Page 3 of The Perfect Putt

“The U.S. Open is next month, you need someone before then,” Fitz says.

I lift my ballcap and rake a hand through my hair before putting it back on. “I know, but I can’t afford to have a disaster happen during the week of the Open either. I need to choose the best person for the job.”

“I’ve been asking around, and I told Jada to keep an eye out for a good fit.”

I nod. “Thank you.” I pause. “But don’t send me any old golfer’s kids okay? Those are the worst ones.” I’ve already made a few elderly enemies from firing their spoiled grandkids.

He laughs. “Noted.”

I lift the golf club in the air. “Now let me sink this birdie and then we can go home for the day.”

“Sounds good.” He steps back, giving me plenty of room to putt.

I take a deep breath in and let it out, forcing my frustrations out with it. I need all of my focus to be on this one movement. With a gentle swing, my club taps the ball. It rolls right into the hole.

“Nice work,” Fitz says with a grin. “If you keep this up, I’ll have a big check next month.” I laugh and hand him my club to put back in the bag. The money a caddy makes is dependent on how much money their golfer makes, so Fitz likes to joke about the correlation.

“Hopefully a better one than last week.”

Fitz’s smile falls at my words. Last week was the PGA Championship, and I lost by a stroke to Zane Hastings, the most hated golfer on the tour. He’s unfortunately as talented as he is a pretentious jerk. Everyone avoids him when possible, except the newer golfers who want his connections. I’ve always avoided him, which is hard to do because we share a postal code. If I hadn’t grown up here and had a sentimental attachment to this town, I would have moved out as soon as he moved in. But since I love Coastal Cove, I just do my best to avoid him on and off the course.

“Second place isn’t bad, man,” Fitz says as we start to walk toward the clubhouse. Today was one of the practices where we left the golf cart behind. Since we don’t use them during the tournaments, I prefer to use them as little as possible.

“If I would have lost to anyone else, I wouldn’t care as much,” I tell him, but that’s not entirely true. I want to win every time I step up to that very first tee box. No matter how close I get, if I’m not taking home the trophy, then I spend every day up until the next tournament thinking of everything I did wrong and how to not repeat those mistakes.

“Cheer up, man.” Fitz slings an arm around me and squeezes my shoulder. “You’re number two in the world right now.”

“Legacies aren’t made from being number two.”

“Your intense dedication makes us a lot of money, but it also makes me worry for you.”

I laugh. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve got a good life.”

“You live in a house all by yourself and all you do is play golf or video games.”

“You’re proving my point.” I grin at him, but he shakes his head, his shaggy brown hair falling in his eyes.

“All I’m saying is it wouldn’t kill you to take a break now and again, maybe even–I don’t know–go on a date.”

“I go on dates all the time,” I say, pulling out from under his arm. My hand starts to feel too hot in my glove, so I rip it off. I hate it when Fitz brings up relationships. I work hard to bury the subject, but occasionally he grabs a shovel and digs it right back up.

“Going to charity events or sponsorship parties doesn’t count.” He lowers his voice as we near the clubhouse. “I don’t want you to be like these old jaded golfers on the senior tour talking about the good old days while drinking too much scotch.”

“Just because I don’t want to get married doesn’t mean I’m going to end up like that. I know you and Jada are happy, but marriage isn’t for everyone.”

“I’m not telling you to get married, I gave up on that a long time ago.”

I shoot him a disbelieving look before opening the door to the clubhouse. The scent of eucalyptus greets us as we walk into the lobby. I nod to the receptionist who smiles brightly at us before we veer off toward the locker rooms.

“Then what are you suggesting?” I ask as we walk down the hall. I smile as we pass the framed newspaper of me winning the Masters for the first time. Coastal Cove had a huge beach bonfire party to celebrate one of their own winning a major golf tournament. It was one of the best days of my life.

“To have some fun. Take a woman out to dinner, or the beach.”

I shake my head at him. I’m not taking any woman to the beach. That’s my sanctuary. I bought a beachfront mansion for that very reason. I’m not tainting that peace with a woman who will only be in my life for a blip of a moment.

“Fitz, just drop it. I’m happy with my life. I’ve got friends and a career I love. I don’t need anything more.” I try not to let my frustration leak into my tone too much. I know he means well, but he knows why I don’t want to get married or have a serious relationship. That’s not going to change because I take a random woman to dinner.

“Fine.” He sighs. “I’ll leave it alone, but only because I need to dip out of here. Jada has a showing at her gallery tonight and I told her I’d help move in the new pieces.”

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