23. Heath
CHAPTER 23
heath
W hen my assistant Ellie told me that Daniel Vikar and a couple of his cronies had a tee time at the Royal Golf Club, I grabbed my clubs and headed straight for the course.
The golf club at the resort was one of the finest in the state—a pristine, sprawling course set against the backdrop of the mountains. It offered some of the most challenging holes in the region, along with breathtaking views of the Elk Mountains. Exclusive to the core, its astronomical membership fees ensured that only a select few could afford it. Naturally, Alexa’s father was one of them.
When I found them, they were on the third hole, already well into their game.
Daniel was lining up his shot while two other men watched, friends of his, big names in Aspen’s social and business circles. I knew them both—Tom Barclay, who ran a construction firm, and Joe Camden, a real estate developer with an ego the size of the Rockies.
“Mind if I join?” I stepped onto the green, with a casual smile.
“Heath!” Daniel said, looking up with an inviting nod. “Didn’t know you were free today—if I had, I’d have asked you to play with us from the start.”
“I’m working today, but you know, GM privileges,” I replied smoothly. “Heard you were here, so I thought, why the hell not.”
Tom clapped me on my shoulder. “Glad you’re here. It’s been a while.”
Like never! I didn’t golf with these assholes.
Joe wasn’t thrilled. He cleared his throat. “We’re already halfway through the round.”
“No problem.” I looked around the course. “I’ll just jump in here. Wouldn’t want to miss the chance to play with Aspen’s finest.”
It was the finest that did it, I think. Daniel finally figured out I wasn’t here to hang out with my former father-in-law. I was here to kick his entitled ass.
Daniel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He wasn’t going to cause a scene, not with an audience. “Sounds good, son. We’re on the third hole.”
He said, Son, like he was warning me to behave like one. He was going to be disappointed.
“Perfect.” I set my bag down and grabbed a driver.
With four of us now—the maximum for a round of golf—I made sure to make the most of the time I had to get my point across .
By the fourth hole, it was clear I was the better player.
My drives were longer, my putts more precise, and while I didn’t gloat, I didn’t exactly hold back either. With every perfect swing, I could see Daniel’s frustration growing. This was not how he’d hoped for a Thursday afternoon with friends to work out.
Well, hell, Daniel, I didn’t think I’d have this chance either, so we’re both surprised.
By the seventh hole, I was ready to do what I’d come to do.
“So” —I wiped my club after sinking a birdie— “I’ve been meaning to bring this up. I heard some interesting chatter around town about the Wildflower Tavern.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”
“Yeah. Heard you made a comment at a BBB meeting that you want the owner changed.”
“Maybe this isn’t the time or place,” Daniel remarked.
“Come on, we’re on a golf course; it’s where we shoot the shit, don’t we?” All pretense that this was a social call was gone now. “Then there’s been talk about people being encouraged to avoid a local business. Shame, really. The Wildflower is a great place. The new owner’s done a hell of a job with it—even Ben Greyfeather is impressed.”
Tom and Joe exchanged uneasy glances, but neither of them spoke.
“I’ve actually been thinking about sending my guests there,” I continued. “You know, give them a taste of the local scene. We’ve got a concierge package in the works— partnering with local businesses to make sure our visitors get the full Aspen experience. The Wildflower’s going to be a big part of that.”
“You sure you want to do that?” Daniel challenged, a hand on his hip, his stance one he probably thought was menacing. “What do you think, Tom, Joe?”
“That’s an interesting choice,” Joe chimed in support of his friend, his voice carefully neutral.
“Isn’t it?” I was fucking furious. This bunch of old white men scheming to push Sable out of business was disgusting—unfair on every level—just because I was in a relationship with her, and Daniel’s daughter couldn’t accept that her marriage was over.
I turned to Joe, my tone menacing. “You know that real estate development deal your son’s working on with Mav?”
