Page 69 of Against All Odds

“No problem.” I looked around the course. “I’ll just jump in here. Wouldn’t want to miss the chance to play with Aspen’s finest.”

It was thefinestthat did it, I think. Daniel finally figured out I wasn’t here to hang out with my former father-in-law. I was here to kick his entitled ass.

Daniel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He wasn’t going to cause a scene, not with an audience. “Sounds good, son. We’re on the third hole.”

He said,Son,like he was warning me to behave like one. He was going to be disappointed.

“Perfect.” I set my bag down and grabbed a driver.

With four of us now—the maximum for a round of golf—I made sure to make the most of the time I had to get my point across.

By the fourth hole, it was clear I was the better player.

My drives were longer, my putts more precise, and while I didn’t gloat, I didn’t exactly hold back either. With every perfect swing, I could see Daniel’s frustration growing. This was not how he’d hoped for a Thursday afternoon with friends to work out.

Well, hell, Daniel, I didn’t think I’d have this chance either, so we’re both surprised.

By the seventh hole, I was ready to do what I’d come to do.

“So” —I wiped my club after sinking a birdie— “I’ve been meaning to bring this up. I heard some interesting chatter around town about the Wildflower Tavern.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Yeah. Heard you made a comment at a BBB meeting that you want the owner changed.”

“Maybe this isn’t the time or place,” Daniel remarked.

“Come on, we’re on a golf course; it’s where we shoot the shit, don’t we?” All pretense that this was a social call was gone now. “Then there’s been talk about people being encouraged to avoid a local business. Shame, really. The Wildflower is a great place. The new owner’s done a hell of a job with it—even Ben Greyfeather is impressed.”

Tom and Joe exchanged uneasy glances, but neither of them spoke.

“I’ve actually been thinking about sending my guests there,” I continued. “You know, give them a taste of the local scene. We’ve got a concierge package in the works—partnering with local businesses to make sure our visitors get the full Aspen experience. The Wildflower’s going to be a big part of that.”

“You sure you want to do that?” Daniel challenged, a hand on his hip, his stance one he probably thought was menacing. “What do you think, Tom, Joe?”

“That’s an interesting choice,” Joe chimed in support of his friend, his voice carefully neutral.

“Isn’t it?” I was fucking furious. This bunch of old white men scheming to push Sable out of business was disgusting—unfair on every level—just because I was in a relationship with her, and Daniel’s daughter couldn’t accept that her marriage was over.

I turned to Joe, my tone menacing. “You know that real estate development deal your son’s working on with Mav?”

Joe stiffened. Maverick Royal was well known in these parts, and everyone on this golf course knew that I spoke for him. I was his friend and confidante. I didn’t use his name indiscriminately, but Mav knew that if I did, I had good reason, and he’d be on my side without asking questions or explanations.

“Near Boulder.” Joe looked at me carefully. “Yeah. I know about that deal.”

“How’s it going?” I knew it was going slow because I’d checked with Mav’s executive assistant when Ellie told me who Daniel was golfing with.

“It’s going fine.”

I met his gaze as I shifted my grip onthe handle of the club, my fingers tapping against the leather. The soft sound of a distant shot echoed across the course. Finally, I leaned the club against the ground and struck. “You sure?” It was a threat.

“Heath, what is it that you want?” Tom wasn’t dicking around. Royal Hotel Group was looking at a construction company for a new project near Denver, and he was hoping his company would get that contract.

“You’re all local businessmen.” I tapped the club lightly on the ground. “It’s important to support the local economy, don’t you think?”

Daniel took a step toward me.

“Should we?” I indicated to where the next hole was, hoisting my golf bag over my shoulder while the others pushed theirs on the golf cart.

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