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Tess pauses her fake bashing of Palmer’s head to pump her fist in the air behind him.
“Birdie, seriously, I—”
“No, you seriously need to get it through your head that I don’t give a shit!” I shout, pretty much negating the whole I don’t give a shit thing, but whatever. “I have a job to do, and standing around arguing with you is not part of it.”
“Then stop arguing with me.”
He smirks. Freaking smirks. Who is this man? Palmer doesn’t smirk. He smiles politely and looks away. Since when did he get confidence?
Probably around the same time he got more muscles and tossed all his shit in a water hazard in Bermuda.
“I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right,” Palmer says, all seriousness again as he stands up straighter and clears his throat. “I realize you’re a very busy woman and you have a job to do, so let me help you get started with that. Probably wouldn’t be wise for us to get off on the wrong foot. Let’s start over.”
I look at Palmer with what I’m assuming is the same WTF that’s on Tess’s face as she leans out from behind the guy and stares up at him.
“It’s a pleasure to be back at SIG. The name’s Palmer Campbell, but most people here call me Putz.”
Tess snorts from behind him as Palmer leans his putter against a display of golf balls, slides both his hands into the front pockets of his pants, and I watch a slow, mischievous smile spread across his face.
“And it looks like I’m your new golf pro. Where do you want me, boss?”CHAPTER 6Palmer
“Go long or go home.”“Hell no, she won’t go! Hell no, she won’t go!”
It’s getting harder and harder to ignore Tess’s incessant shouting behind me, but I power through and keep my focus on Birdie standing a few feet in front of me by the pro shop counter. All the blood drained from her face as soon as I told her I’d be working with her at SIG. Under normal circumstances, it would be funny and I’d consider it payback. I’ve been feeling faint ever since I walked into the bar to look for Birdie and heard her say, “Putz’s cock and balls.” I have no idea what she and Tess were talking about before I got there, and I don’t care, because it probably had something to do with sawing them off with a rusty butter knife. Birdie’s sexy, raspy voice saying those words have immediately been deposited into my spank bank, even with her use of that insulting nickname. But she’s been so quiet and so pale for so long that now I’m starting to worry she might not be getting enough oxygen to her brain.
“Hell no, she won’t go! Hell no, she won’t go!”
I knew getting Birdie to talk to me was going to be difficult and that even getting a job on the course wouldn’t guarantee me any alone time with her. Considering she’s now run from me twice, chasing her around 175 acres day-in and day-out didn’t seem like the most productive way to get Birdie to forgive me. And with a rabid best friend like Tess who will do anything to protect Birdie, I needed a better plan than chasing her.
When I met with Greg first thing this morning and he told me Birdie was going to be the answer to all my public image problem prayers, she would be my boss for a few weeks until the golf pro he actually hired could get into town, and she’d have to talk to me every day I was on the schedule, it was like the karma gods were smiling down on me saying, “We forgive you for being a pussy, acting like a big baby, and hurting your best friend. Go forth and conquer!” She can’t continue running away from me, and she definitely can’t ignore me when we have to work together.
All of a sudden, Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” starts playing as soon as Tess stops chanting.
“Will you turn that shit off?” Birdie yells at Tess over the music before I can, which makes me smile at the beautifully annoyed blonde in front of me as the song cuts off.
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Birdie orders, pointing her finger at me. “I’m not sticking up for you; I just really hate that song. They should have put it to something like ‘Big Girls Don’t Cry.’”
Ouch. That stings.
And it turns me on. Something Birdie’s always been able to do when she gives me attitude. I just never knew how hot it could be to give it right back. I should have embarrassed myself on national television and come out of my shell years ago.
“It has been a trying couple weeks for me.” I nod seriously, pulling my hands out of my pockets and holding them open between us. “I could use a hug before we get to work, boss.”
