The Long Shot

by A. L. Brooks

  “Okay, tell me everything.”

  Here goes. “The project is going well. All of the golfers are keen to have this film show off their world in the best way, so they’ve all been extremely helpful.” She chuckled. “One wanted to take that a tad too far.” She told Tricia about Laurie’s proposition.

  “Ew!” Tricia mimed sticking her fingers down her throat. “Who does that?”

  Adrienne shook her head. “She has a reputation for it, apparently. At least she did take no for an answer. I was dreading she’d appear at the door to my room later that night.”

  Tricia laughed. “And there was me thinking only men could be that sleazy.”

  “Oh, no, unfortunately not.” Adrienne sipped her coffee, then exhaled, preparing herself. “And, well, there is something else that’s got me feeling good about life again.”

  “Oh?” Tricia’s eyebrows rose. “Do tell.”

  Adrienne fiddled with her napkin. How to say it? “Well, Morgan and I are…seeing each other. Quietly, privately for now, while the project is ongoing, but it’s…it’s really good. It’s…it could be something very special.”

  Tricia’s eyes narrowed, and she took a moment to respond. “I thought you weren’t going to risk it? I mean, okay, if you tell me it’s good, whatever this thing is that you have going on with her, I’ll believe you, but what about your job if anyone finds out?”

  She’d expected it, of course, but it still stung. “I thought you’d be happy for me. You said yourself you didn’t want me alone forever. Now I’m sitting here telling you I’ve found someone who makes me feel incredibly positive about the future, and you can’t see beyond any risk there might be from it to my job?”

  Tricia blinked a few times, her lips pursed, then sighed. “I’m…” She shook her head. “You’re right. Being happy for you should have been my first thought.” She paused and rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I just… Sorry, I guess I’m still a little cynical about your motivations for getting involved with someone so young.” She threw up her hands as Adrienne leaned forward to protest. “I know, I know, it’s grossly unfair. It seems I might be carrying around some prejudices of my own.” She slumped back in her chair. “Give me a minute here. Please.”

  Adrienne bit back her words and let her friend ruminate while they drank their coffee. The waitress appeared with their food—an omelet each and a stack of pancakes to share—and set their plates down, casting a nervous glance between the two silent women as she did so.

  “Is that everything?” she asked, her voice cracking.

  “Yes, thank you.” Adrienne offered her an encouraging smile, which seemed to relax the young woman before she bounded off to deal with her next table.

  “Morgan really makes you happy? Genuinely happy?” Tricia said suddenly, her gaze intense.

  “She does.” Adrienne smiled, a wonderful mix of images of Morgan conjured up by just thinking about her. “Morgan is…amazing. Thoughtful, caring, fun, intelligent. She respects me and my feelings 100 percent.” Adrienne’s voice was full of the passion she felt for Morgan. “She’s not putting any pressure on me to rush into…things and is also concerned about how what we have fits with my job. She’s willing to keep us well under the radar until the project is over. At the same time, she’s making it very clear that she’s in this for real, not just for some quick fling or to tick ‘older woman’ off some imaginary list. I honestly don’t think I could have found a better person to trust my heart to again.”

  “Your…heart?” Tricia’s eyes went wide.

  “Yes! Haven’t you been listening to me? I’m in. All in. Morgan is… She’s someone I’m going to fall in love with, if I’m not already there, and the more I allow myself to think about that, the more I want it. Want her.”

  Adrienne shuddered at her own words. This thing with Morgan had somehow crept up on her, but the power of it was undeniable.

  “Wow.” Tricia stared at her, then shook her head once and smiled ruefully before reaching for Adrienne’s hand. “My friend, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to be an asshole. I was just…”

  “Looking out for me?” Adrienne had suspected, deep down, that was Tricia’s motivation, so despite how lukewarm her reaction to Adrienne’s news had originally been, she could quite comfortably forgive her now.

  “Yes.” Tricia squeezed Adrienne’s hand. “But in an even more overbearing way than usual, it would seem.”

  Adrienne snorted, and Tricia laughed, and they clutched each other’s hands to anchor themselves against the mirth.

  “She sounds wonderful,” Tricia said, her voice catching. “And you really do seem very happy, so I am truly happy for you. The way you talk about her says it all, and I can’t wait to meet this woman who’s brought my friend back to life.”

  “Then we’ll have to arrange that very soon.”

  Tricia smiled. “I’d love that. Now, let’s eat this plate of cholesterol before it goes cold, huh?”

  The long first hole on the Wentworth West Course was a daunting yet magnificent sight, and Morgan’s pulse sped up just gazing down its tree-lined length. This, and many of the other famous courses around the world, was the kind of course she’d dreamed of playing as a young girl. A wide grin split her face as she turned back from the view to walk over to Harry.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Beyond good,” she replied and grinned even more inanely at him.

  He placed a hand on her forehead. “Hm, no fever, so that ain’t it.”

  She batted his hand away and laughed. “Harry, look at this place!” She swung her arms wide. “This is so cool.”

  He rolled his eyes, then pulled the driver out of the bag. “You here to play golf or act like a fifteen-year-old?”

  “Both.” She impishly stuck out her tongue.

