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I choose to change the subject, unable to wrap my head around the fact that Brendan is trustworthy. "So, where do we work?"

"Oh, you poor girl. Your people are truly cruel to you, aren't they?"

I don't respond, because I didn't think Niall was ... until yesterday.

"The Kingston Country Club." Ashton turns down a path lined with tall sea grass. I make mental note. "I'm not sure where we'll be assigned, but hopefully we'll be on the course today."

"On the golf course?" I'm suddenly afraid they're making me caddy for the summer, lugging golf bags that are as big as I am. "Are you sure?"

She grins. "That's where the fun is."

An hour and a half later, we exit the black shuttle that's more like an oversized limousine than a bus. The drive felt like it would never end as we passed endless tree after tree, with a farmhouse and field thrown in to break it up every so often.

I follow Ashton around the side of the country club to the employee entrance. This country club is set up differently than the one we trespassed on in Oaklawn. The course is sprawled out behind the Clubhouse, with a scenic view of rolling hills and vibrant green trees. I'm convinced there isn't much else to Vermont. The Clubhouse is constructed to look like a massive house with yellow shingles. It has a giant wrap around porch and a turret on one corner. I don't see much of it before going inside.

"There are two employee entrances," Ashton explains. "This is the Greens entrance, and on the other side of the building is the event entrance. Depends on where you're scheduled to work. The Greens is the casual restaurant where the members who play golf and tennis hangout. Sometimes, families eat in there too, but they usually eat at The Deck by the pool."

We walk down a hall, passing employees dressed in khakis, polo shirts and white sneakers. The sneakers were the only thing I was told to bring. I'm hoping my experience will convince them to schedule me as a waitress, and not with the grounds crew or anything that has to do with golf. I can barely play mini-golf, forget about actual golf.

I follow Ashton into an office with "Club Manager" displayed in gold letters on the door.

A man in a suit sits behind a desk. The office isn't much bigger than the dark wooden desk and the chairs in front of it.

"Hi Cary," Ashton says, gaining his attention.

"Ashton!" Cary greets warmly from behind wire-rimmed glasses and a friendly smile. "This must be Lana." He stands and comes out from behind his desk to shake my hand. "Nice to have you with us."

"Thanks," I say without nearly as much enthusiasm.

"Ashton is going to take you to the uniform closet and have you pick out a uniform for each department."

"Formal too?" Ashton questions in surprise.

"Yes please," Cary confirms. "Lana will be training for fine dining come the winter."

I exhale in relief. I can tell from Ashton's pained face formal dining is far from her favorite thing, but it has to be better than dragging around golf bags--or mowing the grass.

"Once you've changed, give her a quick tour. The two of you will be on the bev cart for the day, so make sure you're out on the course by eleven. Lana, I'll need you to fill out paperwork at the end of the shift."

This brings a shine to Ashton's eyes. "Let's go." She takes a key from Cary and leads me to a door halfway down the hall. "Pick out a uniform from here, here, here and here." She points to different shelves. "Wear this one today." Indicating the shelves with the khakis and polo shirts. "Depending on your schedule, you may need more than one. But we'll figure that out later. I'm going to bring the key back to Cary and then I'll show you where we clock in and change."

I sort through the sizes and hold up the different uniforms, to be sure they'll fit. I meet Ashton in the hall with a stack of clothes. Since I can't clock in without my assigned employee ID, Ashton just points to the computer terminal before taking me to the locker room to change.

The tour is a blur of faces and names that will take me the entire six months to remember, and that's just the employees. Forget about the members Ashton greets by name ... mostly old men in some sort of hideous golf attire.

On our way to the Clubhouse, we pass the tennis courts. I barely glance at them when she mentions them because they have nothin

g to do with any of my jobs.

"Lana!"

I almost trip and fall on my ass spinning around at the sound of my name being called from somewhere near the tennis courts.

"Shit," I breathe when I see who it is.

Parker Harrison jogs toward us, wearing white shorts and a fitted navy sports shirt. Following at a distance carrying two tennis rackets is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. And considering I'm standing next to Ashton, that's saying a lot. I curse the pang of jealousy that jolts through my stomach.

"Parker," I greet him coolly, ignoring the rush I experience at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?"

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