by A. L. Brooks
Four under, two to play. Couldn’t have asked for better.
“Yes!” Adrienne said softly, watching Morgan go four under, one shot ahead of the rest of the field. Morgan was playing so well, and Adrienne burst with pride and excitement.
She eased her way through the crowds, who were staying to watch the next pairing arrive on the sixteenth, and reached the path that led to the seventeenth tee.
It was a glorious summer’s day, and she reveled in the sun’s warmth on her face as she walked. Her steps were light, which she knew came from the excitement of watching Morgan do so well. She refused to let the sour situation with Jenny spoil her day. Thankfully, her assistant, while still clearly pissed at Adrienne, had woken up with her professional persona in place and was now ensconced on the eighteenth green with Toby and Diane, capturing the top players’ final shots of this first round. Adrienne could have stayed with them to oversee but had made her excuses and left them to it. If Jenny suspected what Adrienne was going to do instead, she gave no obvious sign, focused on the schedule and keeping her head down.
It was probably the best Adrienne could hope for.
“Ms. Wyatt?” a voice asked from her left side.
Adrienne turned and found Bree Spencer strolling toward her, a warm smile on her face. She was casually dressed in capri pants and a summer sweater, both in a rich blue, but she still looked classy and poised. The breeze lifted her hair, and she absently patted it back down with one hand while the other removed her sunglasses.
“Mrs. Spencer!” Adrienne halted her steps and held out her hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
Bree smiled and shook her hand firmly. “And you. I was hoping I would find you today. Do you mind if I walk with you to the seventeenth?” Her blue eyes shone in the bright sunshine, and Adrienne noted that Bree had the same long, lush eyelashes as her daughter.
“No, not at all!”
They fell back into step beside each other. Adrienne found herself unusually nervous. She knew Bree knew about Morgan and Adrienne’s burgeoning relationship, and Morgan had assured her Bree was happy for them, but…
“I’m going to come right out and say it,” Bree said, and although quiet, her voice carried more than a hint of excitement. “I’m so happy for you and Morgan!”
“Oh.” Adrienne’s heart thumped, and she smiled. “Well, thank you. That’s wonderful to hear.”
“I’ve never seen her so happy.” Bree leaned in and kept her voice quiet—she clearly knew they were still keeping it on the down low. “She didn’t stop smiling the whole two days I was in her house.”
Adrienne shook her head. “I really don’t know what to say, but thank you. I…I’ll be honest, I worried you would think I was too old for her. I mean, we’re nearer in age,” she said, motioning between herself and Bree, “than myself and Morgan.”
Bree chuckled. “Sorry, dear, I’m already spoken for.” Adrienne nearly choked, and Bree patted her arm. “Was that too much?”
Adrienne laughed. “No, you’re fine. I… Thank you for coming over to say hi.”
“It was important.” Bree shrugged. “Morgan’s had a hard time this past year or so, longer if you count all the ways her father has let her down since she turned professional. I’m determined she knows that at least one of her parents supports her in every aspect of her life. Especially,” Bree said with a warm smile, “when she’s found herself such a lovely partner.”
“Mrs. Spencer, you’re making me blush.”
“Oh, please call me Bree.”
“Okay, then please call me Adrienne.”
They smiled at each other, then Bree, to Adrienne’s joy, linked her arm through Adrienne’s.
“Right, now that we’ve got that all worked out, let’s go support our Morgan together, shall we?”
Overcome with emotion, Adrienne merely nodded and allowed Bree Spencer to lead her to the seventeenth tee.
Chapter 19
You’re playing so well! I’m so proud of you. x
The message from Adrienne was one of many Morgan had received from various people that Friday evening, but it was the one that warmed her heart the most. Although the one from her brother, Jack, was right up there too.
Best I’ve ever seen you play! I’m glad I got knocked out on the quarters yesterday. Now I can watch you all weekend, haha!
She’d chuckled at that one. He would have been pissed not to make it to the semis of the Rogers Cup, but given his ranking, the quarters was a great achievement. Her message back to him had been full of praise, and they’d chatted via text for a couple of minutes.
Her mom had called, and Morgan had taken that one, letting everyone else who’d tried go to voice mail. Being two shots in the lead overnight going into the third round of the Women’s British Open, Morgan didn’t want any distractions. But talking to her mom didn’t count.
“Oh, and I found Adrienne again, and we had a lovely time together,” her mom said after they’d chatted a little about Morgan’s second round.
“You’re seeing her more than I am,” Morgan grumbled.
Her mother laughed. “I know, dear, but I think it helps her having someone she can talk to about you.”
“I hope you’re not giving away all my secrets, Mom.”
“Only a few, darling.”
Morgan had groaned, her mom had laughed, and they’d said good night at that point.
Her last message of the evening had been from Hilton.
Superstar! Loving what I’m seeing out there. So are S Pro.
He’d finished that with a winking emoji, and Morgan had to admit his hint of good news about a major sponsor gave her a flutter of excitement. If she was signed by S Pro, all sorts of things would be possible, never mind the money she’d earn. For starters, she could begin to ease up her schedule somewhat—more time at home would be wonderful, especially if Adrienne was part of that picture. At that thought, her stomach flipped.
