Page 54 of The Perfect Putt

“I feel like the pressure would get to be too much though. You’re training all the time, and trying to hold your spot against all these other golfers.”

“You’ve really been paying attention,” I say with a smile. She ducks her head to avoid my gaze.

“I’m trying.”

My heart swells at those two words. I’m not sure I’ll be able to convey to her what it means to me that she’s taken the time to learn about this world. A world she vehemently hated when we first met. I’m so happy that I don’t even tease her about starting to like golf.

“I appreciate it,” I tell her truthfully. “And as for the pressure, it can be a lot, but it’s as much a part of the game as anything else. The end result is worth it.”

She slings the beach bag over her shoulder while I get the trash bag and cooler. Our chairs will be taken up by the company we rented them from, so we’re free to head to the diner. We start the trek to the boardwalk, the sand kicking up around our calves.

Ellie resumes our conversation. “I don’t know, I think I’d buckle under all that pressure.”

“Are you kidding me?” I say and shake my head. “Ellie, you moved here to help your sister through a difficult time, got a job you didn’t want, worked hard to save what little you could, and all the while you didn’t give up on your dream of owning your own business. You believed in it so much that you applied for another job that you hated the idea of just to be able to save up more. You’re strong and ambitious. You’d be one of the best on the course.”

“Right below you?” she teases, but I can hear the emotion in her voice.

“Well we both know you’d never be good enough to beat me.” I laugh when she swings the beach bag toward me, barely grazing my arm.

We make it onto the boardwalk and she pauses to look at me. I wish I could see behind her sunglasses. Those brown eyes of hers always say more than she does.

“Thank you for saying all of that. And thank you for hiring me. I was constantly treading water at Coastal Coffee. Now I feel like I have a foothold to stand on.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’re glad you became a golfer’s assistant.”

She shakes her head and starts to walk off. I follow her, laughing.

“I was just kidding, Red.”

“I’m never saying anything heartfelt to you ever again,” she replies, but I know by her tone it’s in jest.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be serious,” I say to her when we reach the parking lot. “I’m glad hiring you is helping you reach your goals, because it’s helping me with mine too. You know how I’ve been this week? It would be at least ten times worse without you holding everything together.”

“So what you’re saying is,” she echoes me with a smirk. “I’m the best assistant you’ve ever had.”

“I guess that is what I’m saying.” I grin down at her. “Would you like an award? Maybe a plaque to commemorate this achievement?”

She tilts her head to the side, pretending to contemplate it. “I think I’ll just take a slice of pie.”

“With a canister of whipped cream on the side?”

Her smirk blooms into a full-on smile that steals my breath. “Is there any other way to eat it?”

I’m close to falling asleep when my phone buzzes on my nightstand. I grab it and sigh at the text on my screen.

Jason: Brock’s advice was terrible. I’ve given it time, and she still hates me. She might hate me more now.

I type out a response, feeling groggy after such a long day.

Miles: It’s way too late at night for you to be texting the group chat.

Emmett: Agreed.

Shaw: Come on guys, don’t beat him while he’s down. What’s going on, man?

Jason: She hates me, and everyone knows it. She treats all of the other guys great, but she argues with me about everything. Today I asked her a question about the TikTok video she was making and she acted like I was interrogating her.

Brock: You can always get her fired.

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