Joe stiffened. Maverick Royal was well known in these parts, and everyone on this golf course knew that I spoke for him. I was his friend and confidante. I didn’t use his name indiscriminately, but Mav knew that if I did, I had good reason, and he’d be on my side without asking questions or explanations.
“Near Boulder.” Joe looked at me carefully. “Yeah. I know about that deal.”
“How’s it going?” I knew it was going slow because I’d checked with Mav’s executive assistant when Ellie told me who Daniel was golfing with.
“It’s going fine.”
I met his gaze as I shifted my grip on the handle of the club, my fingers tapping against the leather. The soft sound of a distant shot echoed across the course. Finally, I leaned the club against the ground and struck. “You sure?” It was a threat.
“Heath, what is it that you want?” Tom wasn’t dicking around. Royal Hotel Group was looking at a construction company for a new project near Denver, and he was hoping his company would get that contract.
“You’re all local businessmen.” I tapped the club lightly on the ground. “It’s important to support the local economy, don’t you think?”
Daniel took a step toward me.
“Should we?” I indicated to where the next hole was, hoisting my golf bag over my shoulder while the others pushed theirs on the golf cart.
Tom drove the cart while Daniel and Joe walked with me to the next hole.
I took my time, pausing to sip water and adjust my cap against the sun, giving them the space to think about how they wanted to play this. No one, but no one, was going to support Daniel’s need to give his former son-in-law’s new girlfriend a hard time if that meant hurting their business. That’s not how this lot worked.
Daniel went first, standing over the ball with the club grounded, preparing to swing. The silence between us was deafening, interrupted only by the sound of the club striking the ball with a satisfying whack.
The ball ricocheted awkwardly off the hosel of his club, skidding sideways onto the neighboring fairway. A shank. I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of my mouth as Daniel straightened, muttering curses under his breath, his face twisting with irritation.
Tom didn’t do any better. His swing looked confident enough, but when the ball took off, it soared into the air and sailed wide to the right, far off the fairway. He’d completely misjudged his alignment. He sighed heavily, shaking his head as he bent to pick up his tee.
Joe lined up his shot with careful precision. His swing was smooth and deliberate, and when the club connected with the ball, it took off like it had been fired out of a cannon. The ball arced beautifully through the air, landing squarely in the center of the fairway, exactly where he’d aimed.
“Not bad, Joe,” Daniel grumbled begrudgingly, his jaw tight.
“Thanks,” Joe replied, looking far too pleased with himself as he casually slung his club over his shoulder.
I stepped up to the tee box, sliding a ball onto the tee and grounding my club. The sun was warm against my back, and I took my time lining up the shot, adjusting my stance and grip until everything felt just right. I wasn’t just playing with these motherfuckers—I was making a point.
I brought the club back for the backswing, my focus narrowing to the ball. The air around me seemed to be still—the only sound was the faint rustle of the trees.
I swung.
The club struck the ball with a sharp, clean crack, sending it rocketing forward in a perfect arc. I followed instinctively, my eyes tracking the ball as it soared through the air. It landed squarely on the green, rolling to a stop just a few feet from the hole.
“Damn,” Joe muttered, begrudgingly respectful.
Daniel glared at the ball on the green, his jaw tight enough to crack a tooth.
“So, as I was saying” —I adjusted my glove— “it’s poor form to undermine a local business. Don’t you all agree?”
They didn’t, but they didn’t say anything.
I walked up to the green, my putter in hand.
Joe, Tom, and Daniel followed behind me, their footsteps crunching softly against the grass. The ball was just a few feet from the hole, the perfect setup for a birdie.
I crouched down, squinting at the angle of the green. It had a slight slope to the left, not much, but enough to make the putt tricky if I wasn’t careful. I adjusted my stance, tapping the putter lightly on the ground as I lined up the shot.
Daniel crossed his arms, his silence radiating annoyance. Joe and Tom exchanged looks that said they needed to sort things out with me immediately.
