by Mara Jacobs
“You know, I was there,” the clerk was saying to him. Darío looked up, confused, as the clerk continued. “In ninety-eight. When you shot the sixty. I was in the stands at eighteen when you drained that putt. That was the most impressive round of golf I’ve ever seen.”
Darío thanked the man, humbled that he would remember a round of golf played over fourteen years ago. Darío remembered it, of course, every drive, every putt, but that was because he’d never played a round of golf like that in his life. Never had again.
They turned and started to the elevators, the bell-hop following them with their luggage and Darío’s clubs. They were silent in the elevator and as they entered the room. As the bell hop unloaded their things he said, “I was there too, that day.”
Darío’s mind was filled with thoughts of being alone in a single room with Katie and he had to think for a moment about what the bell-hop was saying before it dawned on him. “Thank you. It was quite a day.” Normally a generous tipper – his mother’s hard life in service had taught him that – Darío was even more so now.
The bell-hop looked down at his tip. “Thank you, sir.” He turned to leave the room, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. “You know that sixty still stands as the course record at Firestone. Nobody’s come close, even all these years later.”
The man disappeared behind the closed door. Darío turned to see Katie standing in the middle of the room.
Yes, Akron was Darío’s lucky city.
Katie looked around the nondescript room anxiously. She’d put this into motion. Did she need to make the first move? Would it be expected of her? Could she do it? Wouldn’t it be enough for Darío that she had requested only one room? Couldn’t he make the next move?
He wasn’t. He had started to unpack his garment bag.
Of course, it was only mid-afternoon. What, did she think he’d jump her bones the minute they were finally in a bedroom together?
Would that be too much to ask?
The thought of being on edge until bedtime – she silently laughed at her own pun – was too much for her. It had to happen now or she’d never make it.
Okay. She could do this. She could be the aggressor. The starter. The one to set the tone. She took a deep breath and started toward him. He was pulling his sportscoat out from the bag, turning toward her just as she got to him. She ran into him and they both let out a small “oof”.
Why was she so clumsy around this man when things turned physical? She considered herself a fairly graceful person and had never had this happen with other men. With Darío she suddenly turned into The Three Stooges.
Darío held onto her for longer than was needed. The heat ran up and down her arm, but still caused goose bumps. She raised her hand to his face, but he stepped back, a look of regret on his face.
“I have to go to the course,” he said.
“Now?”
He nodded. “Sî, they’re having a pre-tournament dinner that some of the players are invited to.”
“They have those at every tournament, you haven’t gone before,” she said. She tamped down the thought that maybe he was attending this one to get away from the awkwardness she’d created by asking for only one room.
“Right. But I feel I should attend this one. They put on a clinic for club members and area youth charities and then a dinner afterward. I still hold the course record as you now know, and this is a tournament I have won three times.” He shrugged. “These people have been very good to me. I’d like to show my appreciation.”
That was so like Darío. Never forgetting those who helped him. Paying his debts. Being honorable.
“So, you’ll be gone for awhile?” She wasn’t sure what feeling was greater, disappointment or relief at her reprieve. He pulled out his coral-colored Lacoste shirt, the one that was so striking against his dark complexion.
Disappointment. Definitely disappointment.
He nodded. He pulled out his dress slacks and light blue dress shirt, put them with the jacket. Apparently he’d wear golf clothes to the course for the clinic, then change into dresswear for dinner.
He looked at her again. Started to say something then stopped. He took a deep breath, let it out. He grabbed his shaving kit, the coral shirt and retreated to the bathroom.
Katie sat down on the bed. She didn’t move. Just sat, thinking about ordering room service for dinner. About sitting in this room for hours obsessing about what would happen when Darío got back.
He wasn’t long in the bathroom. He came back into the room freshly shaved and wearing the coral shirt. Her eyes flashed over him in appreciation.
He cleared his throat. “Would you…would you like to go with me?”
“To the course?”
He nodded.
“For the clinic?”
“And for the dinner afterward,” he said.
It shouldn’t have felt so monumental to her. They had dinner together nearly every night. Practically lived together. But this felt different. This felt like…a date.
“It is a nicer affair…” he began.
“I have a nice dress. I brought one with me, I wasn’t sure if I’d need one or not. I figured if I needed more than the one, I could buy another somewhere.”
He nodded, looked at his watch. “I really have to get going to be there for the entire clinic. Why don’t I take the courtesy car now and you come later in a cab, in time for the dinner. Around seven? Tell the driver to take you to the Firestone South clubhouse. I’ll leave your name with someone there.”
“That sounds good,” she said. Her dress was somewhere at the bottom of her suitcase, getting pushed further and further down as shorts and t-shirts rose to the top. She’d need some time to press it off, shower, maybe even put her hair up. She’d been wearing it in either ponytails on the course or loose in her hotel rooms. Life had been so casual the last three weeks, dressing up sounded appealing.
She tried to help him with his clubs, but ended up getting tangled between the shoulder strap and his slacks that were on a hanger.
He chuckled. “Katie, maybe you should just stand over there for a moment.”
