Page 16 of Playmaker

I took my opening. “The piece of paper they give you when you buy something, listing the items and prices. I can pay for my clothes.” The corner of his mouth curved up and I wasn’t going to like what he was going to say. But I would fight him for the right to pay for anything I wore.

“I don’t have a receipt.”

“What did you do with it?”

“Nothing. They don’t charge me.”

This made no sense. “What do you mean, they don’t charge you?”

“They’re one of my sponsors. When I tell them I want something, they just send it over.”

My mouth fell open and I knew I looked shocked, but this…this was not anything I was familiar with. “They just give you stuff?” I heard my voice, high and squeaky. The tax issues that would cause…

“That’s cool.”

I turned my glare to Darcy, who at least lived in the same universe as I did. “It’s not cool, it’s—” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Not without sounding priggish or stupid.

Darcy grinned at me. “It is cool, but go on, get dressed.” He dropped the smile, mirroring Cooper. “You have a tee time, Cal.”

I gave him my middle finger, then picked up the bag and went to my room. I might have flounced.

Once there, I set the bag on my bed and looked inside to see what Mr. Cool had asked for. The fabrics felt silky in my hands as I pulled them out.

A top, with a logo on the pocket, in a buttery yellow color. In two sizes. Skorts, in a green and yellow pattern. A matching sweater. Three dresses, two in different sizes of the same copper color, one in green.

Ha! I knew green was my color.

I looked for tags, to find out how much this stuff cost so I could repay someone for it. But there were no price tags. Nothing but the care and washing instructions. Not even a bit of plastic or a stretched-out hole from where a tag had been pulled off. Expensive, but to find out how expensive, I’d have to look online or go to the store. I tried to imagine walking in with cash and asking for a manager to give the money to. No, that wasn’t going to work. I’d have to come up with something else.

I tried on the first copper dress and went into the en suite to see how it looked. It fit, which was the first shocker. And it flattered me. I wasn’t good at clothes and fashion shit, but even I could see that I looked…well, more like women did who cared about how they looked. I sniffed.

The first top was too small. The second fit perfectly. When I pulled on the matching skort and checked the mirror…again, it looked good. Not just that the colors were nice and the fit was right. It looked like something rich people would wear. This I could wear to the golf tournament, and I’d look like everyone else. Well, not the shoes, but I’d buy some.

I carefully folded up the copper dress to put in my tote bag—for thediningroom—and returned everything else to the shopping bag. I’d repay Cooper somehow, but for now I could be gracious and take advantage of this opportunity. Even if it killed me.

I opened my door and stepped out, only to hear the two guys slagging on my dress. The one from the charity dinner.

“I didn’t see her before she left, or I’d never have let her walk out in that.”

Oh, was that so, Darcy? How were you going to stop me?

“I spent the whole night fixated on that ugly piece of shit. How did she end up with something like that?”

I blinked back unexpected tears and marched out to shut them up. “I looked for the most horrible dress I could find just to get your attention,Cooper.Would have hated for you two not to have something to gossip about. Feel better now?”

Darcy’s cheeks flushed. “Sorry, Cal, but you’re hopeless with that stuff, and you didn’t let me help you.”

I ignored him. I didn’t need him making me look even more hopeless in front of Mr. “they give me stuff” Hockey Player.

I looked at Cooper, finally, noticing that he also looked a little embarrassed.Good. “We have a tee time?”

“Right. Nice to meet you, Darcy.”

I picked up my tote and then stalked to the door, Cooper following closely. I didn’t wait for him to open it, just pulled it back and marched through. I heard it close as he followed me down the hallway.

“I’m sorry, Callie. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

I whipped around. “Then tell me what youdidmean to do.”

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