16. Beau
BEAU
Theo
Dude, what the fuck happened?
Maddox
It was insane! One minute they were arguing, then everything went eerily quiet, then Shelby’s jumping on Beau’s back and beating the shit out of him.
Beau
She didn’t beat the shit out of me.
Asher
Not what it looked like on the television, my guy. It looks like you got your ass kicked by Shelby.
My head falls back, hitting the headboard of my hotel bed. The movement doesn’t cause me to spill the glass of whiskey I poured—thank God. I need every drop of the brown liquid to help me figure out what the fuck happened today.
Or forget.
Honestly? I need to do both.
Beau
It looked worse on television than it did in real life.
Maddox
Nope. False. I’ve now seen it through both mediums, and I can attest that it was worse in real life. But there is the video I took on my phone if you want to see a third option.
Beau
Delete that. Now.
Theo
Don’t you dare! Send it immediately.
Maddox
I’ll do it in a separate chat. I don’t want Beau punching me like he did Chad.
Asher
Smart. Quite the hook there, Devereaux.
I regret a lot about today’s events. Playing more hungover than I’ve ever played before.
Snapping at Shelby multiple times for literally no reason other than my sour mood and how drunk I let us get last night.
Opening my mouth and swallowing that bug.
Not being able to get my head on straight at any point of the day.
But what I don’t regret, and I don’t care if the tour fines me for, is punching Chad.
I did it once. I did it twice. I’d do it again just to see the fucker cry again.
I can’t believe he showed up today. He’s always had gall, but today was a new level. I thought after our run-in last night he’d be wise enough to stay away. Apparently not. And fucking with her clubs? That was the last straw.
Theo
What did Chad do to deserve the punch? Mind you, whatever your answer is, I’m on your side. I’ve never liked him. Definitely not Poker Club material.
Asher
If he ever showed up in the bakery, I’d poison his dough. Guy is a royal asshat.
They aren’t wrong about that. I figured out that Chad wasn’t a good friend pretty early on, but he was just always there, part of the crowd, and my life.
It wasn’t until I started hanging out with Theo and Asher, and now Maddox, that I realized some guys—specifically Chad—weren’t the people I needed in my life anymore.
A hard but valuable truth to learn at thirty-eight years old.
He’s all about status. Name. Wanting to be on who’s who lists and thinks it’s a badge of honor to smoke cigars in the country club with millionaires and celebrities.
The problem is, he could never be that guy on his own, so he had to manufacture a way to make himself part of that circle by being a shitty golf coach and a worse caddy.
But not anymore. Not if I have any say in it.
Beau
In that instance, he fucked with Shelby’s clubs.
Asher
What?
Beau
Yeah. Phil told me. He handed her the wrong club on purpose. That’s why I hit him today.
Maddox
What do you mean today? Oh my God. He had two black eyes! And it was only one punch!
Beau
All I’m saying is that my fists have become intimately acquainted with his face.
Theo
Can we ask why he got the first punch?
Beau
You can. Doesn’t mean I have to tell you.
Asher
Oh…so he talked shit about Shelby.
Beau
Doesn’t matter why. What’s done is done. Now I have to face the fallout.
Theo
What’s going to be worse? The fine for hitting Chad or you and Shelby having World War III on live television?
And there’s the million dollar question. Neither Shelby nor I have any clue what’s about to happen. Because what happened after the fight is something we never saw coming.
While Shelby was dragged away, the medical team attended to Chad. The only good part of what happened was that he was forced to leave the course to go to the hospital.
By the time I got to the area off to the side of the course where security took Shelby, the tournament directors were there and none were too happy with our antics.
I don’t blame them. I made an ass of myself all day.
Shelby’s not completely blameless in this, but I made things worse than they had to be.
Once we were done with our verbal tongue lashing, we both admitted to our wrong doings and apologized.
As we sat there, hands clasped, heads hanging, neither of us looked at each other.
We couldn’t. We know how bad we fucked up.
We know the fallout is going to be epic.
We know Ethan’s going to rip us to shreds.
And we have no one to blame but ourselves.
All we could do was sit and wait for our punishment.
So when they told us that we were to finish our round that day, and the rest of the weekend, we were both stunned. We both asked if they were sure. We both volunteered to withdraw from the tournament, pay any fines, and serve any further reprimand.
