it can’t be changed. Under the right circumstances.”

  “And do you think my case could be the right circumstances?” She started to feel a dust mote-sized particle of hope.

  “It’s certainly not impossible.” He reached across the table for her hand. As his fingers closed around hers, her body relaxed to his touch. “But I have to convince three other hard-headed guys.” His little snort made it clear that would be a tall order.

  “But you said you had a plan?” She thought she might die if he didn’t finish and end her misery soon.

  “It’s pretty simple. You’ve already got a head start because the guys all like you, and they’ve seen firsthand how savvy you are around a golf course. What they haven’t seen is how you hit the ball. So, that’s the crux of the plan. Get them to agree to play a round with you this week. If you can shoot the lights out, and if I really press them—which I will—I think they might just agree to make an exception for you.”

  Torrey squeezed his calloused hand. She felt like flying around the table and kissing him senseless, but held herself back. “You really would do that for me?”

  “Yes.” His jaw was set in a determined line, and his eyes narrowed. “But you have to know there aren’t any guarantees. It’ll be ultimately up to you.”

  She knew the pressure of playing a round with everything on the line would be unbearable. But her game had been solid for months. And if she couldn’t handle that kind of pressure now, how would she ever succeed on the pro to
ur? “I’ll be ready, Julian. Just tell me when to bring my clubs.”

  “I’ll talk to the guys in the morning. But I need to make something clear. If you do make the pro tour next year, OTE would have to get first crack at signing you to a long-term contract.” He looked as if he might be pulling her leg, but she was so excited she didn’t care.

  “If I make the tour,” she shot back, “I’ll wear your logo till I retire, free of charge. Hell, I’ll have it engraved on my tombstone.”

  Julian laughed out loud.

  Torrey couldn’t believe this was happening. After all this time and heartache, was she really about to land a sponsor?

  “There’s one other thing we have to talk about, Torrey.”

  Uh, oh, here it comes, she thought, her jubilation screeching to a heart-stopping halt.

  “You know I have to ask you what happened. Why you gave up such a promising career before you finished college, and why you have such a limited record since then. I won’t be able to convince my partners to support someone whose past has such a big, unexplained gap.”

  She felt like she’d swallowed a golf ball. Her throat closed up, and she fought for breath. Before she could manage a word, her eyes prickled with tears. Mortified, she fought to keep them back but they wouldn’t be denied. All the pain she’d been holding inside her seemed to be clawing its way to the surface.

  Julian sat quietly, letting her compose herself. When she was finally able to look up into his eyes, she saw no trace of judgment, just quiet compassion. He brushed his finger against her skin, smoothing a single tear away from her cheek.

  She reached into her bag for a tissue and blew her nose. Her jumbled emotions had her twisted in a knot, but she gave her head a mental shake. This generous man was offering to give her wings. All she had to do was play decent golf for him and explain why her career had been derailed. She could do that—she had to suck it up and just hope that he didn’t hold her past mistakes against her.

  “Yes, I understand. Of course you need to know.” She reached for her wine and drained what was left in the glass. “It’s just that it’s still very hard for me to talk about what’s happened for the last five years, Julian. So, you’ll have to bear with me if I stumble.”