Whoa, slow down! You haven’t even started dating properly, and you’re already thinking of living together? She chuckled ruefully. I’m so far gone it’s crazy.
Morgan put her phone down and concentrated on getting ready for the morning. She’d be playing with Kim Lee, who was one shot behind Morgan. So Park was in third place, a further shot back, tied with Laurie Schweitzer, so they’d be the penultimate pair going out. Naomi hadn’t even made the cut and had glared at Morgan as she left the referee’s office, as if somehow it was Morgan’s fault. Morgan had ignored her.
According to things Morgan had overheard, Kim Lee apparently wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Morgan had heard rumors of Lee having an ankle injury this week, and while Morgan felt sorry for her, she had to admit a less-than-100-percent Lee was good news for herself.
Yeah, but you still have to play your game, so focus only on that.
With her brain firmly back in the right place, Morgan concentrated on her course notes for the third round and sipped at a chamomile tea.
Adrienne pushed her way into the back of the press room on Saturday evening, more than a little surprised to see it so busy. Sure, Morgan had fired another impressive round to maintain her position in first place at the end of the third round today, and Laurie Schweitzer had played even better to be only two shots behind Morgan overnight, but the press hadn’t seemed this interested even at the PGA. Keeping herself against the rear wall to ensure Morgan wouldn’t see her through the crowd, Adrienne watched the session unfold.
The top four—Morgan, Schweitzer, So Park, and Charlie McKinnon—were just taking their seats up on the raised platform. A sound technician fussed around with the microphones, then hurried away. That was the signal for the questions to start, and at a prompt from the tour official acting as moderator, Patty from CBS got them underway.
“Morgan, how does it feel to be leading a major going into the final round?”
> “It’s not bad,” Morgan said with a wry grin, which earned her a laugh from the room.
Laurie looked pissed, and Adrienne couldn’t help the small measure of delight that gave her.
“But seriously,” Morgan said, “it was another good day, and that’s all you ever want.”
A slew of hands shot up. The moderator pointed at a man in the fourth row.
“Tom Harrison, Sport Today dot Net,” he announced loudly above the clamor in the room.
Adrienne tutted. Sport Today were renowned for including large doses of gossip and speculation about stars’ private lives in amongst their actual coverage of the main sports played in the US. Their presence in a press room was always treated with a certain level of derision by the rest of the journalists.
Someone near to Adrienne muttered, “Asshole,” but she forgot all about seeing who that was as Tom asked his question.
“Morgan, I’m guessing having a new woman in your life has helped your preparations for this week, yes?”
The room fell eerily silent for a moment.
Morgan blinked, and Adrienne wanted to climb over the ten rows of chairs in front of her and strangle Tom Harrison with his own tie.
“Even if there was something new in my private life,” Morgan said in a tight voice, “I don’t think this is the place for me to discuss it. If you want to ask about my round today, then—”
“Is it true she’s working on a documentary with you?” Tom interrupted. “That despite there being very clear ethical issues around being involved with someone she works with, she’s pursued you to each tournament and—”
Adrienne didn’t hear what else he said. She froze in place, her heart thudding painfully. How dare he? And where the hell had he gotten his information?
Oh God, no. Please, not Jenny. Her stomach dropped to her knees. Surely she wouldn’t.
Would she?
Suddenly aware that a few pairs of eyes now looked in her direction, Adrienne inhaled deeply. She willed her face not to color and lifted her chin in defiance. On meeting her calm, level gaze, most people looked rapidly away.
One person, however, locked gazes with her and didn’t flinch.
In fact, she looked highly amused.
Cindy Thomson.
Morgan’s heart raced so violently she wondered how everyone in the room couldn’t hear it. How the hell had Harrison found out?
“I’m not going to answer questions about my private life,” she repeated through gritted teeth.
Where was Adrienne? God, please don’t let her be here, having to listen to this.
“Next question!” the moderator called. He sounded flustered and out of his depth.
Harrison opened his mouth, but a woman from the UK newspaper The Times stood up from two seats away and practically yelled her question over whatever Tom was trying to say next.
“Do you think a two-shot lead is enough going into tomorrow?”
Thank God. Whoever you are, British lady, I love you.
Morgan exhaled slowly and cast a quick glance at Laurie Schweitzer, whose face was set in a grim mask of disapproval.
“Well, I’d like it to be more, of course,” Morgan said, and hoped her voice didn’t wobble with the stress. “Laurie’s a tough player, as are all the women in the top six or seven. I know I’ll have to play my very best to maintain that lead.”
Laurie shifted in her seat, and a smile finally graced her face as she leaned forward into her microphone. “Yes, you will.”
Some of the tension in the room broke with light chuckles scattered here and there.
“What she said!” Charlie said.
The laughter that had started gently with Laurie’s comment turned into a full wave of mirth around the room.
