Page 37 of Playmaker

This week we had an actual tee time. I’d booked it for late in the day. I wanted the keen golfers to get through their rounds so we had time for Callie to learn without being rushed by the group behind us. It would have been better to go on a weekday, but she’d never agree to that.

When I pulled up in front of her building in the Bentley, she was already waiting. She was wearing one of the new top and skort pairings she’d bought and she looked exactly right for the club. She had a new bag over her shoulder, holding probably her dress and makeup and whatever. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She started toward the car before I’d stopped it.

“You look nice,” I told her once she’d slid in and buckled her seat belt. I checked for traffic and moved north.

“Thank you.” She looked down at herself, as if to verify that she did look nice. I held back a grin. “Oh, you do too.”

Of course I did. I’d made sure of it before I left my condo. Growing up, I’d had to earn my mother’s approval before leaving the house, until I got good enough to not require her final check. “Thank you. How was your week?”

She drew in a long breath. “I need to apologize to you.”

My brows flew up. “What for?”

“One of the partners, Mr. Anderson—the man who came over at the charity dinner?”

I nodded, remembering the man.

“Well, he was talking to me, and said something about knowing you and, well, I kind of boasted that I had gone to Briarwood with you.”

Disappointment. That was what I felt. I hadn’t expected that of Callie.

“I don’t know what got into me, but he was just so pleased at the thought I knew one of the hockey players, and I was feeling uncomfortable about how I might have messed up at the charity dinner with that dress, and I wanted to make a good impression.”

“It’s okay.” It was done. I should be used to people taking advantage by now.

“No, it’s not. It’s what Benson would do.”

That made me laugh. “Is that your guideline—if Benson would do it, it must be wrong?”

“That might work more often than not. Again, I’m sorry. He thought we were maybe dating, but at least I didn’t try to claim that. I told him we were just friends. That’s okay, isn’t it? You said we’d go to your sister’s wedding as friends.”

That’s what I’d said. And it was what we were doing. “I can live with being friends.”

“And I have something else I should apologize for. But it’s mostly your fault.”

Callie could learn some things about apologizing. “You’re going to say you’re sorry I made you do something?”

“No, of course not. But earlier this week, Mr. Anderson wanted to see me and I noticed how nice his suit was. I hadn’t paid attention to that before, and you are right. My idea of earning a partnership by hard work and worrying about appearances afterward may not be feasible.”

Her firm was one of the most conservative in the city. Appearances would matter a lot to them. Whatever she wore to work must be better than that green dress or she wouldn’t have come as far as she did. “So, I’ve converted you to dressing well?”

“Maybe. My ideas and yours might differ a lot, but I’m going to have to up my appearance game. I apologize for fighting you on that.”

“I’m happy to help, if you need any advice.”

She shot a glance at me. “You know what to wear on the golf course, I accept that. I’m not sure you understand how I need to dress for work.”

I stiffened. “What do you think I’d want you wearing? Miniskirts and low-cut blouses?”

She sighed. “No, but even this.” She waved down her body. “It’s too snug.”

“It’s not too snug. It’s not slutty, it’s classy.”

“I understand that. But the first thing people are going to notice about me? Is my chest.”

“Maybe not the first thing.”

“It’s either the boobs or the hair. Guarantee it.”

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