Chapter Ten
TEN
HAILEY’S DAILY RULE FOR SUCCESS:
Risky ventures have the biggest reward—but only if you succeed.
The Malibu golf course spans two hundred acres of lush greenery with a view of the ocean in the distance. Palm trees line the exterior and an impressive clubhouse and resort offer a slice of golf paradise on the coast. The expensive membership guarantees the greens are well maintained, and carts and golf caddies are provided, ensuring you don’t need to do anything more than swing back and let it fly, all while enjoying a club-exclusive cocktail.
But that’s not the course Mr. Jensen and I frequent every Sunday.
His favorite is about a mile away. Coastal Greens is a smaller, quieter golf club with fewer frills, open to the general public. The dress code is less formal, and if you don’t carry your own clubs while walking from one hole to the next, they don’t get there. Drinking’s allowed on the green and gate attendants look the other way in regard to contraband alcohol. It’s a place for golf lovers who prefer the game to taking selfies.
I crack open a beer under the sweltering 9:00 a.m. heat and extend the can to Mr. J. He clinks his condensation-soaked can to mine and we take a swig of beer that’s gone warm already. Not exactly refreshing, but nostalgia flows through me at the taste of his favorite cheap beer.
I had my first cold one at seventeen out here on this golf course with Mr. J. He’d always wanted Liam to golf with him, a father/son bonding experience, but it wasn’t my buddy’s sport, so I agreed to learn how to play. If Mr. J felt disappointed by me filling in for Liam on those weekly outings, he never showed it. Back then, I was desperate for any real guidance that wasn’t selfishly motivated and I could always count on Mr. J to give it to me straight.
As far as fathers go, Liam had no idea how good he had it, but I certainly didn’t take the man’s advice or time for granted.
Out here on this golf course, I learned so many valuable lessons about life, hard work, and respecting women. His pickup line suggestions were obviously not to be taken seriously, but the memories made on this course over the years have stuck with me.
“Seeing much of Liam while he’s home?” the older man asks now, setting up his drive.
“Yeah... We’ve been hanging out.” I know he’s refusing to come to the engagement party, so I don’t want to bring it up, but I sense we’re headed there. The disagreement with his son has to be weighing on his mind and just like years ago when he and Liam would be at odds, it does put me in a rather tight predicament. I’ve always been diplomatic and refused to take sides in whatever argument they had going, but co-hosting the engagement party will definitely be seen as having chosen a side in this one.
But in my defense I agreed before I knew he wasn’t supportive of the relationship. Hard to say if I would have stepped into this role had I known. My respect for him is deep-rooted but so is my loyalty to my best friend.
He swings back, hits the ball and it sails through the air. “You’ve met Sonia?”
“Great shot,” I say when it lands on the green, then nod slowly. “Yeah, she seems like a nice person.” I place my ball on the tee and rotate my shoulders before getting into position.
“I’m sure she is,” he says.
I take my swing, but the slight tension in the air makes it a lousy one. The ball only goes several yards and lands way back from the green. Won’t be hitting par on this one, but today there’s more on Mr. J’s mind than golf and I want to be a sounding board the way he’s always been for me.
I turn toward him. “Heard you and Marsha aren’t able to make it to the party.” I noticed Hailey added them to the email invite list despite their insistence that they have no interest attending.
It was worth a shot.
Mr. J nods as we pick up our club bags and head off across the green. “First thing me and the old battle-axe have agreed on in years.”
That’s actually a term of affection he used for Marsha when they were blissfully in love, so it’s not said with any malice. I believe he still loves his ex-wife. He’s never remarried and I know he still wears his wedding ring when no one is around because there’s a very obvious tan line on his ring finger from days working in the sun.
I know the divorce hit him and Liam hard—making them both a little gun-shy about matrimony and lifelong commitment—but if Liam has moved beyond that emotional hang-up, I’m curious why Mr. J is so against his son getting married. Does he just not want him to get hurt or is there more to it?
“Can I ask why?”
He shrugs. “It’s the wrong decision and we refuse to support wrong decisions. Simple as that.”
