Beautiful Entourage (11 page)

“You tell me,” he said. “Have you ever been inside a Bentley?” A mischievous look was on his face.

“No, sir. I never have,” Rhett said.

“Then you’re in for a surprise.”

Rhett and I retrieved his clubs from his trunk then joined my father in the parking garage. When Rhett opened the passenger door for me to sit down, Dad intervened.

“You need to sit up front, kid. Otherwise you don’t get the full experience. Aspen has been in this thing a million times.”

Actually, I’d been in it twice. But whatever.

“Good idea, sir.” He opened the back door for me to get inside.

I kept a stoic expression as I got in, not wanting to snap at my dad while he was warming up to Rhett.

For the entire drive, they discussed the Bentley and how shiny and pretty it was. I just stared out the window and tried not to fall asleep. How could my father care so much about something that didn’t matter, but be totally oblivious to something as paramount as clean and renewable energy? I tried not to think about it because it made me want to slash his tires and key the doors.

When we arrived at the course, it was a beautiful day. The sun shined in a cloudless sky, and the green had its own distinct smell. Golf carts were scattered throughout the course, and a slight breeze moved through my hair. Since my golf clubs were at home, I had to rent a set. If I had my own, I would play better but it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t matter what clubs I used. I was still a better golfer than my dad even though he would rather say he was a transvestite than admit I was good at anything.

Rhett continued the boring conversation with my father but touched me whenever affection was permitted. When we began our eight-hole course, Rhett turned to me. “Ladies first.”

I grabbed my driver then stood over my ball. I carefully planned out my swing and how I intended to hit the ball.

Dad and Rhett discussed tax loopholes, something my father was particularly interested in. Rhett kept up in the conversation, and I was surprised he knew so much about the topic. He owned a business himself but it was small, not a billion dollar corporation like my father’s. But there didn’t seem to be anything he wasn’t knowledgeable about. He was one of the brightest men I’d ever met.

They totally ignored me so I took my time lining up the shot. The hole was over a slight hill and dangerously close to a sand pit. The slight breeze also played a factor into my calculations. When I had everything set up, I pulled my driver back then hit it with a predetermined amount of force.

The ball flew through the air then hit the green with a thud. I swear I could hear it even though it was impossible. I shielded my eyes from the sun as I examined my ball. It rolled slightly, heading right for the hole. Then it dropped inside. I smiled to myself, proud of my golfing abilities.

Take that, Dad.

“Did you just make that shot?” Rhett asked in surprise. His eyes were wide and his jaw was hanging.

“Yep.” I put the driver over one shoulder and put one hand on my hip. “Watch out, Tiger Woods.”

“That was amazing.” Rhett couldn’t control his shock. “I’ve never seen that happen in my life, except at the Masters Tournaments. How did you…?” He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. “I’m sorry.” He put down his club and started to clap. “That deserves a round of applause.”

Rhett was already making this day better. At least he acknowledged my accomplishments and acted like they actually mattered. Dad was never impressed with anything I did. I could win the Nobel Prize and he wouldn’t give a damn.

“Isn’t that amazing, sir?” Rhett asked. “You raised a fine daughter.”

“Yeah…” He pressed his lips together like they were chapped. “She’s a decent golfer for a woman.”

“For a woman?” Rhett asked incredulously. I could tell he was combating his anger, sick of the way my father treated me like garbage. The fact I didn’t have a penis dangling between my legs somehow made me worthless. “She’s a great golfer—period.”

I put my hand on his arm, silently reminding him why I hired him in the first place.

Dad put his ball down and got ready to swing. “The first hole is always the easiest one.”

Rhett took a deep breath but didn’t explode. He did a great job hiding his irritation, but I could tell he was struggling. The more time he spent with my father, the more his tolerance started to wane. I wasn’t sure how I put up with it my entire life.

Dad made his swing and the ball glided across the course. It landed near the flag but didn’t sink in.

“So much for it being the easiest hole…” Rhett muttered under his breath.

I squeezed his arm again.

He sighed then put his ball down and made his hit.

The afternoon was spent with them bonding while I stood there awkwardly and tried to decide what color to paint my nails. Pink? Nah, I did that color last time. French tips? But that was so old…

When the game was over and scores were tallied, I was in the lead by five points. Rhett came in second, and of course, Dad came in last.

“Good game.” Dad shook Rhett’s hand. “You have a great swing. Who taught you to golf?”

“My uncle.”

“He must be a fine golfer.”

“He does alright,” Rhett said with a smile. “Nothing compared to me.”

Dad chuckled. “We need to do this again sometime. It’s nice to play with someone who knows their way around the course.”

Uh, hello? Do I not exist?

Rhett gave me a sad look but didn’t voice his thoughts.

When we returned to the office, my shift was long over. I’d have more work to do tomorrow, but I refused to go back in there and pick up where I left off. I had enough of the office for one day.

“Thank you for inviting me, sir.” Rhett shook Dad’s hand.

“Of course,” he said. “I want to see more of you. You’re a fine young man.”

“Why, thank you, sir,” Rhett said gracefully. “That means a lot.”

Dad nodded to me without speaking then got back into his car and drove away.

Rhett gave me a look of admiration when Dad was down the street. “How do you not poison his scotch?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. But I’m asking for a raise tomorrow.”

***

After we returned his clubs to his trunk, we headed to the nearest ice cream parlor. I needed a big-ass sundae, like, right this second.

After we sat down with our treats, Rhett spoke. “Where did you learn to golf like that? You obviously didn’t learn from your father.”

“I hired a golf pro a few years ago. It’s a long story.” I shoveled the ice cream into my mouth, grateful for the cool, crisp taste.

