Friends Like These

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Friends Like These Page 3

by Carina Taylor


  He closed the door, careful not to slam it. Now that I was in an enclosed space with him, he didn’t seem as severe as he did on the golf course. Serious, maybe, but not angry.

  He sat down in a large leather chair behind a mahogany desk. He steepled his fingers and pressed them against his lips. The large office grew infinitesimally smaller with his undivided attention focused on me.

  I don’t know why I followed him here. The only reason I could think of was curiosity. His fierceness had distracted me from a panic attack. When he stepped in front of the snake, I imagined it was to protect me from the gruesome sight. He’d probably been unaware of where he stood, but a girl could dream.

  “You’ve ruined me,” he said in a voice so quiet I almost couldn’t hear him over my heavy breathing.

  I scooted closer to the door. If he was talking to me, then he was still angry. If he was talking to himself, that meant he was crazy. Neither were nice options.

  Now that I thought about it, there was also the distinct possibility that when he was stepping between the snake and me, he was doing it to protect the snake from me, and not as a gentlemanly gesture.

  His solemn gaze focused on me again.

  I shifted from foot to foot. It was the perfect time to do one of the oldest and wisest traditions that had failed me earlier: run.

  “Don’t.” His voice stopped me mid-step as I headed for the door. “The people will be out there still. They were upset.”

  The small crowd had seemed a little uneasy...

  His voice softened when he spoke again, “Do you know why this golf course has become so popular in the past couple of months?”

  I straightened my shoulders and stepped closer to his desk, curious why he would ask me such a question. “Let me guess; you have a great marketing team?”

  He blinked slowly at me, and I watched as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. He stood and slid his suit jacket off, hanging it over his chair before he sat down again.

  I watched the whole thing. His fitted shirt showed that he did more than sit behind a desk all day. The sleeves pulled tight against his biceps, making me want to run my hands over them.

  “My marketing team sucks.” His words put a halt to my admiration. Right. We were talking about the golf course.

  “Well, maybe you should look for someone more qualified if you want a legendary golf course.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, hiding his facial expression behind his large hand. “You killed the only marketing tool I had.”

  I looked at him blankly. He and I must have been on different wavelengths because I was pretty sure the world’s biggest snake just tried to kill me. I couldn’t quite figure out how it was involved with his marketing plan.

  “How exactly?”

  He narrowed his eyes at me then pointed at the chair across from his desk. He didn’t say a word, simply pointed, like I was a well-trained puppy. I sat in the chair next to the window instead.

  “Lucifer—the snake—”

  “Yes, I assumed that’s who you were talking about.”

  His lips pressed tightly together as he glared at me. “Do you mind? As I was saying, Lucifer brought in business regularly. He brought me far more business than my marketing team ever did. And now he’s gone.”

  This man seemed a little put out about me taking care of his golf course’s little snake problem. I thought he would have been a little grateful. But it seemed like he was only worried about his revenue. I clenched my fist at my side, reminding myself that I couldn’t treat him the same as I would an eight-foot cottonmouth.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you seen your psychiatrist this week?” I asked him, because, apparently, I didn’t know when to keep my mouth shut.

  His eyes widened, and I could see the pulse stand out on his neck. I brushed a drop of sweat from my cheek.

  He stood up, and I scooted to the edge of my seat while mentally measuring the distance to the door.

  He reached under his desk, and I heard a drawer or cupboard open. Then, he walked over to me and handed me a cold sparkling water.

  “It’s hot out there today.” He gave me a small smile as I took the cold glass bottle from him. I pressed it to my cheek before I opened it and took a drink. He continued saying, “I’m sorry. I should have offered you something right away. You were out in the sun and then had the scare of your life. You’re probably dying of thirst.”

  He didn’t seem like he was mad at me at all. Maybe I’d misread him.

  I had been known to be wrong a time or two in my life.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  NOAH

  I rubbed a hand over my face as I tried to decide what to do with the woman sitting in my office. I understood what Kent meant now. She was funny, spunky, and a nervous talker. When she started rambling on our ride back to the clubhouse, I knew right away that I liked her. Most people were careful to hide their nervousness, but not her. Everything about her was sincere.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Page Boone.” She shifted in her seat and glanced around the office. Her eyes took in every detail.

  “How did you get here?”

  Her eyes settled on me, and she pursed her lips. “Well, my parents loved each other very much—and when two people love each other—”

  I started choking on air, something I didn’t even know was possible.

  She smirked at me, and I had a feeling she enjoyed keeping people uncomfortable.

  From what I gathered from her defensive posture earlier, I made her nervous. That was the last thing I wanted to do. Then again...she wanted to make me uncomfortable? Two could play that game.

  Never mind that she solved all of our problems with one good swing, I just wanted to see her reaction if I gave her a hard time about it. “What brought you to The Garden today?”

  “Actually, my aunt and uncle brought me. I tried to get out of it, but the restaurant staff wasn’t very helpful.”

  “So, you didn’t even want to be here, but you killed our mascot anyway?”