  He cocked his head and stared at her, a faint smile on his lips. “All right, Spencer, what gives?”

  “Nothing.” She tried to pull away from his gaze but couldn’t quite do it. “Just, you know, happy.”

  “Happy. Uh-huh. Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain TV producer would it?”

  She studied him for any signs of disapproval but found none. “Okay, yes, that too. We’re…we’re in a good place.”

  “She cares for you?” he asked, his voice a little rough.

  “She does,” Morgan whispered, her heart full.

  “Good.” He thrust the driver at her. “Now, let’s practice.”

  Morgan smiled. His abruptness was his way of masking his emotions, and it added yet another layer to her happiness to know that Harry was pleased for her.

  Impulsively, she stepped over to him and gave him a one-armed hug, which he returned in kind, his whiskery cheek pressed against hers.

  “What’s that for?” he asked gruffly.

  “I love you, Harry.” She’d never told him and hadn’t imagined she would ever say it out loud, but there would never be a better moment.

  Harry said nothing, just pulled away to stare at her. He rubbed the back of his neck, then patted her on the back. “That’s… Thank you,” he said. “Now, we gonna play some damn golf or what?”

  Morgan stepped back. “Sir!” She saluted with her free hand, then grinned when he tutted and walked away.

  Placing her ball on the tee, Morgan composed herself. Much as she wanted to think about Adrienne, she cleared her from her mind. She also shunted away any thoughts of her parents and the troubled stalemate their relationship found itself in. She’d catch up with her mom for a late lunch after this practice round. All thoughts of anything but golf were quickly and efficiently locked into their appropriate boxes in her mind, and she inhaled deeply once, twice, three times before stepping up to the ball.

  It was time to play, and Morgan was more than ready.

  “Hey, Mom.” Morgan leaned into her mom’s proffered
hug and held her tight. “How are you?”

  “Well, jet lagged like you wouldn’t believe, but I’ll survive,” her mom answered with a light chuckle.

  Morgan sat at the table in the hotel’s casual brasserie-style restaurant and dropped her bag at her feet. “Well, you look pretty good to me,” she said, and it was true—her mom looked surprisingly unworried and relaxed.

  “Thank you, darling. That’s sweet of you to say. How was your practice? And how is that lovely girlfriend of yours?”

  Morgan startled. It was the first time Adrienne had been referenced as such, and the word brought a satisfaction to Morgan that was hard to describe. “Adrienne is good. She arrived last night, but we won’t be able to meet up until tomorrow morning. I have sponsor commitments this evening, and she has work to do to set up their filming this week.”

  “Well, like you said, once this project’s finished, you’ll be able to see much more of each other, and that will make your time even more special.”

  “You’re taking this new relationship very well, Mom. I mean, when I first spoke to you about Adrienne, you seemed to be worried about the age gap and—”

  “That was before I heard so much about her and how well you two seem to fit. I can’t wait to meet her this week.”

  “Oh, well, I don’t know when we can make that happen, but we can certainly try.”

  Her mother’s eyes sparkled. “I might just take matters into my own hands, you know, and introduce myself to her out on the course. I assume she’ll be following your rounds?”

  Morgan blinked. This new version of her mom, the confident, playful one, was a joy to know. “Um, yeah, she will, so, hey, why not? I’d love to make the introductions myself, but if that doesn’t happen, I’d… Well, it would mean a lot to me that you’d go out of your way to find her and talk to her.”

  “Of course I would. She’s important to you, more important than anyone who’s come before, I think. So I want to meet this woman and get to know her too.”

  “I think you’re gonna make me cry if you don’t stop being so nice.”

  Her mom laughed and patted Morgan’s hand. “I’m sorry, darling. But I can’t seem to stop—giving your father a large piece of my mind seems to have done wonders for my emotional health. Who would have thought?” She threw Morgan a wry smile. “Come on, let’s order. I’m ravenous.”

  They placed their orders, and after the waiter had poured them each a glass of water, they chatted about Morgan’s practice round. She’d shot a seventy, which was a solid start on a tough course.

  “And everything’s feeling good out there?”

  “It really is. Harry’s pleased, which is always a good sign.”

  “Good.”

  Morgan couldn’t wait any longer. “Can I ask, how was the trip over with Dad?”

  Her mom smiled in a way that Morgan could only describe as wicked.

  “Well,” she replied as she twirled the water glass in her hand, “I think your father has finally realized this is serious and he’d better do something about it.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Her mom snorted. “He was the most chivalrous and attentive I’ve seen him since we were dating. He also went to great lengths to make it obvious he was studying his player notes ready for Thursday. And your profile was top of his pile.”

  Morgan opened her mouth, but no sound appeared. Her mom nodded and smiled smugly. “Yes. And when we got to the hotel, I made it perfectly clear we were now in separate rooms, and for the first time since I met him, he was literally speechless. In fact,” she said, chuckling, “he looked rather like you do right now.”

  Morgan still couldn’t make any sound, nor could she close her mouth.

  Her mother shrugged. “Let’s see if this is all just for show or whether he really is going to come around.”

  “Well,” Morgan said, finally remembering how words were formed, “I hope for your sakes it’s the latter.”

