Chapter 9
COLIN
My Saturday mornings belonged to golf. My standing tee time was a true reprieve after the demands of another difficult week.
When Zach couldn’t join me, which was happening more and more often now that he had three kids and a wife, I went solo, and after the week I’d had last week, I needed the break even more than usual.
With a thermos of coffee in my hand and my clubs already swung over my shoulder, I groaned out loud when my phone rang.
This early on a Saturday morning, it couldn’t be good news, and when I pulled it out of my pocket to see an unfamiliar number on my screen, I genuinely wasn’t sure if I should answer.
Usually, I would let it go to voicemail, but with Mallory’s trial so close and our lawyers working around the clock to prepare, that wasn’t an option.
I paused just inside of my front door, took a deep breath, and then slid my thumb across the screen, hoping whoever it was didn’t need a meeting right away.
“This is Colin Thayer,” I said once I’d pressed the device against my ear.
There was a brief pause before I finally found out who it was. “Hi, Colin. It’s Deja.”
My eyelids malfunctioned for a few beats, my heart suddenly pounding. “Deja?”
Wow. What an articulate response. There’s a true Stanford MBA at work, folks. Clearly, no one wasted their money sending me there.
“Am I calling too early?” she asked, sounding amused.
“Uh, no.” I adjusted my grip on the clubs, my fingers tightening around the strap. “I was actually just on my way out the door.”
I was also so surprised to hear her voice that I could barely remember my own name, but that wasn’t something she needed to know about. Especially because she seemed perfectly composed.
“Where are you off to so early?”
“Oh, uh, just to play golf,” I said intelligently. “I belong to a club in a suburb a little outside of town, so I’m usually up at the crack of dawn on Saturdays to make it out there in time.”
“Ah. Well, I’m glad I didn’t wake you,” she said. “Do you think I could come with?”
I nearly dropped my clubs. “You want to play golf?”
“I’d love to.”
“Then you can absolutely come.”
Deja laughed, the sound quiet but genuinely amused. “Excellent. Pick me up from Gabrielle’s?”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “How long do you need?”
“I’m ready now,” she said, once again surprising the crap out of me. “I’m not much for sleeping in either. My body clock rarely allows it.”
“Okay, then,” I said, dragging out the words since I was trying to push past the shock of this entire exchange. “I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon,” she said happily, then disconnected the call and left me to spend the next twenty minutes trying to find my brain enough to be able to drive and remember the address of the house Khaled owned, but his mother-in-law lived in.
Eventually, I’d recovered enough that I was pulling up outside the house to find her already waiting for me on the front porch.
She hadn’t been kidding about being ready either.
In linen slacks, sneakers, and a bright orange, fancy-looking sweater, she’d pulled her thick black hair up and even donned a cap.
The sight of her threatened to take my breath away and, if I was being completely honest, it turned me on too. Inconvenient but true. The woman was strikingly beautiful with curves in all the right places and an almost constant slight smirk on her full lips—and she was waiting for me. To play golf.
That was double hot.
“Good morning,” she said as I climbed out and walked around to open the passenger door for her. “Thanks for coming to pick me up.”
“Morning,” I managed without sounding like a complete idiot. “I’m happy to do it. I just didn’t know you golfed or I would’ve invited you before.”
“Oh, I don’t,” she said lightly, pumping her eyebrows at me before sliding into the seat and buckling up.
I stared at her for a beat, finally realizing that might explain why she didn’t have any clubs or really any baggage at all except for a small purse. “Why did you want to come golfing with me if you don’t golf?”
She smiled up at me, sunglasses already in her hand, but she didn’t put them on just yet, choosing instead to slay me with those golden eyes for a long moment. “It felt like a good day to learn.”
My eyebrows jumped up, but then I laughed and shook my head. I shut the door and walked back around to the driver’s side. A good day to learn. Right. This is either going to be awesome or a complete disaster.
Since my preferred club was a little outside the city, the drive took nearly forty-five minutes.
We stopped for coffee and breakfast sandwiches along the way, and Deja seemed genuinely interested in everything from the sandwich to the industrial parks and stretches of open space we passed once we got out of the suburbs.
As we munched on our breakfast sandwiches, I pointed toward one of the factories rising up on a massive section of land visible from the highway. “That’s one of Thayer’s manufacturing facilities. It’s a steel processing plant.”