  “Never come between a woman and her golf ball. He was blocking me out. How was I supposed to beat Uncle Mike if I didn’t hit it? It was like forty-luv.” The tremor in her jaw gave away her bravado. I sighed and pressed a hand against my mouth to hide my smile.

  I shook my head at her scorekeeping. What was with people thinking golf and tennis were interchangeable?

  Note to self: teach her a few basics about golf.

  “What made that snake follow after you like that? He’s never come out of the rushes after anyone before.”

  “He probably liked my perfume.” She pointed at the binoculars that were still hanging around my neck. “Wait, how did you know he came out after me? Were you spying on me? Because that’s what it sounds like.”

  I shrugged, feeling my cheeks warm. It wasn’t like I stood there watching out the window all day long. “Every once in a while, I look out there to make sure everything is okay.”

  She sighed. “This is too sad.”

  “Why is it sad?”

  “You must live a boring life. No adventure. You can only live vicariously through other people—who golf.” She swiped at a few fake tears and motioned to the binoculars. “You have to watch through your big fancy window to have any excitement.”

  I fought another smile as I told her, “I promise I do not lack adventure.”

  Leaning forward on my desk, I straightened the papers Kent had brought me earlier. When I pulled up next to Lucifer’s pit, the small crowd had already been whispering words about her. They had been upset she killed the legend.

  She had been justifiably frightened after facing Lucifer, and the last thing she needed was to have people be angry at her. I wanted to keep her away from the crowds of people trying to talk to the ‘legend slayer.’ The term had already gained momentum by the time I reached her. She would either become the next novelty at the golf course, or people would be irrationally angry that she had acted out in
self-defense.

  “Prove it,” she demanded.

  “Prove what?”

  “That you live an adventurous life!”

  “I don’t have to prove it.”

  She laughed. “That means you don’t live an adventurous life.”

  “Why does it feel like I’m on the school playground again getting dared to do something?”

  She leaned forward and rested her elbow on the arm of her chair. “Does it work to dare you? Because I’m curious what a golf course owner does for an adventure.”

  “Maybe running a golf course is an adventure.”

  “Not sure that counts. Maybe with that snake living on the course.” She shuddered even though she was the one who mentioned it. Most people feared snakes—Page was no exception. She’d probably be especially scared of them after Lucifer.

  Time to keep her distracted with an argument until Kent let me know the coast was clear for her to leave. “That snake was an attraction for people.”

  Her face relaxed, and she leaned back in her chair. “So was the guillotine. Not all attractions are good attractions.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  But it was fun to play devil’s advocate for once. Usually Kent took on that role. “Lucifer brought a third of our golfers here to The Garden.”

  She walked around to my side of the desk and patted my shoulder like we were old friends. I froze—afraid that if I moved, she’d pull her hand away. “Don’t worry; we’ll find you something else that will bring in customers. I’ll help.”

  The serious look in her eye made me sit up straight. “What do you mean ‘you’ll help?’”

  “I’m fantastic at coming up with unique ideas. It’s pretty much my specialty.” She smiled at me, and I thought about what it would be like to kiss those heart-shaped lips.

  “You realize you’re probably a YouTube sensation by now.”

  Her lips quirked to the side. “Unfortunately, that’s not how I wanted to become famous.”

  Leaning forward, I rapped my knuckles on the desk as I looked up at her. “Oh, so you’re looking to become famous?”

  “Well, I do dabble in art.” She grazed her fingers along the edge of my chair.

  I took a steadying breath before I asked, “What type of art?”

  “Watercolor. Oils. Sketching. Sculpting is still an elusive skill.”

  “You’re an artist?” That was a large variety of skills for one person. I wondered if she was any good.

  “Trying to be.”

  She picked up my mug and glanced at the now-cold tea inside of it. She scowled. I snatched the cup out of her hand and set it down beyond her reach.

  “What do you like to paint?”

  “I’ve just finished a collection of Picasso imitations. I think you need one on your wall.” She pointed to the blank space on the wall where I had removed some of my grandfather’s tasteless art.

  “You’ll have to show me your paintings sometime. I have been looking for a piece to hang there. It seems a little empty in here without something.”

  “I’d like to give you one,” she said as she sat on my desk. I had chairs all over my office, but she chose to sit on top of my papers.

  My phone rang, interrupting me from accepting the offered painting sight-unseen. I studied her as I answered it. “Hello?”

  Page swiped a finger over the top of my computer monitor then held it out to me as though she were the dust police.

  I swiped the dust off of her finger with the sleeve of my shirt while I listened to my restaurant supplier tell me why their rates were increasing. “Look, you told me if we went with you as a supplier, you would give us a price guarantee for a year. It’s been four weeks. I have it in the contract that you’ll be meeting those prices for the next eleven months.”

  “Manufacturing prices have risen, and we can’t cover costs if we continue selling at that price. We’d go bankrupt supplying to you at the price we are right now,” the whiny voice on the other end of the phone told me.

  With a groan, I tapped a hand against my desk. “I’ll be looking over our contract carefully, and you had better be prepared to honor it.”