She stepped back, watching him effortlessly balancing his clubs against his shoulder and his shaving kit, its handle looped over the top of the hangers holding his dress clothes which hung from his fingers.
“Maybe you could just get the door for me,” he said, stepping clearly out of her way as she walked to the door.
“You know, I’m not dangerous or anything,” she said.
He passed her, paused in the doorway, caught her eyes in a hypnotizing stare. He leaned toward her. Her breath hitched. His lips met her…forehead! Forehead!
“Oh, you are most definitely dangerous, Gata. But to me or to yourself, that I have not yet decided.” He was chuckling to himself as he walked down the hallway.
Katie let the weight of the heavy door close itself; she was already turning toward her suitcases.
The clinic seemed to be running long. That or Katie was early. Darío was nowhere to be seen in the clubhouse, although other players were there. She nodded to a few that she hadn’t exactly met, but had seen in the past couple of weeks.
They were openly staring at her. First with looks of curiosity, then with admiration.
Another woman might look to see if a zipper was open or something was in some way wrong with her appearance. But Katie was used to men eyeing her. Especially when she put some time and effort into her appearance as she had tonight. It should make her feel good, but it never did. Strange men finding her attractive had never been particularly pleasing to her. It had only mattered that one man found her attractive. Her man.
The man had changed, but the sentiment had not.
She wanted to find Darío. For him to see her. For her to see him dressed up.
A player, one she knew was married, approached her, a cocktail in his hand, dressed in an open-necked dress shirt, jacket and slacks. “Looking for someone,” he asked in what wasn’t necess
arily a helpful tone.
“Yes. Thank you. Darío Luna, have you seen him?”
The man seemed disappointed. “Darío? Hmmm, he’s probably still out on the range. He was when I left.” He stepped closer. Closer than he should. “Can I get you a drink?”
Katie took a step back. “No, thank you. I think I’ll make my way out to the range.”
The man swept a look over her attire, raised an eyebrow at her heels and said, “It’s down the slope if you turn right out of the clubhouse.”
She thanked the player and made her way over to the range, cursing her heels and dress. It was definitely country club garb, but not conducive to walking a course. Fortunately the range wasn’t far from the clubhouse. The huge bleachers were already set up for tomorrow’s practice rounds and Thursday’s official start. The expansive rise of the bleachers eclipsed the range and she wasn’t even sure if Darío was still out here.
She made her way around to the front and Darío was the first thing she saw. Made easy because he was surrounded by children.
There were a few other pro players on the range, but they were talking with what seemed to Katie to be club members. Older men who were showing the pros their grips, their swings, looking for help of any kind. Or just wanting to say they got a tip from a pro.
Darío, in that coral shirt Katie loved and black pants, was talking with the children, all of whom were wearing t-shirts with the First Tee emblem across the front. These weren’t children of members, country club rats. These were kids from the urban parts of the city. The poor kids. Kids who didn’t get chances to play on a course like Firestone. Kids who might never have had a golf club in their hands before, might never come to a course again.
That was the point of the First Tee program, to get these kids interested in golf. Give them a reason to come back to the game. Give them an alternative. An outlet. Their lives would be tough enough in the years to come – probably were right now – and this program gave them at least a few hours to be just kids playing a game.
The children were a true Rainbow Coalition, representing every color and race imaginable.
Darío was working with them all, one at a time. The kids had obviously had their time with the other pros earlier during the clinic, but Darío had stayed and was making sure each got a second or two of his time.
He was talking with a little girl about eight years old. She had cornrows and her t-shirt was huge, hanging nearly to her knees, her ebony skin glistening from either the heat or exertion, or most likely both. Katie watched as Darío knelt down to be on her level and listened to her. He nodded, giving her time to speak. He appeared to take whatever she had to say very seriously. He stood, stepped back and the little girl stepped up to the tee and took a good whack at the ball, which Katie was happy to see go a fair distance right down the middle of the fairway.
The other kids cheered for her, Darío leading the ovation.
He seemed to sense Katie’s presence, and turned toward the bleachers. She walked to the front of the railing and he met her there. He leaned his golden-brown arm on the railing. She saw a tiny drop of sweat roll down his forearm, slide down his wrist and come to rest on the green metal railing.
She towered over him, the front platform of the bleachers starting at his waist. Her hips were even with where his arm rested on the railing, and she curbed the desire to lean there, against his arm, his hand.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, his shoulders raised apologetically.
“Not a problem. This is more important,” she said.
“Their bus is late for their pickup, so I thought I’d keep them company,” he said. As if it had been summoned, the bus appeared in the parking lot behind them and the kids started to put their clubs down and make their way toward it, waving to Darío, calling out thank yous.
“It will only take me a few minutes to clean up,” he said. “I’m sorry to make you wait. You look so…fresh…so lovely. I didn’t wish for you to be out in this heat.”
She shrugged her fresh and lovely shoulders, basking in his words. “It’s okay, really. It’s more important that these kids get your time. Your attention. They probably don’t get that a lot.”