  “I only hope he realizes what damage he would do to us, to all of us, if he tries to fake this.”

  Morgan nodded in agreement. While it still concerned her that her parents’ marriage was going through this rough patch—she didn’t want to think about it as anything more serious than that right now—somehow her emotional balance was still good.

  Probably because Mom seems to be turning into a badass. If she can handle it, so can I.

  When their food arrived, they turned their conversation to lighter and easier topics, and the meal passed pleasantly.

  Morgan charged the lunch to her room over her mother’s protests, and they said their good-byes.

  “I’ll hopefully see you sometime tomorrow, perhaps after my final practice round,” Morgan said as they hugged.

  “Whenever you can find time, darling. But don’t put any pressure on yourself. I’m going to enjoy myself this week and enjoy watching you play, and I know we can always catch up again after the final round.”

  “Well, I like your confidence that I’ll make the cut.” Morgan grinned.

  Her mom stepped back, her hands wrapped firmly around Morgan’s biceps, and she stared deeply into Morgan’s eyes. “You will. I know it. You are in a better place than you’ve ever been, and that will count for a lot this week. You’ll see.”

  Morgan smiled. “Thanks. Love you.”

  “I love you too, darling.”

  Morgan watched her mom walk away toward the doors that led to the hotel grounds, then bent to gather her bag. When she stood again, her heart boomed.

  Her father watched her from across the restaurant, framed by the doorway that led to the lobby.

  She hesitated for just a moment, then sucked in a breath and headed his way.

  He held her gaze the whole way but made no move to come to her.

  “Dad,” she said as she reached him.

  “Morgan.” His tone was clipped.

  “How are you?”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” he asked and looked genuinely confused.

  “I… What?”

  “Encouraging your mother in this…this crazy scheme of hers.”

  “Dad,” Morgan said, careful to keep her tone calm and neutral. He seemed rattled, and she’d never seen him this way. “I honestly don’t know what you mean. I’m not encouraging her in anything. She’s done this of her own free will.”

  “Yes? Then why is she living with you when she should be at home?”

  “Would you rather she was in a hotel, surrounded by strangers?”

  He blinked. “Well, no, of course not.” He ran a hand over his hair. “I don’t understand,” he muttered. “I’ve given you everything. You never wanted for anything, did you? And this is how I’m repaid.”

  Her temperature rose, and Morgan counted to three before she replied. “I’m not ‘repaying’ you for anything. This is between you and Mom. Maybe you should just listen to what she’s been saying and—”

  “Don’t you tell me what to do!” His cheeks reddened. “Just like your mother, trying to make me do things and be a certain way and feel things I don’t feel.”

  “Dad.” This time she couldn’t hide her impatience. “Seriously, are you even listening to yourself? Mom’s asked you to change some specific behaviors, namely the ones where you treat her and me and all women as somehow less simply because we’re women. Why is that so difficult for you to grasp? And why is that so difficult for you to want to change? Do you want to treat us all as second-class humans?”

  “And now you’re just being ridiculous,” he scoffed, but his eyes were shadowed, as if he didn’t really believe his own words. “I might have known I’d get nowhere with you.”

  He turned and limped away.

  Morgan watched him go and breathed slowly until her heart rate normalized.

  Well, at this rate, Mom may be moving in with me permane
ntly.

  She sighed. She’d always known her father was difficult, she, and sometimes even Jack, staying well clear of him when he was in one of his moods. But this…this was a whole different level, and it saddened her more than she would have thought to see her father so…lost to them all.

  Chapter 18

  It took every ounce of self-control Adrienne possessed not to leap out of her chair and run into Morgan’s arms when Morgan walked purposefully across the coffee shop—tea shop, she corrected herself—toward her at around ten on Wednesday morning. Instead, Adrienne settled for smiling widely at her and gripping the table to keep her hands from doing anything inappropriate.

  “Hey,” Morgan said quietly as she stopped about two feet away.

  “Hi.”

  Morgan snorted then sat down with a thump. “Oh my God, this is hard. All I want to do right now is kiss you!”

  She kept her voice low, but that really didn’t help Adrienne’s libido to stay in check; the huskiness of Morgan’s tone only added fuel to the simmering fire.

  Adrienne cleared her throat. “I know. And me too.”

  Nodding, Morgan stared at her, a big smile plastered on her face. “You look good.”

  It still took some getting used to, receiving compliments from this gorgeous woman, but Adrienne did her best to gracefully accept with a dip of her head and a murmured, “Thank you.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Is that code for, ‘you look tired, honey’?” Adrienne asked with a smirk.

  Morgan laughed, then shook her head. “No! Trust me, if you looked like crap, I’d tell you.”

  Adrienne doubted that was true. “I’m fine. Less tired than I would imagine, actually. Flying business class did make a difference.”

  “Oh yeah! I still remember flying coach to Europe when I was a student. I felt like I’d never stand up straight again after I finally peeled myself out of my seat at Heathrow.”

  Chuckling, Adrienne made to reach across the table, then stopped herself. Damn!

  “I know,” Morgan said sympathetically when Adrienne tutted at herself and sat back.