“How could I possibly forget? But you know as well as I do that hot should count against him. The hottest people are usually the worst in bed because they think they’ve already done their part just by showing up and being hot. ‘Who needs foreplay when I’ve got abs, baby?’”
“Fair.” She tucked my whip into her bag before I snatched it back from her and returned it to the closet. “But he could be an exception.”
“Not worth it to find out. I just want to get through this month with my reputation intact, be out from under my loans for good, and move on without that kind of complication.”
Alex pulledup outside my place in a black Range Rover at precisely 7 p.m. Ophelia insisted upon coming out to the car with me, giving him a friendly smile after he opened the door for me. I heard her murmur, “You take care of my girl or I’ll wear your testicles on a necklace.” She added brightly, “Just kidding! She’ll do the honors herself if you cross her.”
He laughed and waved as we pulled away.
Alex glanced at me as he maneuvered through traffic. “You ready for this?”
He smiled. Because he seemed to be incapable of not smiling ever. And I didn’t. Because I wanted to prove I could resist his charms. If he wanted a smile from me he could earn it.
“Yes, I’m ready. It’s just fame. If you can handle it, how hard can it be?”
He smirked, but we drove in silence charged with expectation until he pulled up at the valet. The building we’d stopped in front of was massive. The signs and posters everywhere featured people with golf clubs and it looked more like an adult Chuck-E-Cheese than the chic Hollywood bar I’d been picturing.
I saw recognition on each person’s face as they realized there was an A-lister in their midst. If Alex noticed, he didn’t react, tossing his keys to the valet and giving me a hand from the car.
From somewhere across the courtyard, a feminine voice shouted, “Flog me, Mistress!”
A guy yelled, “Unf. Step. On. Me.Mistress.”
Before I could even zero in on who had yelled, Alex whipped around, looking for all the world like he was about to fight someone. I stroked his bicep and said, “That’s not the kind of press you need right now. ‘Step on me’ is an internet compliment and it’s fine. It’s a TikTok thing about me. I need to get used to it.”
He looked unconvinced, so I added, “I’ve just realized there’s a flaw in our plan. People are going to think you’re submissive because they assume I’m dominant and that doesn’t jive with Steel. Time to show me what you’ve been learning. Wrap my hair around your fist possessively.”
He did as he was told, twisting my ponytail around his huge fist and tugging so my chin was tilted up toward him. He could’ve claimed a kiss if he’d wanted, but instead he just held my gaze with a charged look and then slid his hand to my lower back to guide me inside. I was sure a few people had caught it on cell phones and he’d been beautifully dominant.
“Why Level Golf?” I asked Alex, trying to sound casual. I was slowly beginning to realize there was literal golf happening there.
As an employee escorted us into the building, I could see it was like a giant driving range, but with many levels stacked atop each other. Our schedule from Asha had simply said, “Drinks at Level Golf.” I assumed it was a bar and it hadn’t occurred to me to look it up. What more did I need to know about a bar?
“It’s become the place to see and be seen for people in the biz. The bar is a hotbed of Hollywood types wheeling and dealing. I’m sure Rami is down there in the thick of it.”
I was relieved to hear I hadn’t been mistaken and started to prepare myself for the inevitable small talk and schmoozing. Instead, we took an elevator up and emerged into what was essentially a large private patio, complete with swank leather seats and a private bar, though it was totally empty once the guy took our drink orders and disappeared. It opened out onto the giant green where I assumed we were supposed to hit golf balls. There were balls appearing from the levels under us, flying out towards targets and holes that made no sense to me.
“I thought the point was to be seen?” I looked around pointedly at the empty space.
He gently guided me closer to the edge of the opening, showing me that once we were in the seating area or at the tee, we were in full view of the huge glass windows of the bar on the far side of the green. They were tinted so I couldn’t make out people within.
“We don’t need to see to be seen. Up here we at least have the illusion of privacy. Asha’s photographer is down there.”
The guy reappeared with our drinks and we took a seat far enough from the edge that we were back out of sight.
He sipped his dark beer. “I thought you didn’t drink when you were working?”
I toasted him with my Malbec. “I need a drink if I’m expected to hit golf balls in front of an audience.”
“Lady Elena Who Has No Weaknesses doesn’t know how to hit a golf ball? I thought hitting things was basically your job?”
“Allow me to demonstrate how good I am at hitting balls…” I reached for a club, glancing significantly at his crotch.
“Hell no, my lady!” He grinned at me cheekily, setting his beer down before jumping up and grabbing a club.
“Allow me…” He placed a ball on the tee and aligned his body with it. He bent his knees and wiggled back and forth a few times before drawing the club back and swinging with precision, smacking the ball with a satisfying thwack. We watched it fly out onto the green and roll into the hole at the center of one of the colorful targets.
A screen above us flashed with graphics and registered a score next to the column with an “A.” This ridiculous hipster game was some kind of cross between bowling, golf, and darts. None of these were things I excelled at.
