8. Beau #2
“I find that hard to believe,” Maddox says as he turns on one of the stand mixers. “And I’m not saying that because I want you to tell us more. I truly want to help.”
“And you’re a little nosy,” Theo quips.
Maddox holds two fingers up, very close together. “Okay, fine. A little. But in my defense, I hear the other end of this from Gabi who talks to Shelby, so I’m very invested in this saga.”
Saga is the understatement of the year when it comes to describing whatever this is between me and Shelby.
“She's just so defensive,” I bark out. I guess I do need to get some of this off my chest.
“Explain,” Theo says. “I need full context for my best advice to be given.”
If I gave Theo full context, he’d miss most of spring training, so I give him the most pressing issues.
“It’s everything I do. Nothing is right.
I’m not saying I’m right all the time, but it’s like she can’t ever admit that I may be right about some things.
I try to help her, she pushes me away. I try to make a suggestion, she tells me where to go and how to get there.
Which then leads to us calling each other names and bickering about random things, and by the time we’re done, I forget what started the fight. It’s exhausting!”
I try and catch my breath, because apparently just talking about Shelby gets me more worked up than I’d like to admit. Damn. I don’t have enough dough for a third loaf.
“I hate asking this, because I hate the guy, but have you talked to Chad? He works with her every day. Maybe he can help you crack the Shelby code?”
I shoot a look at Theo, and he immediately holds his hands up in defense. “It was just a suggestion. I’ve met the man once, and I think he’s a douche. But, in your situation, I had to bring him up. Apologies.”
“It’s fine. But talking to Chad is not an option.”
My voice has an unexpected growl to it, but that makes sense to me.
Because the more I’ve thought about Chad and how he’s been acting toward Shelby, the more I’ve become enraged.
Sure, there’s the fucked up swing and grip that he refuses to admit is making her worse.
But more than that, I can’t shake the image of him with his hand on her leg.
When I saw that, my blood spiked to a temperature I haven’t felt in a very long time.
And never over a woman. I know Shelby isn’t interested in him.
But how dare he blur professional lines?
Sure, they’ve known each other almost as long as we have.
Yes, they dated a million years ago. But he’s her coach.
He should be professional. At all times.
Then again, he should be giving her good advice and solid techniques to work with, but that isn’t happening either.
“Okay, we need to know!”
I’ve never heard Asher raise his voice. Considering I jumped out of my seat, Theo fell off his stool, and Maddox just tossed flour into the air, I think this is a first for all of us.
“Know what?” I ask.
“You. Shelby. What’s the deal? For months we’ve been dealing with the Shelby-Beau: are they going to fight or fuck tension,” Asher says. “We need to know why you two hate each other. Once and for all.”
I let out a sigh. “It’s complicated. And before I start, I need to say that to this day, I still maintain my innocence in the entire thing.”
“We’ll be the judge of that,” Theo says. “Now begin.”
“Vanderbilt, huh? Don’t want to play for the home state Tigers?”
I do the fake laugh I’ve perfected over the years of coming to this country club. “No, sir. Though LSU is a great school, I couldn’t say no to the business school at Vanderbilt. Need to have that back-up plan in case the golf thing doesn’t work out.”
He laughs like I just told the funniest joke in the world, adding a slap to my back. “Oh nonsense, Beau. You’re the finest golfer we’ve ever had here at Willowmere. We can’t wait for the day we see you walking the fairways at Augusta.”
“Thank you, sir.”
That is the goal—to one day play at the most prestigious course in the country. It’s what I’ve been working for my whole life. But what this member doesn’t know—what most people don’t know—is that I want more than just golf.
What that is, I’m not sure yet. But I know I’m not going to get it if I stay in this small town. Or go an hour away to LSU.
I want more. I want big cities. Bright lights. I want to be known. A who’s who. If that happens from golf, so be it, but I…I don’t know. As graduation came and went, I realized I want more than to just be a golfer.
“What’s taking them so long?” I hear Chad say as he steps up next to me. “Is it time to go yet?”
“No. Shelby hasn’t gotten her trophy yet.”
Dude yawns. Actually yawns. “Is it happening soon?”
I give him a questioning look. She’s his girlfriend.
Which, I don’t even know why. Chad’s my best friend, but he’s a douche.
Shelby can do so much better than him. Then again, I know the guys at our school aren’t interested in her, so she’s never had a boyfriend that I know of.
It’s not because of her looks. She’s tall, blonde, and athletic.
She has tanned skin from her time on the course, and the little shimmy she does before she tees off is fucking adorable.
But none of the guys at our high school see that.
All they see is the girl who took a five-iron to a dude’s car because he cheated on Hannah.
They see the girl who’s told nearly everyone at their school what’s on her mind, and didn’t mince words when doing it.
They’re scared of her. Plain and simple.
But if they got to know her like I do, and how Chad does, they’d know that yes, she’s a competitor. Yes, she’s fierce. But she has a vulnerable side too. One she only shows if she’s let you in.
And apparently she’s let Chad in.
I was shocked when I found out they were dating. I didn’t even know he liked her. Or that she liked him. But they seem happy, so whatever.
But… are they not? He barely congratulated her after she made her final putt today, and now he seems like he’d rather be anywhere else. I know if my girlfriend just won the biggest tournament of her life, I’d be front and center to see her get that trophy.
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
He nonchalantly shrugs, not taking his eyes off of his brand new Blackberry. “I’m going out with Maylee tonight.”
“Maylee? The cart girl?”
“Yeah,” he says, like it was the most ridiculous question. “I’m seeing other people.”
“Does Shelby know that?”
No way she does. If she did, there’d be a golf club protruding from somewhere in his body.
“She doesn’t. And you’re not going to tell her, right?”
I’m ready to spit back that yes I’m going to tell her, because no one deserves to be cheated on, when I feel a strong hand on my shoulder.
“Beau? Ready to accept your trophy?”
“What trophy?” I’m shocked, because last I knew, second place didn’t get one.
Dr. James, the tournament director and a big-wig at the country club, escorts me to the front of the room where the trophy presentation is about to happen. “We’re so proud of you son. We all knew you could do it.”
“Do what?”
“Win the tournament.”
Win the tournament? I didn’t win the tournament. Shelby did. Something’s wrong.
I can’t get my bearings as I’m pushed toward the front of the room. Other players and members are slapping me on the back, congratulating me. I’m looking around, trying to find someone, anyone, to tell me what’s going on.
I look over to my mom who’s still here, but she looks just as confused as I am. My dad had to get back to work, and since I didn’t win, there was no reason for him to stay. My mom insisted on staying to take pictures of Shelby since her dad couldn’t be here.
Shelby. Where’s Shelby? Is she still in the bathroom? I haven’t seen her since she left, but I need to find her.
“Shelby. Shelby won. I need—”
I can’t get out the rest of the sentence as I’m turned to face a bunch of cameras, because of course the country club brought out the local paper.
Not knowing what to do, because I’m flat out confused, I paste a smile on my face.
It’s fake. If anyone knows me, they know this isn’t the real one. But I don’t know what to do.
“Come over here, son,” Dr. James says. “Stand right here next to me.”
I lean in, because I have to stop this.