24. Shelby #3
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I say as highlights from today’s men’s golf tournament fill the screen. Beau wasn’t planning on playing this week even before Las Vegas, and same for me on the women’s tour, but that isn’t stopping the reporters from asking golfers their thoughts on our marriage.
“Honestly, I was shocked to hear it.” That comes from Libby Prescott, the woman who I’d call my closest friend on tour, which isn’t saying much considering I’m also known as a lone wolf.
“Shelby never really talked about her dating life, but if she’s happy, then so am I.
I just need to know where she’s registered. ”
“That was a nice little joke she threw in there,” Beau says as one of the male golfers comes on and is asked the same question. “We should get a registry. All these rich assholes we play with could afford to give us a present.”
“I’ll make sure to add the coffee maker,” I say as another male golfer begins to talk. Everyone repeats the basic PR fluff statements—that they’re happy for us. That they didn’t know we were dating, but as long as we’re happy, so are they.
But then the television camera flashes to a person who makes both me and Beau sit straight up in our seats.
“It’s all a bunch of crap,” Chad says, staring straight into the camera. “They hate each other. Hell, she dated me! She never wanted Beau. But clearly, because I cut them both loose within the last few weeks, this is their way of getting back at me. Ganging up on me. No one should believe this.”
Beau turns off the channel, blood racing to his face as he jumps off the couch.
“I’m going to fucking murder him.”
“Easy there, Big Boy,” I say, reaching over and pulling him back down. “As your knuckles learned from last week, he’s not worth it.”
Beau tries to even out his breathing before he turns to me. “How can you be so calm about him? He tried to ruin you! Many times. Hell, I still believe he intentionally gave you shitty coaching just to fuck with you. How do you not want to kill him?”
“My calmness doesn’t mean I don’t want to murder him.
Because I do. He’s gone to top of the list, even over you,” I say, trying to make a joke that doesn’t land.
“But he’s a small man with little dick syndrome who’s going to bury himself because he no longer has your coattails to ride on.
He’s going to come back here and have to coach blue-haired retirees because no one is going to hire him ever again. ”
“How do you know that?” he asks. “Also, remind me to talk to the general manager of the club tomorrow. See if we can get his membership revoked.”
“See, now that’s the part that’s going to hurt him. All he has ever wanted is status. To be the guy next to the guy, because he’s always known he couldn’t do it himself. That’s how we ruin him. Slowly. Behind the scenes. Making him feel smaller than he already is.”
What Beau doesn’t know is that I fully plan to use any and all media attention I get this week, and any questions I get in the future about my swing, to throw Chad under the bus. I still don’t know how he’s gotten other clients to vouch for him, but I’m sure as hell not going to be that girl.
“Fine,” Beau groans. “But I’m done watching this shit. It had to be a really quiet golf day if the question of the day is about our marriage.”
“I agree,” I say, taking the remote from him. “Let’s pick something else to watch.”
“This is very couple-y of us,” Beau says as I launch one of the streaming apps. “Oh! There’s a new alien show I wanted to check out.”
“Veto,” I reply quickly. “How about true crime?”
“And give you more ideas of how to murder me? I think I’ll pass.”
I keep flipping through the streaming options, when something catches my eye.
“Have you ever watched this show?”
Beau looks at the one I stopped on. “The lawyer one?”
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s always been on my ‘one day I’ll watch’ list.”
“I haven’t. But I love a good lawyer show,” Beau offers.
“And I love hot guys in suits. Much better than dudes in khakis.”
Beau slaps my leg, but then takes the opportunity to move closer, bringing my feet to his lap as I lay back down. “If binge watching a show together isn’t a sign of a happy marriage, I don’t know what is.”
“It would be better if you had snacks.”
I don’t know which one of those words causes Beau to jump off the couch, but he’s up in half a second, speed walking through the house.
“Where are you going?”
Beau doesn’t reply as I prop myself up to watch him hustle through the open concept layout heading to the kitchen. I lose him as he walks into his garage, but then he comes back with an armful of…
“Is that Sprite and Doritos?”
My jaw drops as Beau brings in two cans of Sprite—because canned Sprite is the elite version of the drink—and my favorite flavor of Doritos—also known as the purple bag.
“You wanted snacks. I bring snacks.”
I have no idea how he knows this about me. Did I mention it? Maybe Gabi did? I’m not sure, but the kindness of the gesture isn’t lost on me.
“Thank you.”
He gives me a soft smile as he repositions my legs on his lap. “You’re welcome. Now let’s start our first official show as a married couple.”