Page 53 of Playmaker

Cooper shrugged. “I didn’t go on a list.”

“Because?”

A big smile, showing white teeth and dimples. Actually, more of a grimace. “Lots of hockey fans in the club.”

Winthrop’s mouth pinched. “Maybe this isn’t my kind of place.”

“Maybe not. It would be terrible if someone blackballed your application.”

Winthrop drew in a sharp breath. Cooper had won a point in whatever the fuck battle they had going on. “Apparently this place has run downhill lately.”

“Be sure to tell the PGA that. They’ll probably move their event from here.”

“I won’t keep you.” I got a glance again but was dismissed. “I’m sure you’re…busy.”

“Yes, more…I mean, important things to do.”

“I’ll tell Pierce I saw you.”

“That will make his day.”

Winthrop stalked toward the dining room. He joined a group of similar, well-dressed, well-maintained, douchy-looking men.

Cooper stared at the wall, as if he’d forgotten I was there. I could give him time to deal with whatever that had been, since I didn’t particularly want to eat in the same room as Winthrop. After a few minutes, though, it was getting awkward.

“Did his parents really name him Remington Winthrop?”

That brought Cooper back to the here and now. “They did.”

“Were they determined to raise an asshole?”

A laugh escaped him that he quickly reined in. “My name is Whittaker. Whittaker Zane Cooper.”

“I thought Calliope was bad.”

He shrugged. “Dining room?”

“Would you mind if we didn’t?”

Now I had his full attention. “Is something wrong? Are you tired?”

“I’m always tired after marching around in the sun for the afternoon, but nothing special. I just don’t want Remington staring at my chest while I eat.”

“Should I speak to him?”

“Like it would change anything?”

That faraway look hit his face again. “Not at all.”

“Then let’s go. I think I’ve had my quota of pretentious for the day. At least at work I’m paid for it.”

Cooper stalked to the valet, and I had to hustle to keep up with him. Something had upset his deeply ingrained manners, and that something was called Winthrop.

He didn’t speak as the young man brought the Bentley around. They put the clubs in the trunk, and I waited patiently as the valet opened my door. Sliding into the comfortable seat was familiar.Probably best not to get too accustomed.

We drove in silence for ten minutes before Cooper realized he was ignoring me.

He turned and gave me his polite, public smile. “Sorry, I was lost in thought there. Did you have any questions after today’s round?”

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