Page 107 of Putting Out
He left them, and Kenny cursed. “Bastard. Sticking us in a damn bathroom stall. I’m surprised we didn’t get a closet. You think he knows it was you who broke the window?”
Reilly glanced at the door with the carved wheelchair sign on it.
“He knows. But it was still worth it. You’ve got my stuff?”
He handed over a duffel bag.
“I can step into my jumper out here,” Kenny said, extracting the white jumper with the name Carr on the back before she pulled the bag inside. “Hurry. We’ve got history to go make.”
* * *
Luke firedone off the tee and watched it turn left. Damn hook. He was notorious for it. Not having gone through the regimented practice process he needed to correct it, it was a pretty good bet he was going to be seeing it a lot this week. Reilly would have a field day mocking him.
“Nolan? Glad to see you back. For a while there you looked to be more comfortable in the booth.” Sinjin Rye took up a spot on the tee next to him with a bucket of balls in his hand.
Luke fired off another shot and watched it sail left. “I was more comfortable in the booth. But I wasn’t going to miss a chance to play. The whole lifetime guarantee is pretty sweet. You should try and get a jacket for yourself.”
“That’s the plan.”
“That and beating your girl, Nolan.” Frank Rivers took up the other tee next to Luke. “Did you see what she showed up in? Hell, if I’d known she was hot I would have told the PGA to re-rank her years ago.”
Luke said nothing but rolled another ball into position.
“It’s a joke she’s here,” Rye stated. “She’s going to embarrass herself as it is. Making a spectacle of herself is only going to make it worse.”
Luke shrugged and rolled another ball forward to hit. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
“Oh, come on, Luke!” Frank cried. “I know you’re close to the family, but seriously. A woman trying to compete with the men? It’s going to be worse than a joke. It’s going to be sad. I mean, what if she cries?”
“Sorry, Frank, I’m not much of a crier.”
Reilly stopped behind Luke. Kenny plopped down her clubs beside her and automatically pulled the driver for her.
Luke smirked. “Take my spot. I’m going to work on the putting green for a while.”
Reilly let him pass and rolled up a few balls on the grass. Rye stopped his play, picked up his bucket and deliberately moved a slot farther down the row from her. Reilly nodded and thought about what Odie had tried to drum into her head during the course of her training.
Don’t play the players, play the course. You can’t beat over a hundred men, but you can beat one course, one hole at a time.
His instructions made sense but there was at least one player she’d really like to beat.
Stretching out with the driver in her hands, Reilly decided she liked the snug fit of the top. The material was breathable but clung to her body in a way that didn’t interfere with her swing. But it wasn’t too tight she didn’t feel as if she could move. The pants were comfortable, too. Light but protective against the nip in the spring air. Pink was going to be her signature color for the week.
“See this, Reilly. This is what you can’t do.” Frank drew back and hit the ball, sending it flying.
He had an easy swing but it lacked power. He was in the top twenty overall ranking as a credit to his putting, but he had never broken the top five in a major. A good player, but not a great one.
She knew him from television, but he acted as if he had the right to make comments on her game. It was infuriating, but it was also nothing more than a small taste of what was to come.
“There you go. That was almost two-ninety and I barely put any heat on it. You can’t compete with that.”
Reilly stepped up to the tee, took one free swing, addressed the ball and smacked it. She still hadn’t gotten used to the change in speed and thrilled at the sight of the ball flying high and straight into the air, bouncing just past the three-hundred-yard marker.
“I don’t know, Frank,” she jawed. “I didn’t put much heat on mine, either, but wow, did you look at that ball fly? Big dog went hunting and found a rabbit on that one. Wait, maybe that was luck. I should try it again.”
Reilly let another rip, then another, then another. All exactly where she wanted the ball to go and all of them beyond the three-hundred-yard marker.
“Holy shit,” he mouthed as he stared out over the driving range following the line of each of her balls.
Fortunately, Reilly was an excellent mouth reader. “Guess I’m warmed up now. See you on the course.”
Reilly walked away from the tee with a smile and Kenny shook his head laughing at her.
“You’re going to shock them all.”
Reilly glanced back over her shoulder at Rye, who very noticeably refrained from commenting or even watching her hit the ball.
“I don’t want to shock them. I want to beat them. Let’s go.”
