Page 40 of Relentless (The Titans of Founder's Ridge 2)

I’m not an idiot. He’s going to win. He always wins when we play golf. I scratch my chin and think about it.

“How about this, if I win, you start working at the bank this summer instead of next. I’ll make sure you have plenty of time to enjoy your summer, too, but you really do need to start showing your face in the office. It’s going to be yours someday.”

I had a feeling this was coming. It won’t be that bad to spend the summer in NYC, I know that Con is already spending one or two days a month with his dad and Griff will likely start working alongside his family, too.

“Okay, but if I win, I get two weeks on a yacht in the south Pacific with my friends after graduation.”

“Done,” he offers his hand, and we shake on it.

I let him tee off first. He’s got the swing of a professional golfer, and the ball makes a graceful arc straight over the fairway landing about eight feet from the hole. I set my ball down and do a little test swing. I don’t golf a whole lot, but there is something so satisfying about your driver making contact with the ball for the first time, that little noise it makes, and then the silence of the course. My ball ends up about four feet to the right of my dad’s ball. He sinks his putt in one; it takes me two tries.

“I was trying to remember the other day, when did you meet Jennifer?” I toss the question out as casually as possible on the way to the second hole.

“We met in November, right before the election. She was at a last-minute fundraiser here at the clubhouse, actually.” He sounds surprised, thoughtful.

“Huh, that’s weird isn’t it? I mean, she’s from Connecticut but was here in Founder’s Ridge for a fundraiser.” Also, whose money was she using to get a seat at an event like that? She definitely doesn’t have ten grand lying around to throw at thirsty politicians.

“Yeah, she was there with a friend as a plus one,” he parks the cart and pulls out his driver. I follow behind.

“That makes sense,” I nod. “Someone from around here?”

“I don’t know,” he looks at me appraisingly, “why?”

“Just curious is all.” At least now I have a bit of information to give to Griff. I’m sure he can find the guest list for that party. I’m meeting with him and Con for dinner tonight. The latter will be giving me explicit instruction for how to treat his girlfriend, who I’m taking to Homecoming as my date.

“I was thinking about offering an internship to Ivy this summer,” Dad says, breaking me from my train of thoughts.

“Oh yeah? She’d kick ass at any task given to her,” I respond.

“You two have gotten closer this year, since her boyfriend moved back to England.”

“We’ve always been close,” my tone is a little too sharp. “But, yeah, she spent a lot of time with Oliver last year.”

“Do you know what her plans are for the summer? Does she have something going on with Parker?”

“I’m not sure. She hasn’t mentioned anything yet.” I doubt she’ll be training with any Olympic swimmers this summer, but I don’t know if she’s had that conversation with her father yet. I’m not about to tell anyone her feelings if she’s not ready. “She’d stay at the penthouse in the city with us?”

“Most likely, unless Parker has an apartment in the city.”

“He doesn’t.” He’s lived in the same house Ivy’s entire life, even after the divorce.

Dad nods and looks around. We’re parked next to a water feature, a pond with a fountain spraying up from the far side. The eighth hole is surrounded by the pond and juts out into the middle on a peninsula. I’ve never kept my ball out of the water on this hole. Dad’s ball drops right on the green, halfway between the edge and the hole. Mine goes wide and right into the pond.

“You’ll get it someday,” his hand clasps my shoulder and gives me a little shove. “You’ve got a good swing for someone who golfs so infrequently.”

“Yeah, this hole is a beast anyway.”

We spend the rest of the morning enjoying the peace of an empty course. The sun has yet to burn through the fog, so it’s like looking at the world through a high-contrast lens. The grass is still a verdant green. The bark of the trees is damp, so it looks dark. The trees have turned later than usual, so they’re at peak right now, bright yellows, reds, and orange. All with the gray mist hanging heavy in the still air.

Dad corrects my form here and there but ends up beating me with a score of nine under par. He runs into some guys he knows and asks if I mind him staying behind to have a few beers with them. I call Griff to come pick me up.

He pulls up twenty minutes later and pops the trunk for my clubs. I slide into the passenger seat.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem. I actually just found out some pertinent information regarding Jennifer and your letters.” He pulls out onto the highway. “She requested that the Headmistress at Ivy’s school filter all her all mail at the beginning of her freshman year. The only thing she wanted were letters to or from you.”

“Me?” I look over at him with raised eyebrows. “Me, specifically?” I ask for clarification.

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