Thankfully, she takes the hint. She’s gone when I get out, which is good because that whole sexcapade has left a sour taste in my mouth. I should have left Karen a long time ago. Or not gotten involved with her in the first place. And I know better than to mess with Samantha. She’s a good girl, not the kind that needs a fuckup like me. I should walk away from her and leave her unmolested. But just thinking her name stirs my dick to life as if I hadn’t screwed Karen the night before.
Too bad I don’t own a crystal ball. If I did, I might have skipped the rest of the week, which sucked ass. To top it off, today is a day from fucking hell. My head throbs migraine style from what I did with Karen. You would think she would have given up by now, but she hasn’t. My phone lights up like lightning strikes from all of her texts. And Dad has been all over my ass, trying to get the Sadler account locked up. I’ve worked like a fiend, not even stopping for lunch. Undoubtedly, that only adds to the cleaving sensation in my head.
Late that night, when I finally get ready to leave the office I recall that the firm has committed to playing in one of those fund-raising golf tournaments on Thursday. Normally, I am all in for these. But the way I’m feeling and my burgeoning workload, I’d rather crawl in a cave and avoid contact with anyone. But that isn’t in the cards. So the next day, I find myself at the golf course, bright and early with my plastic happy smile fastened on my face. Dad loves these things for entertaining and increasing awareness of our firm. I’m normally for it too—except for today.
When I finish registering, I look up and wouldn’t you know it, my eyes land on a perfect set of tanned legs that go on for days. Samantha stands in a pair of white shorts that meet a plain golf shirt with what is probably her company’s logo emblazoned on her chest. What I wouldn’t do to be that logo. Damn, she looks good enough to eat. Thankfully, she hasn’t seen me yet, so like a stalker I watch her work. It isn’t long before a couple of other girls with the same visors on stride over to her. They must be her employees as she shows them something on her clipboard. Moments later, they hop in separate golf carts and drive off, leaving her alone.
There are several things I could do, like go over and talk to her. Instead, I watch as a man approaches her. I know the asshole. He’s the fly that buzzes around honey when he finds it. This time he’s got the wrong woman. I shake my head as the smooth talking lawyer whose reputation with women is worse than my own moves into her space. I wonder what she would do if I intervened on her behalf and saved her from a guy who would only want to add her to his stats. Shit, what the hell is wrong with me? I have no right to her. So reluctantly, I turn away to grab my golf bag and roughly cram it on the cart.
“Easy with that, dude. What are you trying to do? Wreck your bag or something?” Jeff’s comments break through my angry thoughts.
I let go of it and glance up.
“I don’t know. Guess I’m not really into this today.” My eyes betray me and find my target like a heat seeking missile. Several other lechers approach Samantha. Irrationally, I have a quick notion to go over like a dog and piss on her so they would stay the hell away from her. It’s as if they sense her sweetness, and like fucking ants, they’re crawling all over her.
“…and I think we can be in the money. So you in?”
“Huh?” I’ve barely heard Jeff because I haven’t stopped staring long enough to focus on anything coming out of his mouth.
“What the hell, man? I just gave you my entire strategy on how we can win some change today in this thing. Are you hung over or something?”
Finally, I give up on staring because she hasn’t once turned in my direction, and I face him.
“Or something.”
He raises a finger in the air like he’s figured it out. I wait for it.
“Oh, I get it. Knocked you off a piece last night, did ya?”
Jeff is clueless. Drew would have called me out by now.
“Something like that,” I say drolly before checking out the peanut gallery waiting for a chance at Samantha.
“She’s hot. But don’t bother. She’s colder than dry ice.”
Suddenly, he has my full attention.
“What the hell does that mean?”
He holds up his hands. “Dude, she’s like everywhere and she shoots guys down faster than a gunslinger.”
I glance over at her and it doesn’t look like she’s shooting anyone down.
“You look like you could use a drink. Let’s go get you a beer. I could use one myself. I hope they have my favorite IPA,” Jeff suggests. His eyes trail over to the drink cart girl and it all makes sense. Even though it’s the last thing I want, I’ve dug myself in a hole so I don’t have much choice. We walk over and I watch Jeff in action as he tries his best to get the phone number from the girl manning the cart who looks barely legal. After I get a drink in my hand, I stew while finishing it off. I have to admit, I actually feel a little calmer.
“So, we probably should head out. You ready?” he asks.