Chapter 2
Matthew
“So that’s why you’re in Meadowbrook. Why keep it quiet?” My agent’s voice crackles with curiosity through the phone.
“What are you talking about, Travis?” I ask, sinking into the plush chair in my hotel.
“Oh, right. I forget you’re not a social media guy.” He chuckles. “Well, remember we’ve talked about the whole…‘unapproachable bachelor’ thing you have going on?”
“Unapproachable? More like a focused-on-his-career bachelor,” I counter. “I’m a delight.”
“I know the real Matthew Wilkes,” Travis continues, his tone softening to a more familiar warmth. “But the world doesn’t because you won’t show them.”
“I didn’t pursue golf to become America’s Next Heartthrob. I’m an athlete. I train; I grind. Social engagements are a distraction from that,” I explain, glancing out at the manicured greens of the Meadowbrook Golf Course.
“Yes, you’ve dodged quite a few things lately. But grit alone won’t land you the Summit Pro Tour card. Sponsors do. Last year, 40th overall in the Horizon Golf Tour—close but no card. Fans love you, kid, but companies need a face, not just putts. People just want to know the man behind the mask.”
“Sponsors…right,” I murmur, his words sinking in.
It’s not about the money. My dad was a big-time lawyer who invested very profitably and left Mom financially set after he passed. Both my sister, Alison, and I have trust funds. Our college is paid for—my golf is funded.
Money comes with certain privileges, and I understand that. But we were raised to earn our way, work hard for what we want. I know we were given more opportunities than others, and I don’t take that for granted.
I’ve clawed my way through state championships, college, and three years pro. Horizon’s tough, not a bad place to be, but Summit is my dream. Sponsorships are a big part of building connections and they can provide opportunities at bigger fields to prove I belong.
“So what does that have to do with being here? I told you I wanted a small town with no cameras or fans. Just a little break before the constant travel.”
“Well, the media says otherwise. Check your phone.”
I pull my phone away from my ear as a notification pings. I open it to find a social media post, vividly displaying a picture of the girl from the coffee shop in my arms, our faces mere inches apart.
“What?” I exclaim as I scroll through the flood of comments. @AuntClara: “Oh, you know, @EthanMitchell is fuming right now. I can practically see the steam coming out of his ears from the police station. Spill the tea, @BethMitchell” @HopeWells: “Mystery guy, huh? Beth, where have you been hiding him? And does he have an older brother, asking for @CharityWells. @CharityWells replied: “Don’t pull me into this, Hope. We all know you’re single and ready to mingle.” @EthanMitchell: “Wait…what? @BethMitchell, care to explain?” @OwenBennett: “Is that Matthew Wilkes? Dude, when did you get to Meadowbrook? Too bad I’m not in town to catch up.” @HearthBrews: “Matthew Wilkes, great catch!
Travis’s voice breaks through my thoughts, pulling me back to the conversation I almost forgot we were having.
His voice is steady but tinged with curiosity. “Why didn’t you mention you had a girl there?”
“Because I don’t,” I clarify, shaking my head even though he can’t see me. “I was at a coffee shop, and she tripped. I caught her before she fell. That’s all there is to it.”
“Well, the public’s eating this up.” I can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I’ve been getting calls all morning. And Hearth Brews is thrilled with the buzz surrounding you.”
“Relationship? She’s a complete stranger. I don’t even know her.”
“I hear you. But publicity like this? It’s gold. This is just one photo, one viral moment.”
“You know me—I like my privacy.”
“I know you do, kid. But like I’ve said before, you picked the wrong career if you don’t want to be noticed.”
“Why can’t it just be about the love of the game? Not the fame,” I mutter.
“Look, Matthew. You’re a good guy, a great golfer—your short game is killer—and I know you hate the spotlight, but it’s part of the game. I’m not saying to spill your life on the internet. In fact, I advise against it. Fans are loving seeing you like this! Imagine what you and Beth posing as lovebirds could do. It could land bigger sponsors or a special invite to Bluewater, which is tough to crack without the buzz. That’s your shot at the Summit Pro Tour. Isn’t that what you want?”
“You mean…like fake a relationship with her?”
“You wouldn’t be the first person to stage a relationship for PR’s sake. Maybe she’d be willing to play girlfriend for a little bit. Play it up through the Horizon Qualifying Series,” Travis reasons as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
My head is spinning. Is he serious?
“Are you really suggesting we play boyfriend/girlfriend for the cameras? I’m not going to exploit her just for the attention.”
“Just think about it, Matthew. You need this. Just don’t squash the rumor yet. Once you decide what to do, I’ll back you one hundred percent.”
I run my hand through my hair. How did a quick trip to a small town to avoid the public eye turn into this scandal?
Travis starts again. “How about this? I’ll do a little digging and find out who this girl is. We do know she’s a marketing grad, could know PR. And if you decide to move forward, then we’ll know how to contact her. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The line goes dead, and with a frustrated sigh, I toss the phone onto the chair. I plop onto the bed and rub my face with my hands. How would this fake dating even work? Leak photos? Staged dates?
I’m about to have the busiest part of the year with tournaments and events. The Savannah Marsh Classic is just a few weeks away. This is the time I need to have my undivided attention on my career, not rumor mills or tabloid disasters. Or relationships—real or fabricated.
My phone rings again, pulling me from my thoughts. I groan, half expecting it to be Travis again. Instead, Owen Bennett’s name illuminates my screen, a welcome surprise.
“Hey, man. It’s been a while. How’s baseball life?” I ask.
“I’m good. What are you doing in Meadowbrook?”
“Here for a few days to relax before tournaments pick back up. I didn’t realize you were from here.”
“Born and raised. Funny how you’re in my hometown, meeting people I grew up with. So what’s this thing with you and Beth?”
“You know her?”
“Yeah, she’s close with my twin sister, Emma. How’d you two meet? Or should I ask, how did she end up in your arms?”
“I saw your comment on the post…”
“Mhm.”
“It was purely coincidental.” I chuckle, unsure how much information to give. The thought of faking something sounds awful, but what if we did what Travis suggested and didn’t deny it? “But I guess in a small town, that’s all it takes to spark a rumor.”
“Yeah, the Madame C’s, as everyone calls them, spread the town gossip. But it’s been worse since they’ve discovered social media.” He chuckles.
“I bet.”
“And Beth just got back from finishing college. So everyone’s got their eyes on her. Including you?”
“Including me?” I echo, a laugh escaping me. “No, I’m just passing through. It’s crunch time for me; I’m not looking for anything.”
Owen laughs heartily. “Sure, man. Whatever you say.”
We talk for a little while longer before ending the call. I try to shake off the whole situation surrounding Beth, but my mind keeps circling back.
I open my phone to look back at the photo. I can feel my arms around her again. She is undeniably beautiful. Her brunette hair was tied on top of her head. Her green eyes, lighter and brighter than mine, stared at me. There was something intriguing about her that pulled me in.
We do look like a real couple caught mid moment. Horizon Golf Tour Pro meets marketing grad—maybe we could pull it off. A few public events, some photos.
I see how this could work to my advantage. My dream is the Summit Pro Tour card and the buzz, outside of my skill, could get me there quicker. I can’t believe I’m contemplating it.
I wonder if it’s something she’d entertain the thought of. Maybe she would know what to do. She just finished studying it, after all. Maybe she would be open to the idea. Understand the business side of things.