“But why do you think it’s wrong?” Sonia has zero flaws as far as I can tell and Liam seems stressed, but with an aggressive resort build schedule, that’s par for the course. Otherwise, he seems to be happy and in love. If he was going to marry someone, it could definitely be worse.
“Because he should be with Hailey.”
I stumble over the uneven turf. “Hailey? Really?” My heart pounds slightly as the memory of yesterday’s sports training resurfaces. We’d successfully managed to keep it casual and platonic, unlike that day in the pool. It was as if we both knew we were wading into dangerous waters and needed to pull back a little. We didn’t argue, which was also good because arguing with her has the same effect on my attraction to her as flirting with her does.
Safe neutrality is the only way to keep things PG.
But I can’t deny that even when I’m not around her, I’m thinking about her more than I want to these days. And that’s never happened to me before with a woman. Out of sight, out of mind was a concept that I was very familiar with, but it’s different with Hailey and it’s messing with me.
Mr. J nods confidently as we reach his ball. “That girl was perfect for him.”
“Hailey? Really?”
“You sound like a broken record, son,” Mr. J says, lining up his next shot. “Hailey challenges him and doesn’t put up with any bullshit, but she’s as loyal and committed to that boy as it comes.”
Something in my gut stirs and I pray it’s the lukewarm beer not sitting right. Hailey not being supportive of the union seemed like a way to get Liam back for herself, but is Mr. J right? Does she have Liam’s best interests at heart? Either way if Liam is single again, it frees him up for another shot with Hailey.
I wipe beads of sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm. “But they decided they weren’t right for one another years ago.”
Or at least Liam did...
“Because he moved to New York. But when he came back, I thought...” He shrugs. “That’s why I sent him to fix her pool.”
“Playing cupid?” I say wryly.
“Hoping they’d reconnect. I thought maybe time and distance would have given them both a better perspective and if they saw one another again—now as mature, successful people—they’d see that a second chance might be in the cards.” He pauses as he grips the putter in his hands and bends slightly at the knees. “Didn’t bank on that Banks girl insisting on tagging along for the ride.”
“You want the two of them to get back together?” Maybe it’s just his own soft spot for Hailey making him feel this way. I know he was as much of a father figure to her back then as he’s always been to me, so maybe he just misses that connection.
Why is this revelation bothering me so much?
He hits the ball and it sails into the cup. He turns to me with a grin. “I know you’re not a Hailey fan...”
I wasn’t. I still shouldn’t be...but she has been growing on me in the last few days. She’s different than I thought she was and I’m forced to re-evaluate everything I believed about her. She’s actually funny and I always knew she was smart, but getting to know her through the eyes of some of her clients has been enlightening.
And after much, much internet searching, I did find the articles Sonia had mentioned about Hailey’s other clients—the ones she doesn’t publicize—which makes her that much more endearing.
She’s a good person and I like being around her, which has blown my fucking mind, but here I am—in a situationship with Hailey Harris that I never in my wildest dreams thought was possible.
And shouldn’t be.
Letting my guard down, getting to know her and starting to feel things for her I can’t quite label yet is even more clearly a bad idea if Mr. J thinks she should be with Liam. Hell, until now, I hadn’t even given much thought to the history between the three of us. I’ve been too busy resisting and denying my attraction to Hailey to really work out what it means.
“But that girl is truly special,” Mr. J says, cutting into my thoughts. “And I think Liam should open his damn eyes and finally see it.”
Unfortunately, I’m starting to see it, but Mr. J has raised a good point. Even if I could wrap my mind around the fact that I’m attracted to Hailey. And even if in some wild stretch of fate, she might actually be attracted to me. Even if the stars aligned and we could somehow move forward—past our tumultuous history—and open up to the idea of being together and not just right now in a half truce until this wedding happens...
How could I possibly go for my best friend’s ex?
I’m still plagued with the thought that night at my weekly poker game. A tradition that has become almost sacred as it’s my only real tie to my former life. Sunday nights when my football buddies and I sit around the poker table in my basement, with beer and snacks on hand, trash-talking one another, I forget that my career is over and that these athletes have gone on to accomplish all the things I’d set out to do myself.
