Page 52 of Playmaker

“Ah, Benson. You’re working on Cartwright’s with Palmer, aren’t you?” Anderson started back to his own office, and Benson had to follow. “Would you mind passing on…”

I relaxed for a brief moment. I was impressing Anderson, and a petty part of me enjoyed that Benson was going to stew over who my golfing friend was. He’d never guess.

Chapter16

They had my back

Callie

I had startedto look forward to Sundays at Briarwood. It was good to get out of the office and leave work behind. One week Darcy came with us and pretended to caddy. I’d played better that day, more relaxed with him around. I’d been happy to see him and Cooper getting along. Technically, I was doing this to advance my career, but neither tax nor law were mentioned all day.

I didn’t have to worry about how I looked, since that was covered. And now, my game still needed improvement but I knew what I was doing. And I was doing it well enough. This week, no one had played through, which I counted as a major accomplishment. It had been rainy this morning, so people had canceled their tee times and there were fewer people on the course, but I was feeling good about my progress, and tremendously grateful to Cooper.

I’d decided that gratitude was why I’d leapt to defend him from Duffy. It didn’t explain that strange urge I’d had to cuddle, but I had enough problems to deal with so I set that aside.

We’d agreed to head to the locker rooms before meeting for dinner. I changed into a dress and fixed my hair and makeup. I no longer ended the day with a pink nose. There was something almost like a tan on the skin visible through my freckles. I looked okay, I thought. More than okay. I looked good. Would Cooper approve?

A woman came into the restroom, nodded at me and continued into the next section. She didn’t even raise an eyebrow—she thought I belonged.

I pulled the door open, ready to share my triumph with Cooper, but before I got close to him I heard a Boston accent drawl out, “If it isn’t the little Cooper.”

My brows shot up, not just at calling Cooper little, since he was anything but, but at how his whole body stiffened. Should I step forward and offer support, or would he rather handle this without me around?

“If it isn’t the big Winthrop,” Cooper responded.

A man, early thirties, stopped in front of Cooper. He was a few inches shorter than the hockey player, softness around his arms and middle indicating an easy life. No question who would win a fight. Some might call the other man attractive, with dark brows and thick dark hair, a firm chin and straight nose, but something about the eyes and the drawl convinced me this was another Benson.

“I didn’t think you golfed.” That drawl had to be an affectation.

“I’m with a friend.” Cooper looked back and I moved beside him. Was that a flash of relief in his eyes? “Callie, this is a friend of my brother’s, Remington Winthrop.”

Seriously? What a douchebag name.

“Pleased to meet you.” Douchebag’s eyes ran down my body, coming back up to land on my breasts.

Yep, douchebag.

“Winthrop lives in Boston. So, slumming it up north?”

He moved his attention back to Cooper. “Something like that. We’re working with a firm up here. I came to make sure they’re getting their shit done.” He looked around the clubhouse, late afternoon sun lighting up the interior. “Not a bad place.” He smirked at Cooper. “You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?”

I could feel the tension in Cooper’s body. This was not the confident man I was used to. What the fuck had happened with Douchington Winthrop?

“What do you do?” I asked, distracting him.

He gave me a dismissive glance. “Finance. Business stuff.”

Right. Like I wouldn’t understand. Cooper was still stiff beside me.

“All those big numbers, right?” I poked Cooper in the ribs. He jerked, but it finally got him moving again.

“How long are you here for?”

“We’re leaving the club after we eat. But if things go well, I might be in Toronto frequently. I should ask about a membership of my own.”

Finally Cooper smirked, and it felt like he was back. “I hear there’s a long waiting list.”

Winthrop narrowed his eyes. “How long were you on the list?”

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