Her head immediately turned and she leaned slightly toward the window. “That’s really yours? It’s enormous.”
“It’s one of ours,” I said, feeling strangely smug about it. “That’s not even close to the biggest one, though.”
As soon as the words were out, she turned to face me with both eyebrows sweeping up, and I realized I’d just sounded like an insufferable bragger. Deja laughed when I let out a soft groan. “You’re incredibly proud of that, aren’t you?”
“I’m not usually, but it’s also been a while since anyone has been impressed by anything having to do with a Thayer,” I said dryly. “Other than our association to the Westwoods, of course. People are constantly impressed by that.”
“Well, I’m impressed. That’s quite the facility. It’s no wonder Khaled is so eager to get into business with you.”
An unfamiliar sense of satisfaction and pride swept through me, so foreign after so long that I barely recognized it at first, but it also made me feel a little more at ease about the impending merger discussions.
Part of me had been questioning Khaled’s motives for agreeing with Alex about this, but perhaps there was nothing more to it than Thayer simply having the infrastructure they needed.
When we reached the country club, the staff knew me so well that checking in took less than a minute, but then we reached the cart rental desk and the attendant grinned at me.
He was a young guy, chatty and friendly.
I usually loved talking to him for a bit before I headed out onto the course, but as soon as I saw that grin, I knew I was going to regret bringing her to the desk with me.
“Mr. Thayer, you finally brought someone to your tee time,” he said excitedly. “I love that for you.”
I exhaled a heavy breath through my nose, but Deja blinked rapidly, understanding dawning on her face. She spun to look up at me. “I crashed your solo time, didn’t I?”
The attendant’s eyes widened and he quickly busied himself with his work, obviously realizing just a few seconds too late that he might’ve embarrassed me, but the damage was done and I wasn’t the type to hold it against him.
Instead, I simply thanked him for the keys and led her toward the waiting cart. “It’s really okay. Don’t worry about it.”
She nodded, but the revelation was obviously bothering her. “I’m so sorry. I honestly didn’t realize.”
“Don’t be sorry.” When she opened her mouth again, I stopped her from apologizing a second time by saying the first thing that popped into my head—which just so happened to be the truth. “Your phone call was the best part of my week.”
It was only when she stopped walking to stare up at me that I realized I’d actually said that out loud, but then she smiled, and the sight of it left me feeling unexpectedly light and warm as we headed toward the practice range.
Fortunately, it provided an immediate distraction, both of us forgetting about my admission when it became apparent that Deja was unbelievably bad at golf. She had no hand-eye coordination to speak of and the whole beginner’s luck thing didn’t seem to apply to her at all.
Her first swing missed the ball entirely. The second made contact but only sent the ball rolling a few feet across the grass. When the third launched a chunk of turf farther than the ball itself, I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.
She finally lowered the club and sighed as she glanced at me. “It’s okay. You can laugh. This is harder than it looks.”
“No, trust me. You’re making it look extremely difficult.”
She arched a steep eyebrow at me, even pulling off her sunglasses so I could see the disbelief shimmering in her eyes. “Okay, you might not be laughing, but it’s only because you’re trying very hard not to.”
Being called out on it shattered my composure and a laugh escaped, but to her credit, as soon as I started laughing, so did she. “God, this is terrible. I look ridiculous.”
“You look great.” I shrugged. “Your swing? Not so great. But it’s your first time. Just relax and try again.”
She sighed but slid her sunglasses back on and tightened her grip on the club. Her level of determination over the next few minutes was admirable, but her actual ability did not improve.
Eventually, I set down my own club and took a step closer to her. “Can I show you something?”
“You can certainly try, but don’t take it personally if it doesn’t work,” she said. “I’m starting to think Khaled might’ve inherited all the golfing genes our family pool had to offer.”
I chuckled and moved in behind her to adjust her stance, realizing the moment I did that I’d unwittingly put myself in incredibly close proximity to her. The scent of her tickled my nose, and through sheer force of will, I kept myself from sneezing.
Physically guiding her through a swing meant that her ass was only a fraction of an inch away from my body. Her shoulders brushed against my chest when I leaned forward to correct her grip.