Chapter 45 – Remington #2
“I wanted to come watch you play.” She turns her attention to Mindy. “Antonio tells me you’re playing too. That is fantastic, sweetheart. He said you’re quite skilled.”
Mindy shrugs. “I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve played, but it seems I’m not completely hopeless.”
“She’s wonderful,” I breathe out, looking down at my girl with what I’m assuming is a goofy, man-in-complete-love look on my face. Then something Mom said hits me. “Wait. Antonio?”
I swivel my head to see the man striding away from the black SUV he just parked. He blocks out most of the morning sun with his big frame dressed in black pants and a tan quarter-zip. He’s also wearing the cap Mindy bought for him.
Mom’s voice pulls my attention back to her. “Yes, when he drove me home after you and I had lunch a couple weeks ago, I told him I wished I could come to the tournament.” She pops one perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. “So we started scheming.”
“She’s the chief schemer,” Antonio says in his thick Irish accent as he approaches. “I’m merely the assistant schemer.” Then he nods at my mother. “Morning, Ophelia. Did you rest well?”
“Oh, well, yes. The accommodations were very nice,” she replies, straightening her cardigan with nervous fingers. Is she afraid I’m angry that she’s here?
I dispel that notion immediately. “I’m so glad you were able to come, Mom. It means a lot to me.”
She flushes a pretty pink and waves a hand at me. “I’ve always loved watching you play, Remi.”
“Where are you staying?”
“At the Avancé, same as you,” she replies. “Antonio picked me up from the airport last night.”
“I’m not sure what our dinner plans are…
” I say, leaving the sentence hanging as I look down at Mindy and meet her eyes.
While we were cuddling in the bed last night, she’d shared some of the details of her former marriage and how that dumbass Roger never prioritized her.
He was a horrible, disrespectful partner to her, and I will never be that guy.
“We should all have dinner together,” she suggests, her words accompanied by an enthusiastic head nod that tells me she’s not simply being polite, though I’ll check with her again when we’re alone to make sure.
“Mom, this is such a happy surprise,” I say, squeezing her dainty bicep. “Thank you again for coming. Mindy and I need to go get ready, hit a few balls and maybe practice our putts, but there’s a beautiful restaurant here if you’d like to get breakfast or have a mimosa.”
“Yes to both,” she says with a wink.
“Do you need me with you or should I stay with your mum?” Antonio asks.
I shake my head. “Security is pretty tight here, so you can go with Mom. I have an account here, so just charge everything to me.” I chuckle. “And don’t let her have more than three mimosas.”
Antonio gives my mother a playful glare. “I’ll do my best to keep the wild woman under control.”
It’s hard as hell keeping my hands to myself today, but I’m cognizant of all the TV cameras surrounding us. This is a huge event, and the press is swarming.
But when Mindy has a bad chip on the tenth hole, overshooting the green, the look of devastation on her face makes me want to pull her into my arms and hold her until she melts against my chest.
“It’s all right,” I say instead, patting her chastely between the shoulders. “Shake it off, Espinoza.”
“Yeah,” Cesar adds with a self-deprecating scowl as we stand a few feet from the green. “I fucking three-putted on the last hole.”
Chandler gives Mindy an encouraging nod. “You got this, girl. You’re still one under par, so just chip it up there and then nail the putt, and you’re back on track.”
But she does better than that. She sinks her next chip right into the hole, and we all cheer, as does the crowd surrounding the green. I have to resist the urge to pick her up and twirl her around in a circle.
When we get to the thirteenth hole, I spot Auburn Bouvier at the front of the crowd and give him a wave.
His wife, Gianna, is by his side. They’re a stunning couple, both with dark hair and light eyes.
Gianna flashes me a thumbs up, which I return.
I guess the storm eased up enough for their plane to take off.
“Those are the Bouviers,” I say quietly to Mindy as Chandler tees up for his drive. “I’ll introduce you later.”
“Wow, she’s gorgeous,” Mindy says, eyeing the statuesque brunette.
I tilt my head over and whisper, “Not as gorgeous as you.”
The look she shoots me almost melts my Nike golf shoes to the pristine grass. And I can’t wait to lose myself in her again tonight.
Gianna and Auburn follow along until we get to the final hole. My old friend approaches as we walk off the green.
“Good job, man,” he says, shaking my hand and pulling me into a bro-hug. “That birdie on the last hole was killer, and who is my replacement? She’s good.”
“That’s Mindy Espinoza, my executive assistant,” I reply, and his left eyebrow migrates toward his salt-and-pepper hairline.