Luckily, their skills on the field don’t translate to the poker table.
“Royal flush,” I say as I put down my hand and drag in a stack of poker chips. Even distracted, I’m still stealing their hard-earned league money.
“Motherfucker,” Damien Jones—quarterback for the San Diego Rogues—says as he tosses his cards onto the table. “This is bullshit.”
He says that every week. He’s the worst player of us all but thinks he’s hot shit, so he’ll never fold. Good thing the guy’s bankroll can support his lack of poker face.
I take a swig of beer, emptying the bottle, then reach into the cooler next to me for a new one.
My cell phone chimes on the table and I see a text from Hailey that reads:
Eight forty-five my place tomorrow morning for party setup. Don’t be late.
I grin. Her bossiness is starting to grow on me.
Damien nods toward the phone. “Looks like someone’s gotta booty call lined up for after we leave.”
The other guys laugh and rib me for my playboy ways. It’s a reputation I’m okay with upholding among my happily married bros. They’d never believe I was actually feeling actual feelings for someone anyway, and I’m not sure I believe it just yet. After my conversation with Mr. J, I’m not sure I can allow those feelings to continue.
As if I have any control over the matter. If I did, I wouldn’t have caught them in the first place.
Damien deals out the next hand and I clear my throat. “Hey, what do you guys think of the whole bro code thing?” Maybe it doesn’t apply in adulthood.
“Bros before hoes?” Jeremy Dexton—a linebacker for the Santa Monica Heat—asks, collecting his cards and peering over the outsized, gold-trimmed dark Gucci sunglasses he borrows from his wife.
“No, more like dating someone’s ex.”
Jeremy shakes his head. “That’s like dating a dude’s sister. You don’t.”
I nod. That’s what I thought...
“No exceptions?”
Damien sends me a curious look. “Which one of our exes are you trying to hook up with?”
I scoff. Before marrying his beautiful, amazingly patient wife, Alexis, Damien had the worst taste in women. This guy was like a magnet for gold diggers. “It’s not like that. I was just curious.”
Jeremy sends me a look. “There are enough women in this city that you don’t need to fuck up a friendship to get laid.”
Loud and clear.
But what if it wasn’t just about getting laid? Did that change the rules?
It’s after midnight when I complete my pitch document to Coach Baxter. I took Warren’s advice—though I’ll take that secret to the grave—and did my research. Baseball plays, stats, etc... I couldn’t coach a team, yet , but I was able to identify key areas in a player’s career where they could use some guidance.
I’d always thought that researching and truly understanding the industries was a waste of time. My glimpses reveal most of what I need to know—which team to sign with, which to avoid, future injuries... But maybe I could develop my business a different way. Still use my ability, but rely on it a little less.
I scan the presentation a final time, then hit Send. I yawn, stand and stretch.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch.” My entire body is sore from the sports training with Warren yesterday. I can barely lift my arms and I was tempted to slide down the banister this morning to avoid tackling the stairs.
Three hours learning some sports basics had been tough, but Warren was an incredible coach—patient, informative, and sincere in wanting to help me.
But there had been a distance I could feel.
Obviously, the day before in my pool had unsettled him as it had me. So, it had been a relief that he was focusing on the task at hand and keeping any ridiculous flirting at bay.
A big relief.
I do not need this thing with Warren escalating to something it doesn’t need to be. Shouldn’t be. It’s not like we could actually date. We’re totally wrong for one another, we have history that forbids it, and with my gift preventing me from fully opening up to another person, any relationship with him would be doomed from the start. My glimpse into Warren’s career-ending injury would always be the elephant in the room and how could a long-lasting relationship survive that underlying tension?
As I leave my office, my phone chimes with a message from him. I look at it and read:
I’ll be there bright and early.
The idea of seeing him shouldn’t be making me this excited, but the butterflies in my stomach tell me that despite all common sense, there is a definite attraction.
One that could be a huge distraction if I let it.
Operation Breakup has taken a back seat in recent days...but I need to stay focused.
Stopping this wedding all comes down to tomorrow.