  I hung up the phone and noticed Page held last week’s guest book on her lap and was flipping through it, looking at the signatures. “You have a few regulars, but nobody steady.”

  “That seems to be the consensus.” I gritted my teeth together.

  She glanced up sharply. “Problems in paradise? Is that why you were so worried about losing the snake?”

  Her hazel eyes studied mine, and even though I had an excuse on the tip of my tongue, I told her the truth. She had no vested interest in this golf course—especially after Lucifer tried to eat her for lunch. “The course is having some issues right now. I took over eight weeks ago, and I’m discovering problem after problem.”

  She nodded and turned back to the guest book. “You’ll straighten it out. I can tell.”

  Her words made me want to puff out my chest like a professional weightlifter. Her opinion mattered more than it should.

  But she wasn’t the person I wanted to complain about work troubles with—I wanted to impress her, not scare her away. “Are you all right? It’s not every day a person comes face to face with an eight-foot cottonmouth.”

  She lifted her head, and her eyes locked on mine. My breath caught as she leaned closer to me and spoke in a soft voice. “You’re worried about me.”

  Right then, the office door swung open, and Kent walked into the room, interrupting our moment. He stopped short when he saw Page sitting on my desk leaning toward me. “Oh, hello.”

  She tilted her head toward him. “Hey! Blondie. You’re the one who kept sending me notes at the table. You weren’t very helpful.”

  She raised her eyebrows at Kent, and suddenly I felt a twinge. A twinge of something almost like jealousy. Sure, she hadn’t smiled at him, but she was paying more attention to him than me now.

  Kent smiled what I liked to call his ‘sleaze’ smile. The one he smiled whenever he was trying to impress a girl. He was usually good at it, too.

  “What is it, Kent?” I bit out.

  “Everyone’s downstairs. They didn’t leave. Instead, they decided to talk about Lucifer in the airconditioned restaurant. I think they’re starting a memorial service for him right now. The staff is swamped.”

  Great. Just what I needed today—a snake funeral. “You couldn’t handle it?”

  “They’re short-staffed—it will probably take both of us.”

  “Wonderful.” It was not wonderful. I didn’t want to deal with my incompetent restaurant staff right then. I wanted to keep talking with Page. Unfortunately, reality was calling. The price of owning a business—I had no time to call my own.

  “I’ll be back in a moment,” I told Page. I grabbed my jacket off the chair and was surprised when two slender hands helped me slide it on. She stepped in front of me and helped straighten it before she buttoned the front. I stood there, mesmerized by her touch.

  “There, now you look like a professional.” She patted my chest, her pale blue fingernails contrasting against my dark navy suit. I wondered if she could feel my heart thundering under her hand.

  I cleared my throat. “Thank you.” With a reluctant dip of my head, I walked around her and out the office door. I glanced over my shoulder—she was smiling at me.

  Kent gave me a funny look when I followed him down the hall. “So, that’s the way it is,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I brushed some imaginary lint off of my arms.

  He snorted but didn’t say another word until we reached the restaurant. “We’re short on wait staff today, and the main grilling element went out. The cook doesn’t know how to make anything without that grill.”

  “We need a new chef,” I complained. “And more reliable wait staff.”

  “Yes, to both those things.”

  We stepped through the restaurant doors. Every table was f
ull, and there were only two waiters in sight. Several hands waved through the air, trying to get their attention.

  “What in the world?”

  It looked like every golfer who’d ever been to The Garden now sat in my restaurant.

  “I told you. The golfers are all here to toast Lucifer.” Kent grumbled. “It would have been better if I could quietly remove him from the course. But no, several people got a full video of her killing that snake.”

  Someone tapped their glass where they stood on the small stage designed for live music—which we never had.

  “Excuse me!” He was an older gentleman who was one of my grandfather’s friends. I recognized the man right away. He routinely complained about anything and everything when he was at The Garden. Clearing his throat, he began his speech. “Today is a sad day for us all. A fine specimen killed in the prime of its life. We looked forward to any chance we had to see Lucifer—”

  “Please tell me I didn’t walk in during a snake eulogy,” a soft voice whispered.

  I spun around to find Page standing to my left. “That’s what it is all right. Come with us; they might start a riot if they see you.”

  I held out a hand, motioning for her to follow Kent and me. She surprised me by grabbing my hand. I didn’t let go as we made our way around the outside of the room, heading for the kitchen. I pushed open the swinging door and stepped inside.

  Voices yelled back and forth, smoke and steam filled the room, and I think one of my waiters was crying.

  “This is bad,” Page commented unnecessarily.

  “Want me to announce that the restaurant is closed?” Kent asked.

  I felt, more than saw, Page’s eyes on me. I stepped forward into the middle of the chaos and spoke to the chef. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Everyone started yelling at once.

  Holding up my left hand since Page still held my right, I added, “One at a time.”

  Layton, the college student who we hired on for the fall, started. “Karissa and Benson didn’t come in for their shift today, and Colin’s out sick. It’s only Tammy and me. We can’t keep up on the orders and bus the tables.”

 

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