I straightened, took a breath, and deliberately tapped the ball to smooth it out. It rolled forward with perfect control, gliding over the green and dropping neatly into the hole with a satisfying clink.
Joe let out a low whistle. “Damn. That was impressive.”
Tom gave a slow clap. “Nice.”
I looked at Daniel pointedly. Over the last two holes, I’d managed to turn two of his buddies against him, and not subtly.
I turned, resting the putter casually against my shoulder as I met Daniel’s glare head-on. “I believe it’s unacceptable to sabotage a local business. Especially one that’s working hard to bring value to the community.”
Joe nodded, not quite meeting Daniel’s eye. Tom coughed awkwardly, murmuring something that sounded like agreement.
Daniel’s face went red beneath the brim of his cap.
The game wasn’t over, but I’d already made my point, and judging by the look on Daniel’s face, he’d gotten the message loud and clear.
“Well, gentlemen, I’m going to get back to work. Enjoy the rest of your game.” With that, I went back to my office, confident that before long, the city of Aspen would learn that Sable Nees was under the protection of Maverick Royal.
Since I knew someone would check with Mav, I texted him: You’re supporting a tavern called the Wildflower .
Mav replied immediately: Okay .
And that was it. No questions, no explanations.
As I expected, Daniel confronted me as I was loading my clubs into the trunk of my car at the end of the day, probably when they got done with their eighteen holes and martinis.
“Heath.”
I turned to find him standing a few feet away. He was feeling it all and showing it—anger, frustration, disappointment. I was looking forward to the show. I was pissed as hell at him and Alexa. I’d have a conversation with my ex-wife shortly after I talked to my daughter. The Vikar family needed to stay the hell out of my personal life.
“You’ve got some nerve,” he snapped.
Well, well, well. Aren’t we going straight for the jugular?
Daniel was letting his temper get the better of him—just as I had at the farmer’s market. And that hadn’t ended well for me. It wouldn’t end well for my former father-in-law, either.
I leaned against my Jeep, crossing my arms.
“You think you can waltz in and threaten me in front of my friends? You’re out of line.”
I shrugged. “Let’s get our facts straight, Daniel. I only threatened Joe and Tom.”
His eyes widened.
“I told them to not support your vindictive bullshit about going after my woman’s business.” I waited a beat and then added, “That was underhanded, shoddy, and stupid.”
“You son of a bitch.” He took a step toward me; his hands were fists.
“You hit me, I’ll have you arrested,” I warned him with amusement.
His jaw clenched. “You’re going against me for that trailer trash?”
I pushed off of the car, stepping closer to him. “You call her that again, and I will go about ruining you, former fucking mayor or not.”
Daniel wasn’t used to being challenged. His face was beet red. It wasn’t a good look for him. “You think you can? This is my town.”
“You fuck with Sable and the tavern, I will show you that I definitely can. Now, Tom and Joe are going to make sure that everyone knows where I stand on this. I better not find you working against Sable. Are we clear?”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “You really think you can take me on? My family was here before you were born, you asshole. People listen to me. They respect me.”
“I’m Maverick Royal’s fixer,” I replied calmly. “You think your influence matters more than mine? Think again. I know more people, have more connections, and carry more weight in Aspen and the whole fucking state than you do. I will fuck you up so bad, you won’t know what hit you.”
For a moment, he just stared at me, his face unreadable. Then he let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded. “You’re choosing that …over my daughter?”
“I left your daughter over two years ago. I’m getting on with my life and finding a partner who is right for me.”
There it was. For all my bullshit about not wanting a relationship, only wanting companionship and sex, the truth was, I wanted it all with Sable. Or at least to have the opportunity to explore it. How could I be such a moron to think a casual relationship would be enough with her? She consumed me, and that should’ve been a clue. Fear was insidious, and it had made me hurt and lose a good woman—my second chance at love and happiness.
“You have a nice evening, Daniel.”
I didn’t wait for him to respond. I got in my Jeep, started the engine, and drove away.