He nodded his head, but seemed to be far away in thought.
“The First Tee is a great program for these kids,” she said.
He nodded again, waving goodbye to the kids as they were herded away. He looked back at Katie, his eyes full of some emotion she couldn’t quite read. Torment? Regret?
“These kids are me, Katie.”
The dinner was a blur to Darío. He couldn’t taste the food. He drank very little except water. The speakers seemed to drone on and on.
All he seemed to see was Katie in that dress.
When he’d seen her in the bleachers he was once again struck by her beauty. He should be used to it by now, but he wasn’t. And that dress. It was made of some type of material that floated, that shimmered. The part closest to her body – and it was very close to her body, skimming it deliciously – was light blue. There was a sheer, willowy layer over that which was a floral print, with creams, blues and yellows.
The dress was long, flaring after the waist into a billowy cloud, covering her long legs. Only her shapely ankles were exposed, leading to narrow, long feet. She wore sandals with more heel than Darío had seen on her before.
She had her hair up, her graceful neck exposed to him.
She wore ponytails quite frequently on the course, but this was different. Her golden hair was twisted in the back and held with some kind of thing that glittered when she turned her head. Small earrings dangled just below her luscious earlobes.
He’d never noticed her earlobes before. They were full and perfectly proportioned. Just right for nibbling.
Bah! He was not going to make it through dinner at this rate.
He tried to take his mind off of Katie, off of the night to come. The fact that when they returned to their hotel after this dinner – unlike their dinners every other night – they’d be returning to one room.
One bed.
He noticed she seemed restless too. Unfocused.
That was good.
He caught her staring at his hands as he cut his meat.
That was very good.
Finally, the evening wrapped up. Normally Darío would have stayed longer, talked to the club members, but after a quick conversation with the tournament director, Darío was able to make a semi-graceful exit. Last year’s tournament winner was there, as well as a few other players. They would be enough for the group of clubmembers to talk with.
The drive back to the motel was like any other night, and yet it wasn’t. Their conversation was like every other week. Katie asked about what players he thought would do well on this particular course. How he felt about his chances this week.
Her questions sounded half-hearted at best. His answers were barely one word.
When they entered the room, they both looked around as if it had gotten smaller while they’d been away.
Katie walked a few steps into the room. He closed the door and leaned up against it, content to watch her move.
She turned around. The only light in the room was the lamp on the desk at the far end of the room that Katie must have left on when she’d left. It lit her from the back, showing him the outline of her body, her hips, her legs.
He looked to her face. That striking, stunning face. Which right now looked apprehensive. He watched as she looked at the carpet, not meeting his eyes. She chewed on her lower lip.
Oh God, she’d changed her mind.
He’d have to do the right thing, of course. Offer to leave the room. Stay somewhere else. Give the room to her. It was the last thing in the world he wanted, but if she wasn’t sure, he wouldn’t press her.
If theirs was to be a short-term relationship he’d cajole, seduce, plead…whatever it took to get her into bed. But no, he’d be dealing with Katie – in some form – for the rest of his life, he had to be sur
e that she trusted him. That she wasn’t leery of him in any way.
His child’s future depended on it.
Dios mio, how he wanted her.
He made no move toward her, still leaned against the closed door. “Katie,” he began. He dragged a hand through his hair, hoping the frustration wasn’t obvious in his voice. She looked up at him, her eyes questioning. “If you rather I leave,” he said, then stopped. Her eyes grew huge, the blue exactly matching the blue of one of the flowers on her dress. The one near her collarbone.
Her head began to shake. “No…no,” she said and then she stepped toward him. Her heel caught in the hem of her dress and she fell into Darío, his arms barely able to catch her. He steadied her.
She let out a small groan. “Oh God, I can’t do this,” she said softly to herself, but Darío heard.
He dropped his hands from her. “It is fine. Really if you can’t do this – ”
She cut him off. “I want to do this.” She waggled her hands between them, showing a form of togetherness. Darío pretended not to notice when she inadvertently hit him.
“God, how I want to. It’s making the first move that I can’t seem to do. Not without causing bodily damage anyway.”
“Making the first move?”
She nodded, her gaze still looking anywhere but him. “I’ve wanted to for weeks, but I just…I just… don’t know how. That time in Texas was not the real me…I…” She finally looked at him, her eyes full of chagrin, her shoulders gave a tiny shrug. “I’ve never had to before.”
He laughed. God, what an idiot he’d been giving her the space he thought she desired. He reached out and – gently, lest some body part of hers came into painful contact with his – pulled her to him.
“You’ll never have to again,” he whispered to her.
He felt so good. Warm, strong. She knew she’d wanted to be with him again. Had known that since she’d left his bed in Texas. But she hadn’t realized the physical ache to be with him was so strong until she was back in his arms again.
She slid his linen sportscoat from his shoulders, reveling in the curve of his shoulder, the strength of his arms. She tossed the coat aside and started working on the buttons of his shirt. She heard him gasp as her fingers brushed bare skin. Saw his stomach contract. Good, he was nervous too.
