Page 19 of Bad for Business
“Why don’t you give it a try?”
I frown, my gaze moving to where Ryker stands on the green, having a conversation with two of his friends. “Give golf a try?” I ask, looking back at Jude.
He smiles and nods. “Yeah. If you’re going to be stuck babysitting Ryker for the summer, I bet a lot of your time is going to be spent on the course. You could learn to golf and show all of us up.”
I can’t help but laugh at his words. “I’ve golfed here and there. I’m not terrible, but I don’t enjoy it. And I’m not naive enough to think that I’d beat any of you in a round of golf. I’d put money that at least one of you was on the golf team at boarding school. And even if none of you were, you grew up on courses.I won’t win, and I don’t like playing games I have no chance of winning.”
Jude gives me a wolfish grin. “Competitive. I like it.”
I roll my eyes. He’s a flirt, but it doesn’t bother me as much as it typically would. I have zero interest in the guy, but something about him is likable. If I’m going to be stuck with these men for the foreseeable future, it’d be nice to have an ally in him.
“Yes. But not interested in competing with anyone in the group today. I’m a sore loser.”
“Did you know Preston Rhodes, right there, used to be the quarterback for the Manhattan Mambas?”
“I’m well aware,” I respond, eyes following the direction he’s pointing. “I’m a publicist, remember? I know Preston Rhodes. He’s had quite the last couple of years.”
Jude nods, the smile never leaving his lips. Preston is now retired, but in his final year, he won the Super Bowl and then took his relationship public with an influencer named Emma Turner. There was a period of time when you couldn’t open up any of the typical media sites without seeing their pictures plastered all over them.
“Well, Preston was also on the golf team at boarding school. So was Archer Moore. Preston quit to focus on football, but he does win most of the time.”
I look at the small group of men out on the course. Ryker is busy lining up a shot, while behind him, Preston talks to Archer Moore—another member at the club who has more money than I could ever imagine. I’ve met Archer and his wife, Winnie, a few different times, and they’re both incredibly kind, but I don’t know a lot about them. They prefer to stay out of the media as much as possible.
“And what about you?” I ask, focusing back on Jude. “Are you any good at golf?”
His entire face lights up with the question. “I’m not too bad. Need me to teach you?”
I roll my eyes and focus back on my phone. “I’m good.” I nod toward my left. “It’s your turn, isn’t it?”
He laughs. “So you are paying attention.”
“Just because I don’t want to play doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention.” I point to where Ryker stands, talking to Archer. I can’t fully tell because he wears a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses, but I’m pretty sure he stares right at me and Jude. “It’s my job to keep a close eye on him, remember?”
Jude snickers before sliding back out of the seat. “Oh, I remember. And even if I didn’t, his complaining about you wouldn’t let me forget.”
Before I can respond, Jude saunters away. As he lines up his shot, he looks at me over his shoulder, his grin only growing. “Watch how it’s done, Camille.”
I’m so focused on shaking my head at Jude that I don’t even notice Ryker has closed the distance between us. He steps in my line of sight, blocking my view of Jude.
“What were you and Jude talking about?” he asks.
I look up at him and cock my head to the side. I stare right back at my reflection in the lens of his sunglasses. “Excuse me?”
He hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “Jude was just over here. What were you talking about?”
“Why does it matter?”
He clears his throat and scrapes a hand over his mouth. “It doesn’t. I’m just making sure you aren’t telling him anything you shouldn’t.”
I can’t help but laugh. He can’t be serious. “He asked if I wanted to golf. I told him no.” I make a shooing motion with my hand. “Now, leave me alone and get back to golfing. You were insistent on seeing your friends. Go see them.”
“Next time, I’m golfing alone. You’re annoying me.” He grabs onto the top of the golf cart and leans in, waiting for me to answer.
“No, you’re not. Don’t even try. Bye now.”
Ryker smiles before sliding into the seat of the golf cart. He gives no warning before pressing on the gas, sending my body jolting backward.
I can’t help but yelp as my shoulders hit the seat.
