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Dru-Ann suddenly feels like her ass is fusing with the buttery leather of her car seat. She can’t move, and yet apparently her hands are on a different circuit, because they begin to shake. She holds a trembling finger over the screen. Should she read what people are saying? She has dealt with clients who were in this situation, most notably Tania Oaks, an Olympic champion equestrienne who was caught on video—on her way home from the Games,with the gold medal around her neck—calling the flight attendant a “basic bitch.” That video went viral. Dru-Ann had helped Tania handle the ensuing media frenzy by taking away her phone so she didn’t make things worse.

Follow your own counsel,Dru-Ann tells herself.Don’t look.

But this is different. This is me. And I wasn’t wrong. The people who are #TeamPosey don’t know the details. If they did, they would be #TeamDruAnn!

Dru-Ann wishes she could explain what actually happened.

It’s Friday evening. Dru-Ann, her client Posey Wofford, and Posey’s father, Nick Wofford—who is Dru-Ann’s boyfriend and maybe the long-awaited love of her life—are at a restaurant called Whine, which isn’t far from the country club in Midland, Michigan. The three of them are celebrating the fact that Posey leads by four strokes in the Dow Great Lakes Bay Invitational going into the final round.

They order cocktails—Dru-Ann a Casamigos over ice, Nick a martini, Posey a Pellegrino with a splash of cran. Dru-Ann peruses the menu; the Yelp reviews of this place were decent. Their drinks arrive and they raise their glasses.

Posey says, “I can’t stay for dinner. I have a Lyft coming in twenty minutes to take me to Detroit. I’m flying to Edinburgh tonight.”

Nick laughs. Dru-Ann is tempted to join in but she senses that Posey might not be kidding. Dru-Ann takes a measured sip of tequila and waits.

“Phineas just found out he made the open,” Posey says. “And as you know, they’re playing the Old Lady this year. He had a dream he was going to win. I have to be there.”

Dru-Ann looks at Nick; his reaction can best be described asAt a loss for words.But Nick won’t tell his daughter no. Nick never tells her no. That job always falls to Dru-Ann. This is how she earns her money: by saving her clients from themselves.

“No,” Dru-Ann says.

“Yes,” Posey says, flicking her ponytail off her shoulder with defiance. “It’s theBritish Open.AtSt. Andrews.”

Dru-Ann takes another sip of tequila and considers her next move. She can’t downplay the prestige or mystique of the British Open. The tournament, when it’s played at the “R and A,” the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews, is Dru-Ann’s secret favorite. (It has to be secret because how can she, as a Black woman, revere a club with “ancient” membership rules? They didn’t allow women to join until September of 2014 and they still don’t let women change inside the main clubhouse.) Phineas is presently ranked number 127 in the world. Dru-Ann can’t believe he’s playing in the open at all; this is very big news.

Neither can Dru-Ann diminish Posey and Phineas’s relationship. They’ve been together since their first week at IMG. They’ve withstood the challenges of a long-distance relationship and the pressures of tournament life—qualifying, rankings, a brutal travel schedule. Someday, Dru-Ann knows, they’ll get married and Posey will give birth to Dru-Ann’s next generation of clients.

Dru-Ann’s best strategy is to focus on Posey herself. “You’re in the lead by four strokes,” she says. “You’ve been owning the course. Bella is in her head; she won’t beat you and she’s your only real competition. You’re going to win this tournament, Posey.”

Posey smiles at Dru-Ann. “I don’t care.”

“You don’t care about winning a tournament on the LPGA tour?” Dru-Ann says. “Isn’t this what you’ve been dreaming about since Q-school?”

Posey shrugs. “It’s the Dow. We’re in central Michigan. It’s not”—she pauses—“the same thing.”

Nick stares at the round surface of his martini like he’s considering doing a cannonball into it. Dru-Ann kicks him under the table but he pretends not to notice. Can she love a man who has a blind spot the exact size and shape of his youngest child?

“How are you going to explain this to your sponsors?” Dru-Ann asks. “Ping? Lululemon golf? Theyinvestedin you.”

“I’m going to tell them it’s a mental-health issue,” Posey says. “Obviously.”

“A mental-healthissue?” Dru-Ann knows her voice is loud enough to draw the attention of guests at surrounding tables, but she doesn’t care. “Are youkiddingme right now? You can’t just trot out that excuse at will, Posey. It cheapens the suffering of athletes who have legitimate mental-health issues, like Biles and Osaka and the countless women we don’t even know about.”

“What I’m telling you is that I won’t be able to focus tomorrow. If you and Dad insist on making me stay to play the final round, I’ll be distracted thinking about Phineas. I’ll regret not going. I’ll wish I were there.”

“Right, sure,” Dru-Ann says, reining her emotions in.Here,she thinks,is a teachable moment.“But being distracted and wishing you were somewhere else isn’t a mental-health issue. Mentally healthy people feel this way all the time, Posey. Like when the Drake concert is the same night as a can’t-miss client dinner.” She searches Posey’s face for a sign of understanding. Did that example land? “You can easily play eighteen holes tomorrow and then go.”

Posey checks her phone and stands up. “My Lyft is twelve minutes away. I’m going to the hotel to get my bags.” She looks at Nick. “You’ll take my clubs back to Chicago?”

“Posey,” Nick says in a tone that is part admonishing, part disappointed. But nothing follows. When Posey bends over to kiss her father’s forehead, he closes his eyes in defeat. “Wish Phineas good luck from us.”

Dru-Ann can’t believe this. Nick is as soft as a shoe full of shit.

Posey leaves Whine without so much as another look at Dru-Ann—Coward!—which prompts Dru-Ann to call after her, “Quitter!”

This, she assumes, is what motivates some nosy ass-clown at a neighboring table to whip out his phone and start filming. He captures Dru-Ann’s unfiltered rage as she rails at Nick. “I can’t believe you didn’t stand up to her. She’s leaving, Nick. She’s flying to Scotland. She’s going to tell everyone it’s a ‘mental-health issue’”—Dru-Ann uses air quotes—“when she needs tosuck it up and play through!”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com