Page 72 of All Bets Are Off

He burst out laughing. “That is such a freaking girl thing to say.”

I ignored him. “I think maybe the breathing room you needed wasn’t because you didn’t know what you wanted to be. I think you do know. You’re just not ready to accept it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you’ll figure it out.” I patted his arm. “Now, come on. Teach me how to be Tiger Woods.”

He blinked. “Tiger Woods isn’t even a good golfer now,” he said finally.

“He’s not?” That was news to me. “Well, that’s a bummer. Who is a good golfer?”

“Um … Rory McIlroy.”

I immediately started shaking my head. “That dude broke up with a professional tennis player via text message. I’m not being that guy.”

“Fair enough. I’ll come up with a list while you’re practicing your swing.”

“Good idea.”

GOLF WAS STUPID. I FIGURED THAT OUTright away. Who decided that hitting a tiny ball toward a barely bigger hole with a stick was fun? An idiot, that’s who. We were only on the third hole when I made my opinion known on the subject.

“I quit.” I threw my club across the tee area and sent Zach a look, daring him to argue with me.

“Oh, see, you have more in common with my dad than I thought,” he said from his place in the cart. He glanced up from his phone, which he seemed to be glued to. “He would’ve thrown his club after that drive, too.”

“Do you really think comparing me to your father is going to get me to keep trying?” I hissed.

“Yes.” He went back to staring at his phone.

Rather than acknowledge the fact that he might be right about my little fit—seriously, I had zero patience when it came to hitting the ball—I sidled over to him. “What has you so interested in your phone?” I demanded. “Are you watching porn or something?”

Zach made an “are you kidding me” face as he shifted his attention. “Shortypants, if I wanted porn, I would just watch you try to tee up your ball. That’s more than enough stimulation for me.”

“If you’re not looking at porn, what are you doing?”

Guilt flooded his features.

“Oh.” I don’t know why I hadn’t realized it before. “You’re in contact with someone.” I swallowed hard. “How are you going to manage that when we’re married for another eleven months?”

“Oh, give me a break,” he said. “I’m not talking with another woman.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“I’m not talking with another man either,” he said. “I’m … monitoring the internal email system.”

That was so not what I expected him to say. “And why are you doing that?”

“Because two days ago my father said he would handle the accounting irregularity I brought to him. He said he would hand it off to the executive team.”

I waited. He obviously wasn’t done.

“He hasn’t done it yet,” Zach volunteered. “Why wouldn’t he turn it over?” He sounded frustrated.

“How much is it for?” I asked.

“The first one was about a hundred grand. The new one is five times that. I brought the discrepancies to his attention, and he said he would handle it.”

“And you don’t think he is?”

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