I nod, assessing her as best I can through the phone. “If you’re sure. You know I’m going to be your biggest champion. I could write a killer letter of recommendation if you needed me to.”
She rolls her eyes again but then turns thoughtful. “That being said, I still feel weird about getting into my feelings and deep stuff in front of the camera. I don’t like the thought of the whole world having a lens into the start of…of…whatever it is we’re doing here.”
“You mean falling madly in love?” I deadpan.
Mallory shakes her head. “No one said anything about love.”
“I know. I’m messing with you.” I smile, but as I stare at her, I know I’m falling head over heels for this woman who is thoughtful and poised and spicy and strong and doesn’t take any of my crap. “How about this? When the cameras are rolling, we’ll keep things surface level, but honest. We can talk about golf and coaching.We can talk about our families, that sort of thing. But we’ll save the nitty gritty for when I get you alone.”
I flash her a smile, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“When do you think that’s going to be? I refuse to let you turn our golf practices into dates, Bradley. I’m still your coach, and I won’t sacrifice your career for our relationship.”
This is what I love about her.
“I wasn’t suggesting that we slack off at our practices. I’m going to take you out on a real date. No cameras. No producers. No other women.”
Mallory arches her eyebrows. “How are you going to pull that off?”
“You leave it to me. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be as smitten with me as I am with you.”
“Can we add smitten to thedo not uselist of words?“ She makes another face.
I shake my head slowly. “No way. You’re going to be my little smitten kitten. Just you wait.”
“Ugh. I’m hanging up now. Goodbye!”
“See you soon, tiger.”
30
Ready or Not
Mallory
Icheck my reflection in the mirror above the dresser for the fifteenth time. “You’re being ridiculous,” I tell myself. This is Holland. The same Holland who I’ve seen practically every day for the past two years. I shouldn’t be worried about how I look to him. Not after he all but told me he was ready to go all in with me.
Yet, here I am. Self-conscious. Afraid he’s going to realize that every one of the other women here is more beautiful than I am.
I glance down at my cropped jeans and platform sneakers. I’m wearing a fitted black top with a V-neckline. I’ve got my hair up and dangling earrings in. They’re bolder than I usually wear, but I’m feeling fancy, so I went for oversized gold hoops. I’ve also got on my trusty bomber jacket. It’s black faux leather and makes me feel like I have my life together. Idohave my life together. I smooth back my power ponytail and give myself a pep talk about how I shouldn’t compare myself to others and that I need to be who I’m meant to be and be that well.
Actually, it sounds a lot like my mom’s voice in my head. I blow out a full breath. Okay. I can do this. I’m going to be myself. I’m going to be honest but still keep it vague…at least until Holland and I have some off-camera time.
Oh gosh, that sounds promiscuous. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
“It’s just a date,” I say to my reflection. “Not a blood vow.”
But when was the last time I went on a date?
A knock sounds on my door. Glancing in the mirror one last time, I move to open it, expecting a camera crew and some of the other women. But there’s no one there. I glance into the empty hallway and frown. I swear I heard a knock.
It sounds again, and I whirl around. It’s coming from the back entrance.
I hurry across the room and swing the door inward. Daisy is standing at the top of the secret staircase.
“Hello, Mallory. May I come in for a moment?”
“Uh, of course.” I peek into the stairway after she shuffles into the room. She’s wearing an oversized hooded sweatshirt and faded blue jeans.
