The Wright Boss

People were everywhere. Thousands of people were already lined up on the course, being held back by a flimsy rope and held to silence for the players. Camera crews hovered around like early spring bees. As far as the eye could see, everyone was dressed in golf clothes.

Ryan ushered us into the clubhouse, and we were brought to a huge room with a balcony overlooking one of the greens. Landon gently put his hand on the small of my back to get me to follow Ryan to the bar.

“There are so many people here,” I told him in surprise.

He laughed. “Yes, golf is a spectator sport. Most people in here are professionals waiting for their tee time or those who didn’t make it to this round.”

“There are a lot of women in here.”

“Yeah, well, wives show up to this tournament a lot. It technically closes out the season until January. And, really, anyone can get in here as long as they know someone.”

We were stopped four times on the way to the bar—all golfers who were excited to see Landon at the tournament and asking about when he’d be back. He chatted merrily with all of them. Clearly, a lot of the golfers were close even though Landon had told me it was a pretty solitary life. The amount of time they got to see other golfers was pretty limited, and unless you were already out of the tournament, most guys liked to stay in the right frame of mind to play.

I suspected that Landon had been that kind of player. He had that sort of intensity about him. Plus, he had taken a job so that he could keep his mind active. He took this seriously. I could see it in the respect everyone gave him.

Being here, in this world, with him was a new and crazy experience.

To me, Landon was still a Lubbock-area Wright brother with the Texas charm and easygoing personality. But here…he was so much more.

“You’re a celebrity,” I whispered in his ear when we caught up with Ryan again.

Landon’s eyes glittered with humor. “I’m a professional golfer, love.”

“I know. I just…you’re a celebrity, Landon. I still remember you from high school when you were…wait, you were the star quarterback. I suppose you were a celebrity then, too.”

“Different scale.”

“Did you say you’ve known him since high school?” Ryan asked with a big smile on his face. “Oh God, is this your high school sweetheart who you told me about that one time?”

“No,” Landon said at once, his voice clipped.

I frowned at that. He had told other people about Emery? I wasn’t jealous about that or anything, just surprised. I’d figured he never talked about what had happened at all. That was what Emery and I had always assumed with the way he’d moved on.

“We never dated in high school. I’ve just known him for a long time.”

“Interesting.” Ryan passed Landon and me beers even though it was only eight o’clock in the morning and got a coffee for himself. “Need the caffeine to get through this day now that I’ve fucking kicked smoking.”

We moved over to the balcony and took a table from someone who had gotten up and left the clubhouse to go play. Our view was pretty stellar, and the guys talked shop in a way that was undecipherable to me. I knew as much about golf as Landon did about engineering.

By the time Ryan had to go warm up, I was pleasantly buzzed from the beer and in need of a water. I was about to get up when a camera crew buzzed over to us.

“Landon Wright, so good to see you back at a tournament today. Mind if we do a short interview about your injury and recovery?” the man asked.

I hopped out of my chair. “Go ahead. I’m going to get a water, and I’ll be back.”

“Okay. Be quick.”

I could see Landon didn’t really want to give the interview, but if he was half the celebrity he seemed to be, it wasn’t going to be the only one he’d give today when people realized he was here.

The cameras started rolling as soon as I hopped up from my seat.

“We’re here today with a PGA favorite, Landon Wright. This is his first appearance since he dropped out of the US Open in June. Good to see you here today, Landon.”

I watched as Landon layered on the charming charism. This was the guy I’d fallen head over heels for. The one who I’d held hands with while roller-skating and eating ice cream and snuggling in his bed. The one who I called my boss and fucker. I was his firecracker. And, somehow, that reality merged with this one.

I disappeared then, letting him have his moment for the camera, and stepped up to the bar. “Two waters, please.”

“Sure thing,” the bartender said.

“Come on, Ben,” a familiar voice squeaked from the end of the bar.

My eyes rounded in horror as I turned my head and found none other than Miranda.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I breathed.

She was seated on a barstool with a man who was one of the golfers that had stopped to talk to Landon earlier today. She was leaning into him and giving him a come-hither look. The term putt slut took on an all-new meaning.

“Miranda, I can’t do this. Not when I’m buddies with Landon.”

She trailed a finger down his front and grinned devilishly. “You’ve wanted me for years, and we’ve stayed away from each other. Time’s up.”

He put his hand on hers, as if to push her away, but he didn’t. She sidled up closer to him when he did nothing.

And I’d seen enough.

I felt sick to my stomach. I snatched up the water bottles as soon as the bartender handed them to me, and I hurried away. I needed to get Landon out of here. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Miranda had been refusing to sign the divorce paperwork, now, she was trying to find a replacement for Landon, so she could go from one golfer to another.

I shuddered and moved to Landon’s side. The interview had just concluded. He gave me a confused look when I appeared frantic.

But then I said the magic words to get him to move, “Miranda is here.”





Thirty-One



Landon


“What the fuck is she doing here?” I asked as I herded Heidi out of the clubhouse.

I probably shouldn’t be walking the course. Okay, I definitely shouldn’t be. But I couldn’t stay in the clubhouse and run into Miranda. That would be suicide.

“Do you really want to know?” she asked.

“Yes.”

We took the stairs and were outside when Heidi finally sighed and told me, “She’s looking for a new you.”

“A new…me?”

“Yeah. She was talking to that guy Ben that you know. Telling him that they’ve wanted each other forever and that he could now have her.”

I gave her a disgusted face. “God, she gives the term nineteenth hole a whole new meaning.”

Heidi snorted. “Nineteenth hole? God, you golfers are really gross!”

“You don’t even want to know. Double bogey and water holes have double meanings, too. You can probably guess.”

“Oh…wow. I probably can.”

I laughed at her adorable face as I had her thinking about anal play and blow jobs. “You know, if you’re interested…”

“Concentrate, you,” she said, playfully smacking my arm.

“Right. Escaping my crazy ex is the number one priority. Dirty bedroom play can be considered at a later time.”

“Oh, you are only going to be thinking about that now, aren’t you?”

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