Page 70 of Against All Odds

Tom drove the cart while Daniel and Joe walked with me to the next hole.

I took my time, pausing to sip water and adjust my cap against the sun, giving them the space to think about how they wanted to play this. No one, but no one, was going to support Daniel’s need to give his former son-in-law’s new girlfriend a hard time if that meant hurting their business. That’s not how this lot worked.

Daniel went first, standing over the ball with the club grounded, preparing to swing. The silence between us was deafening, interrupted only by the sound of the club striking the ball with a satisfying whack.

The ball ricocheted awkwardly off the hosel of his club, skidding sideways onto the neighboring fairway. Ashank. I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of my mouth as Daniel straightened, muttering curses under his breath, his face twisting with irritation.

Tom didn’t do any better. His swing looked confident enough, but when the ball took off, it soared into the air and sailed wide to the right, far off the fairway. He’d completely misjudged his alignment. He sighed heavily, shaking his head as he bent to pick up his tee.

Joe lined up his shot with careful precision. His swing was smooth and deliberate, and when the club connected with the ball, it took off like it had been fired out of a cannon. The ball arced beautifully through the air, landing squarely in the center of the fairway, exactly where he’d aimed.

“Not bad, Joe,” Daniel grumbled begrudgingly, his jaw tight.

“Thanks,” Joe replied, looking far too pleased with himself as he casually slung his club over his shoulder.

I stepped up to the tee box, sliding a ball onto the tee and grounding my club. The sun was warm against my back, and I took my time lining up the shot, adjusting my stance and grip until everything felt just right. I wasn’t just playing with these motherfuckers—I was making a point.

I brought the club back for the backswing, my focus narrowing to the ball. The air around me seemed to be still—the only sound was the faint rustle of the trees.

I swung.

The club struck the ball with a sharp, clean crack, sending it rocketing forward in a perfect arc. I followedinstinctively, my eyes tracking the ball as it soared through the air. It landed squarely on the green, rolling to a stop just a few feet from the hole.

“Damn,” Joe muttered, begrudgingly respectful.

Daniel glared at the ball on the green, his jaw tight enough to crack a tooth.

“So, as I was saying” —I adjusted my glove— “it’s poor form to undermine a local business. Don’t you all agree?”

They didn’t, but they didn’t say anything.

I walked up to the green, my putter in hand.

Joe, Tom, and Daniel followed behind me, their footsteps crunching softly against the grass. The ball was just a few feet from the hole, the perfect setup for a birdie.

I crouched down, squinting at the angle of the green. It had a slight slope to the left, not much, but enough to make the putt tricky if I wasn’t careful. I adjusted my stance, tapping the putter lightly on the ground as I lined up the shot.

Daniel crossed his arms, his silence radiating annoyance. Joe and Tom exchanged looks that said they needed to sort things out with me immediately.

I straightened, took a breath, and deliberately tapped the ball to smooth it out. It rolled forward with perfect control, gliding over the green and dropping neatly into the hole with a satisfying clink.

Joe let out a low whistle. “Damn. Thatwasimpressive.”

Tom gave a slow clap. “Nice.”

I looked at Daniel pointedly. Over the last two holes,I’d managed to turn two of his buddies against him, and not subtly.

I turned, resting the putter casually against my shoulder as I met Daniel’s glare head-on. “I believe it’s unacceptable to sabotage a local business. Especially one that’s working hard to bring value to the community.”

Joe nodded, not quite meeting Daniel’s eye. Tom coughed awkwardly, murmuring something that sounded like agreement.

Daniel’s face went red beneath the brim of his cap.

The game wasn’t over, but I’d already made my point, and judging by the look on Daniel’s face, he’d gotten the message loud and clear.

“Well, gentlemen, I’m going to get back to work. Enjoy the rest of your game.” With that, I went back to my office, confident that before long, the city of Aspen would learn that Sable Nees was under the protection of Maverick Royal.

Since I knew someone would check with Mav, I texted him:You’re supporting a tavern called the Wildflower.

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