But, the tournament directors insisted that withdrawing would bring a different kind of attention.
That all weekend, the only talk of the tournament would be our antics, and that if we withdrew, it would only further the conversation and disrupt other golfers as they’d have to comment on it.
They told us to go back out there, play our last two holes, then immediately go to the press conference and answer every question we were asked.
And to be on our best behavior for the rest of the weekend.
Translation: People are going to tune in now that our fight has gone megaviral. They want the eyeballs on the television to see if we’re going to act up again. If we aren’t there, no one will watch.
I might have been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night. I fully understand the media mindset, and recognize the tournament directors thinking with ratings and money in mind.
And I’m guessing they’re very glad they kept us on. We somehow finished the round with two birdies. And while we might not be at the top of the leaderboard, we’re a hell of a lot higher than we should be for how we played and acted.
Was our key to success the whole time for Shelby and I to rip each other to shreds? Hell, if I would’ve known that, we could’ve checked that off before our first tee shots.
Asher
I still can’t believe they didn’t kick your asses out.
Maddox
Dude, everyone gasped when they came out for the 17th hole. Then all of a sudden there was a swarm of people around us. It was pretty epic.
Beau
I don’t know if epic is the word I’d use to describe that.
Theo
No. It’s for sure epic. I just can’t wait to hear how you’re going to explain this on the next episode of The Back Nine.
Shit, I didn’t even think that far ahead.
Yes, Lauren has already sent me a thousand messages and emails asking what kind of fires she needs to put out.
I told her to hold tight and we’d regroup when I got back to Nashville.
Besides my rant last year about the America’s Open, I’ve done a good job of keeping the social media side of my career separate from my professional golfer side.
Sometimes I’ll talk to other pros, but that’s about the game.
Our approaches. I never give tournament recaps.
Well, except that one time. And now, a second.
Beau
That’s next week’s problem to figure out. I just need to get through this weekend.
Maddox
Do you need anything? Gabi and I can swing over and bring you dinner if you’re hiding in your room.
Beau
Thanks, but I’m good. Enjoy your night. I’ll order room service and a restock of the mini bar.
Asher
I know you aren’t playing tomorrow, but don’t get sloppy drunk and do something you’ll regret.
Beau
Thanks, but that’s what I did last night and you saw how that worked today.
Theo
Yes, we saw. Everyone saw.
I put the notifications on silent and set my phone on the night stand. The only reason I haven’t turned my phone off is because I’m bracing for Ethan’s phone call.
I just need to sit here and think. And drink. And think some more. And drink more as I try to put together everything that happened today.
I knew today was going to be off from the second I opened my eyes.
For starters, I woke up in Shelby’s hotel room.
What I was doing there, I have no clue. But there I was, sprawled across the foot of her bed, her cold feet buried into my stomach.
I wasn’t completely naked, but my pants were off, my mouth was dry as hell, and I couldn’t find my shirt.
So I did what any other person would do in that situation at 4:18 a.m.—I threw on my pants and snuck out.
I didn’t wake her. I didn’t look for my shirt. I didn’t even put on shoes. I just got my ass out of there, figuring I’d fall back asleep once I made it back to my room.
Except, I didn’t sleep a god damn second after that.
I tried. I really did. But every time I shut my eyes, I had this weird vision of Shelby wearing a dollar-store veil, and me kissing her in front of an Elvis impersonator.
Which…why? I could chalk it up to being in Vegas, but I’ve been to Sin City many times, and never in those trips have I had Elvis visit me during my REM cycle.
But it was a god damn nightmare I was scared I was going to have every time I closed my eyes.
By the time I dragged myself to the course, I was hungover, exhausted, and wanted nothing to do with the game of golf—or anything happening in the daylight.
But as soon as I saw Chad with Shelby’s clubs on his back, I snapped.
Any chance I could fight off my hangover and bad mood was out the door just at the sight of that fucking weasel.
What was his motive for coming back today?
Did my run-in with him last night give him the idea that it would be good to fuck with her, and me, so he decided to show up?
Was missing practice but coming today his plan all along?
I have no idea what’s going through that dude’s head, or what his motives are, but when this dust settles, I’m going to find out.