Page 14 of Do It With Me

6

HOLDEN

My little white ball soared across the driving range, a perfect line against the gray, early evening sky. I watched it land with a satisfying thwack on the far turf and smirked. “And that’s how it’s done.”

Jimmy whistled low between his teeth, hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the last bit of glare from the sun. “Show-off.”

I shrugged a shoulder and lined up another shot, breathing in the fresh air of the range and feeling good. It was freezing out here, but I enjoyed it. Mostly unobstructed skies. Green grass stretching as far as the eye could see no matter the time of year.

“Don’t hate me because I’m consistent,” I said a moment before I swung.

Jimmy snorted but once again watched my ball soar like it’d grown wings. “You’re not consistent. You’re obsessive.”

“Let’s not get hung up on the semantics of it all. Just tell me it was a good shot and let’s move on. I’ll even help you tighten up your own swing if you’ll let me.”

He grimaced. “I’d rather quit golf altogether.”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen, surprised when I saw a text from her.

Ellora.

The girl who’d been occupying way too much of my mental real estate recently. I actually fucking smiled when I read it.

Thank God.

Jimmy caught it immediately. “What’s that smile all about? Did one of your enemies die or something?”

“Better.” I slipped the phone back into my pocket. “I’m happy to report that I took your advice and found myself a date for the wedding.”

He paused mid-swing and looked over at me, eyebrows shooting up high. “You found a what? Where? Who is she?”

Knowing he was going to turn this into a bigger deal than it was, I tried to get ahead of it. “I’m paying one of my students to pretend to be my girlfriend for a night.”

“Are you serious?” He stared at me, blinking hard before he shook his head. “You are serious, aren’t you?”

“I am. You told me that I needed a date and I agreed, so I went out and found myself one. We really don’t have to turn this into a thing. It’s not a thing. It’s nothing. A mutually beneficial arrangement at most.”

“Fucking billionaires,” he muttered. “You’re always doing weird shit.”

“It’s not weird,” I said as I adjusted my grip on my club. “It’s efficient.”

He barked out a laugh but shook his head so hard that he managed to ruffle his unrufflable dark hair. The guy used hair gel liberally and frequently, but apparently, this had been enough to make even the hair gel unable to keep him looking slick and unflappable.

“Efficient. Right. God forbid, you just ask someone out. You know, like a normal person might. You’re really paying someone to be your date?”

“I didn’t want to risk a real date getting the wrong idea. This way, it’s a clean transaction. No expectations and no drama.”

I swung again and the ball hooked left. Damn. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s usually unflappable, but is very much flapped right now.

Jimmy smirked. He watched my ball go wide before he brought his deep brown, all-seeing eyes back to mine. “You think money can solve all your problems.”

“That’s because it does.”

He chuckled. “You can’t buy love, my friend.”

I looked at him over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes into a glare that meant business. “Who the fuck said anything about love? I just need a date, so I bought myself one. Back off with that other shit. I’m serious.”

He shook his head—again—and laughed under his breath. Asshole. When I’d first met him, he’d been terrified of me, just as intimidated as he should’ve been. It looked like the effect had long since worn off, though.