The woman from The Times turned her next question to Laurie, and Morgan only just stopped herself from slumping back in her chair. Professional, remember? But God, that was so hard right now when all she wanted to do was, first, punch Tom Harrison and, second, find Adrienne and make sure she was okay.
They all endured another twenty minutes of the press before the moderator called a halt. Thankfully, all further questions had purely been about the golf, with every other reporter in the room, it seemed, determined to keep Harrison quiet. Morgan thought she caught more than a few looks of disgust thrown his way by his peers as they all stood to leave.
Morgan couldn’t get off the stage quick enough but kept her back straight and her pace even as she did so. A warm hand took hold of her elbow. She turned to see Laurie looking at her with, much to Morgan’s surprise, sympathy on her face.
“You didn’t deserve that,” Laurie said. She shrugged. “I mean, I’m still going to kick your ass tomorrow, but what he did back there was bullshit, and I’m sorry you had to go through it.”
Morgan was stunned. “Thanks, Laurie.” She grinned. “And we’ll see about that ass kicking.”
Laurie chuckled, released Morgan’s elbow, and walked away.
“What did she want?” Charlie asked as Morgan drew level with her at the doorway.
“Actually, she was nice. Told me what Tom did was crap.”
“And she was right!” Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell was all that? I was very close to leaping off the stage and punching him.”
Morgan shook her head, and her dread for Adrienne swamped her, turning her blood cold. “Yeah, I can relate. I have no idea what he thinks he knows or how, but I have to find Adrienne.”
“Come on, I’ve got no plans right now. Let’s search together. Four eyes are better than two, right?”
Adrienne scrolled through the article on the Sport Today website and didn’t know whether to scream or cry or both. The information they’d received from whoever their source was clearly had enough meat that they’d been able to fill in the gaps and present a fairly accurate picture of what had happened between her and Morgan. Now pretty much the whole golfing world knew about them, and it would only be a matter of time before her phone started ringing.
She sighed as she looked out over the eighteenth green. Having managed to extricate herself from the press room shortly after Harrison dropped his bombshell—neatly sidestepping Cindy and her vicious smile before she could open her nasty mouth—Adrienne had fled to the only place she knew would be empty. There were a couple of course grounds staff clearing up after the day, but tucked beside the seating stand, Adrienne was out of sight and could at least breathe again.
How had this unraveled so spectacularly? And what did it mean for them? For herself?
Right on cue, her phone rang, with Daniel’s number in the caller display. She had to talk to him, she knew that, but not right now. She needed time to gather her thoughts, to understand within herself what she was comfortable doing about this situation.
And to find Morgan, make sure she was okay, and talk it through with her. Adrienne couldn’t make this decision alone; she was in a partnership, albeit a sparkly new one, but what Morgan thought counted for much.
She declined Daniel’s call to send it through to voice mail and slipped her phone in her purse.
A quick glance at her watch told her the press call should now be finished. Time to head back to the hotel and take some time to calm down before she found Morgan.
Finding Jenny was also on her list. Although ripping off her assistant’s head wasn’t going to solve anything. The story was out, whether it was Jenny who had provided it or not. She was high on Adrienne’s list of suspects simply because of what had come to pass over the last couple of days. But also high on the list was Cindy Thomson—that smirk she’d given Adrienne in the press room had been way too knowing.
Adrienne sighed. Cindy she could deal with. But if it was Jenny, then that was, unfortunately, the end of their working relationship. There would be no way back from this.
Morgan and Charlie st
ood on the front steps of the clubhouse, hands on hips.
“She must have gone for a walk,” Morgan said as she scanned their surroundings.
“Well, I can’t blame her for wanting some privacy after that,” Charlie replied softly.
“No, nor can I.” Morgan sighed. “I hope she’s okay.”
“Still no answer to your message?”
“No.” She shrugged. “Hey, she’s a grown-up. When she’s ready to talk, she’ll find me.”
Charlie grasped her arm. “She will. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s just staying out of your way, thinking you need some time too.”
“Yeah, I know. I just hate that it happened this way. Outside of a tournament, I could, I don’t know, whisk her away somewhere quiet where we could just be…us. Here, I’m totally exposed and supposed to be focusing on the final round tomorrow.”
“And she’d want you to do that, you know that, right?” Charlie stared intently at her. “That’s what’s so good about what you two have already—you both get what’s important to each other outside of what you share.”
Morgan’s mood lifted at the words. “Yeah, that’s absolutely true.”
“Big change from what you had with Naomi, huh?”
Morgan snorted. “Very true.”
“So, um, who do you think gave them the story?”
Morgan exhaled slowly. “I guess probably Naomi. I still can’t believe she’d go that far, though.”
“Oh, come on, she’s totally capable of something like this.” Charlie’s mouth twisted in disgust.
“Ugh, I suppose you’re right.”
“Morgan, I’d like a word with you, please.” Her father’s voice from behind her made her jump, and she spun round.
“Dad?”
“Hi, Mr. Spencer,” Charlie said breezily.
Morgan’s father merely nodded in Charlie’s direction, and Morgan’s tension ratcheted up.