“I’m yours for the afternoon so I have the time.” He ate his ice cream slowly, like he wasn’t really hungry. He probably just came because he knew I needed something fattening in my stomach pronto.

“Well, this was years ago when I was stupid,” I said bluntly.

“Stupid?” he asked with a hint of a smile. “You don’t strike me as the stupid type.”

“Wait to cast judgment until you hear the story. Believe me, you’ll think I’m stupid when I’m finished.”

“I’m still skeptical but I’ll keep an open mind.” His blue eyes looked into my face, waiting to hear the story. They were so deep that I wanted to fall inside and never crawl out.

“Years ago, I was at a point in my life when I was desperate for his approval. I would get his coffee before he asked for it, work overtime every day just so he wouldn’t have to lift a finger, and I went above and beyond to make this man notice me. Since he loves golf so much, I assumed if I impressed him with my skills, he would pay more attention to me. Then he would invite me to golf with him and it could be an activity we did together.”

His eyes softened while he listened to me, and I knew he pitied me.

“So, I paid someone to teach me. I practiced every day, and he praised me as I got better. It came to a point where he had nothing left to teach me. He said if my father wasn’t impressed, he was totally blind.”

“Then what happened?” he asked quietly.

“I invited my dad golfing, and after he saw me play, he asked if I was a dyke.”

His eyes widened then narrowed in confusion. “Sorry?”

It was such a ridiculous thing to say. I didn’t blame Rhett for being completely confused by it. “He asked if I was a dyke or a lesbian. Why would I be so good at a man’s game unless I was trying to be a man myself?” I shook my head in disapproval. “A woman good at sports? Oh, there must be something wrong with her then. He’s despicable. Sometimes I wish he would crash in that stupid car of his and die.” I realized my words after I said them and guilt washed through me. It was such a cold thing to say and I felt terrible. I let my anger get carried away. “I didn’t mean that…I take it back.”

Rhett stopped eating his ice cream and gave me all his focus. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t take it back.”

“My father has his flaws and there are a million things I hate about him but…he’s never hurt me physically and he hasn’t killed anyone so he doesn’t deserve that.”

“Evil doesn’t come in black and white. It comes in shades of gray.”

I was grateful Rhett was so understanding. I knew how ugly I was being right then.

“He doesn’t treat you right and you don’t deserve that,” he said seriously. “I hope he realizes that someday.”

“He never will.” There wasn’t a doubt in my mind.

“Sometimes only catastrophic events are strong enough to change someone’s way of thinking.”

“If I was lying in the hospital from a terrible accident, he wouldn’t blink an eye over it. He wouldn’t even visit me.” I pretended to be indifferent to the words I was saying, but as I said them, I felt terrible. And I knew it was because everything I said was true. “If I didn’t care about this company so damn much, I would never speak to him again. He wouldn’t call me either.”

“I wish there was something I could do.” His voice came out quiet and hollow, like he was in as much pain as I was.

“You’re already doing it, Rhett. You’re already in his good graces. He even told me this afternoon that he ‘doesn’t understand how I landed you.’” I got a chunk of fudge on my spoon and shoved it into my mouth like I was starving.

“Who the hell says that to his daughter?” he demanded. “You’re so amazing. What man wouldn’t be proud to call you his daughter?” An incredulous look came into his eyes and he dropped his gaze.

“Beats me…”

“Sometimes it’s hard to believe that people have such a weird way of thinking. Why your father treats you that way is beyond my understanding. It makes me wonder why he is the way he is.”

I’d never thought about it. To me, he was just born an ass.

“Do you have any theories?” he asked.

“About what?” I asked.

“Why he behaves that way.”

I swirled the nuts around in my cup. “I’ve never given it much thought. I know he grew up poor and made his own way in life. But I would assume that would make him humble, not a monster. I never knew my grandparents, so maybe they were abusive to him or something.”

“Maybe you should ask him…”

“My father and I never discuss anything besides work. It’s just not possible for us to talk about anything else.”

“What was your mom like?”

I didn’t like thinking about her, but not because I disliked her. She was an amazing woman, and I still missed her every day. She was warm and always made me feel loved. But that was why I didn’t like to think about her. Because I missed her so much. “She was the best mom in the whole world.”

He regarded me seriously. “I’m glad you had her to balance out your father.”

“Yeah…she was great.” I stared at my ice cream and suddenly lost my appetite.

“Was he like that when she was around?”

“I wasn’t working with him when she was alive so I didn’t know him as well. He was never around, always working. We never had a relationship and he never tried to have one. When I got older, that’s when he took it upon himself to insult me at every given opportunity.”

He considered my words for a long time. “Everyone’s behavior is based on experience and emotions. There has to be a reason why he is the way he is. Hopefully, you find the answer someday.”

Talking about my parents was making me depressed. “Tell me something happy.”

“You want to hear a joke?”

“Yes, please.”

“You’re a brunette so I can tell you this one.”

“Oh, this should be good…”

“An old, blind cowboy wanders into an all-girl biker bar by mistake. He finds his way to the bar and orders a shot of whiskey. After sitting there for a while, he yells to the bartender, “’Hey, do you wanna hear a blonde joke?’” The bar immediately falls absolutely silent. In a very deep, husky voice, the woman next to him says, “’Before you tell that joke, I think it’s only fair you should know five things since you’re blind. One, the bartender is a blonde girl with a baseball bat. Two, the bouncer is a blonde girl with a Billy Club. Three, I’m a six-foot, one hundred seventy pound blonde woman with a black belt in karate. Four, the woman to your right is a blonde professional wrestler. And five, the person to my right is a blonde weight lifter. Now think seriously, cowboy…do you still want to tell that blonde joke?’” The cowboy thinks for a second then shakes his head and says, “’No, not if I’m gonna have to explain it five times…’”