“Any relation to—”
“She’s Juan’s daughter,” I answer, and he chuckles.
“Shit, that explains the talent.”
“Come on, and I’ll introduce you.”
Introductions are made all around, and our group chit-chats for a while before Chandler and Cesar give us a wave, telling us they’re going to the bar for an end-of-the-day drink. We’re in first place according to the leaderboard, and everyone is feeling good about our chances.
“I just love your hair,” Gianna says, looping her elbow with Mindy’s as we walk. I’ve never been jealous of a limb before, but I’m certainly wishing I was Gianna Bouvier’s left arm right about now.
Auburn gives me a knowing smirk. “She’s pretty,” he says in a low voice so the women in front of us can’t hear. “You don’t exactly look at her like she’s your executive assistant.”
We pause when two teenage girls yell out Mindy’s name from the grandstand and watch as a look of surprise crosses her face as she speaks with them. Then she laughs before signing their golf hats and walking on with a friendly wave back at them. I love that for her.
Auburn and I follow along, giving only brief nods and practiced smiles to the horde of reporters snapping photos and yelling questions at us.
Once we’ve passed beneath the grandstand and taken a left turn into the area where the media isn’t allowed, I tell my friend, “I’ve sent an email to HR letting them know we plan to pursue a relationship. ”
He nods and turns serious. “You’re the CEO. They won’t tell you no unless there’s some gross misconduct or…”
“Or what?” I ask.
His face looks pained. “Or if it doesn’t work out. Then she might make a complaint that could really shake things up.”
“Things will work out,” I say confidently, though nerves flutter down my spine. When I told her I loved her, she didn’t say it back, so…
“Remington Hale!”
Auburn and I stop walking as his wife whirls around, her green glare directed at me.
“Whatever it was, I didn’t do it,” I defend, hands raised at my shoulders.
Her lips twist to the side. “I know you didn’t, and that’s the problem. I just asked Mindy what she was wearing to the cocktail reception tomorrow night, and she said she wasn’t going.” She narrows her eyes in accusation.
“Oh.” I drag a hand down my face. Mindy and I weren’t even together before we left, so I hadn’t planned to take her as my date. But now…
I cast my eyes toward my girl, who has an uncomfortable grimace on her face. “It’s fine,” she says sweetly.
Taking a step toward her, I brush a hand down her arm.
It’s January, but it’s also Florida, so her skin is warm and tan from the sun.
“Of course you’re invited, Mindy,” I tell her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before, but I’d love for you to go with me.
It’s a private event only for the golfers, caddies, and their dates, with no media, so it should be fine. ”
Gianna raps her knuckles against my head. “Hellooooo, McFly? What is she supposed to wear? Women have to plan for these things.” Auburn snickers beside me, and I shoot him the death eye.
He clears his throat and takes on a very solemn his expression.
“I think we can solve this pretty easily. Bouvier has a store in Palm Beach.” His gaze runs up and down Mindy but not in a creepy way.
He runs a fashion empire, so his job is to assess whichever man or woman he’s dressing, and he’s damn good at it.
“Whatever you choose, we’ll probably need to take up the length due to your height, but there are seamstresses on staff. ”
“I can take you,” Gianna says brightly. “I need to go anyway because there are a couple beads loose on the dress I planned to wear. I didn’t notice until I took it out of the bag at the hotel.”
Mindy smiles and shakes her head. “That sounds like a lot of trouble. I can just stay at the hotel and get some work done.”
Absolutely not. However, I know this woman, and I’m positive she’s going to be stubborn about this.
Glancing around, I spot a door and wrap my hand around Mindy’s slender wrist. “Excuse us for a minute,” I tell Auburn and Gianna as I pull her toward the door that houses golf carts when they’re not in use. I hear them both chuckle behind us.
“What are you doing, Remi?” she hisses as I open the door.
I don’t answer, hauling her inside where we startle a young groundskeeper who suddenly stands and bumps his head on the top of the cart he was cleaning.
“Oh, Mr. Hale!” he squeaks, rubbing the top of his blond hair.
“I need a private place to speak with my… teammate,” I announce.
“Sure. Of course. Okay,” he rambles nervously. “I’ll just… go?”
“Yes, please.”
He scrambles from the garage space, his shoes slapping against the concrete floor before closing the door behind him. “I think you gave that poor kid a concussion,” Mindy scolds as I pull her behind me, weaving us through the forest of golf carts until we’re at the back row.
“He’ll be fine,” I say, climbing into one of the mint-green carts and patting my thigh. “Sit.”