We exchange numbers and part ways. As I head off to see what Holland and his agent need from me, I replay the past five minutes, and I don’t know what to make of any of it.
I don’t have an exclusivity clause in my contract with Holland. Sure, he’s been my only client for the past year and a half. He pays me well, and he’s been winning, which means more bonuses for me. It’s been a lucrative gig. Still, there’s nothing stopping me from taking on other golfers and working them into my coaching schedule.
So why was there a hint of betrayal in Holland’s gaze?
2
Most Eligible Mister
Holland
I’m the first one into the room Noah commandeered for the meeting with the producers ofMost Eligible Mister. He’s somewhere else on the grounds, corralling the network higher-ups ahead of this impromptu contract negotiation.
I stride to the window that looks out over the golf course where I just notched my sixth PGO tour victory. I should be feeling on top of the world right now. I’m at the top of my game professionally. I’m about an hour away from finalizing details for a lucrative deal wherein I’ll be the star in a reality TV dating show. All cylinders are firing in my favor.
So why do I feel…off?
“What’s this meeting about?”
I spin around. Mallory is standing with her hands on her hips. She’s still wearing her cap, and the brim of it shades her eyes so I can’t see her glowering at me. I can picture it, though. No one glowers like Mallory.
Maybe that’s why I feel off. I haven’t told her about theMost Eligible Misteropportunity. I was going to…countless times. But every time I started to, I chickened out. I know for a fact she’s going to hate it. She’s going to think I’m foolish and that I’m being reckless with the work we’ve put in to get me to the top of my game. That this entire thing is a distraction I can’t afford. I haven’t wanted to face her ire, so I took the coward’s way out…I’m waiting to spring the news on her until my agent and the TV people are here to serve as a buffer. She won’t lay into me when the people behind it are in the room, right?
Then again, Mallory might—or at least the Mallory that shows up at my practices. The fiery, take-no-crap-from-me Mallory.
The other Mallory—the one who is so stoic it seems like it might physically hurt…the one who shows up in public—wouldn’t dare.
I stare at her, wondering which side of Mallory I’ll see. I refuse to acknowledge—to myself or anyone else—that another reason I haven’t told her aboutMost Eligible Misteris because there is a not-so-tiny part of me that has a massive crush on my coach. But I will die before I admit that out loud. Still, the thought of dating twenty other women when the one woman I’ve had a thing for for the past year looks on isn’t exactly how I would have drawn this up. But beggars can’t be choosers. There’s no way I’ll ever be good enough for a woman like Mallory Walsh, and starring onMost Eligible Misterfelt like a good way to meet someone new—someone else I can gel with and hopefully live happily ever after with—all while getting rid of the pesky romantic fantasies I’ve had about my coach.
“Hello? Bradley?” she prompts. “What’s going on?”
I blink and then grin, because my default with this infuriatingly addicting woman is to pester her relentlessly. “I think you’re forgetting something.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you mean to say, ‘Holland, congrats on the win. You looked amazing out there today. I’m so proud of you.’”
Mallory takes a step around me. “Nope. Not at all.”
“You’re not proud of me?” I cover my heart. “I’m wounded.”
“Pretty sure you’ll survive,” she mutters dryly.
“I don’t know. How am I ever supposed to perform under pressure again if I don’t have the full backing of my coach?”
“I think you’ll manage just fine.”
“Don’t you like when I win? Whenwewin?”
Mallory narrows her eyes. “Of course I do. But your ego is big enough without any praise from me.”
“What if I told you your praise is the most important to me? That it’s what I’m out there giving it my all for? That nothing else matters to me but making you proud?” I wag my brows to hide the actual truth behind my words. I care about having Mallory’s respect more than I want to admit. Seeing her being courted—for lack of a better word—by Andy Mason didn’t sit well with me. She’s my secret weapon.
“I’d tell you to quit talking like a sausage.”
“Who’s a sausage?” Noah strides into the room, followed by a woman who I assume is Vivian Dell, the executive producer ofMost Eligible Mister, and Steve, my caddie.
“Mallory and I were just discussing…meats.” I shoot her a grin. “And her favorite varieties of sausages.”
