Page 2

Chapter 2

That’s legal 101

Callie

My head whipped up to see who was talking. How had I not heard him approaching? A tall man, with blue eyes and blond hair, wearing a tux that looked made for him, hands shoved in his pants pockets. He was gorgeous and vaguely familiar.

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you talking to me?”

He smiled, showing a dimple, confidence oozing out of every pore. He and Benson—did they take classes to learn that? He clearly expected the smile was going to get him something. I crossed my arms and frowned.

He waved his hand around us, since for the moment there was no one else within ten meters. “Yes, I’m talking to you.”

“What do you want?”

“You heard me. I want to help you.”

Was he a client, or one of the hockey players? He was certainly tall and fit enough. Better to be careful with what I said. “What do you think I need help with?” I forced a polite smile while I tried to work it out, but I didn’t think I succeeded.

“Golf lessons.”

I stiffened. I could see where this conversation was going, and that was a hard no. With his large body between me and the room, he’d made a private corner for us to talk. Yeah, the dress was a mistake.

Then he added, “And country club lessons.”

Shit. I needed that. Benson had been right, and this guy knew it. Not hard to guess what he wanted in return. Still, in case he was a client, I couldn’t tell him to fuck off the way I’d like to. “I’m not having sex with you.”

Instead of getting angry or offended, he just smiled more. Another dimple popped out. “See, you’ve just proven my point. Golf doesn’t include sex on the greens.” He pursed his lips for a moment, losing the dimples. “At the country club, maybe, but it’s optional.”

Part of me wanted to laugh, but I still didn’t trust where this was going. “I’m not going to have sex with you in return for any kind of lesson.”

Something flashed in his eyes, and his mouth turned down. “That’s not what I’m offering.”

Oh now, with the frown, I placed him. He had a kind of sexy frown on his face in the billboards that were plastered across the city. No dimples. This was Cooper. Captain of the Toronto Blaze. The man everyone wanted to meet. I raised an eyebrow. He wanted something. No one made an offer like that out of the pure goodness of their heart. I waited, and he rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t like the way that smug asshole talked to you. I’m offering to give you lessons in playing golf, and since I belong to Briarwood I can also show you the ropes around the clubhouse.”

Excitement fizzled in my chest. What the— That would be perfect. I imagined Benson’s face if I showed up, competent at golf and able to navigate the club. I’d do a lot for that…

Yeah, experience told me there would be strings. “What do you get out of it? Do you know Benson? You want to get back at him?”

“Never met him, but I know his type. Not a fan.”

“Then why would you do this?”

He looked over his shoulder, but no one was that close. Looking this way, yes, but not within hearing distance.

“I need a date.”

I tried, really hard, not to laugh. He looked sincere, but someone that good-looking could be a serial killer and he’d still have women begging to go out with him. This guy needed a date? With someone like me? I broke into a snort of laughter and had to cover my mouth with a hand before everyone turned to look at us.

I got myself under control. He was still smiling. Maybe this was some kind of prank?

“No, seriously,” I said when I could finally speak.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I was serious. I still need a date.”

He should be giving up by now. “Is this some kind of joke to you?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you don’t need to barter golf lessons to get a date.”

He raised his eyebrows. “So, you want to go out with me?”

What? “No!”

“Then I guess I do have to barter golf lessons.”

I wasn’t laughing anymore. I crossed my arms again. “You get lots of ‘dates,’ I’m sure.”

He shrugged. “True. But not what I need.”

“I don’t know what you need, but the answer is no.”

He wagged a finger at me and I wanted to snap it off. “You should hear what I’m offering before you turn down the deal. That’s legal 101. I need a date to my sister’s wedding.”

I blinked. What the hell? “A date to your sister’s wedding. Right. Is the wedding in Antarctica?”

“No, Connecticut. Bringing a lawyer would be perfect. But if I invite a woman to my sister’s wedding, she’s going to have certain…expectations.”

I bit my lip. That was something I could actually believe. If Cooper wanted to avoid romantic entanglements, maybe he did want a date he could control. Make sure she wasn’t posting stupid shit on social media about them being serious together. Those looks, money, that charm he was throwing out like it was trash? Some people wanted that.

No sex, he’d said. A date to a wedding. This sounded like one of Darcy’s romance novels. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

He shook his head. “No, I want you to come as my friend.”

That made me feel…warm and sad at the same time. I didn’t have many friends. Would this guy, with his perfect clothes and perfect world, have anything in common with me? “But we’re not friends.”

Full smile again. “We will be after I show you how to play golf.”

Out of nowhere, an image popped into my brain. Cooper and me, on the deck I’d seen in pictures of Briarwood, laughing and talking. He’d smile, for real, and I’d…

No. That wasn’t happening, and I should just say no, right now. That charm was potent.

He studied me, as if he could read my mind. “How about I give you a lesson or two, you see how it goes, and then, after I’ve proved that I’m not a lunatic, we can make it official.”

“Official?”

“I’ll send in the RSVP.”

This was a crazy idea, and I didn’t do crazy, not anymore. I bit my lip as I weighed the undoubted benefits against the risk to my mental health.

Behind Cooper’s shoulder, I saw Benson, talking to one of the partners. They were both laughing. Something I couldn’t do. When it came to hard work and knowledge and ability, I was perfect partner material. But all this other networking, making-connections bullshit? I was terrible at it.

“I should introduce myself. I’m Cooper. I play for the Blaze.” He held out his hand.

This was the guy who was supposed to make me like hockey. I faked a smile and shook his hand, making sure my grip was firm but not so firm it was threatening. He’d have won a dominance contest, his hand callused and strong. Warm. For a moment, I forgot to pull my own away.

I cleared my throat. “I know who you are.”

“I don’t know who you are though.”

I’d opened my mouth to answer when a voice broke through. “Calliope! There you are.”

A blush warmed my cheeks. Damned fair skin and freckles. I quickly jerked my hand back. What did this look like, standing in a corner holding hands with the hockey player? “Mr. Anderson.” He was the partner who oversaw the tax department of the firm. His silver hair was perfectly coiffed, and his suit looked expensive. Like Cooper’s.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Of course.” If Anderson wanted me, I was there. Introducing me to someone at the event? Yes.

He waved a hand. “Finish your conversation. We’re at table three. Stop by when you’re ready. Thanks for coming tonight, Cooper. I’m sure you and your teammates are making this a success.”

I should say…I didn’t know what. Partners normally expected associates to jump when they called. He was still smiling at Cooper though. Holy fuck. He thought Cooper and I were…something. And he didn’t look pissed. He looked impressed.

“Of course, Mr. Anderson. I’ll be there in just a minute.”

I was still working through that when Cooper interrupted my thoughts. “See? Just talking to me is impressing your boss. Imagine what taking lessons together would do.”

If anyone knew how to navigate these social waters, it was this man in front of me. I still wasn’t sure what he was up to and what other motives he might have, but this, even if it ended up being just one lesson? It would be more valuable than lessons with the golf pro.

“Okay. We can give this a try. You need a friend date for your wedding who won’t assume that means anything. I need to fit in for the partners’ golf tournament, and you won’t assume anything.”

His grin this time was less charming, less perfect. But no less effective. “What’s your number?”

I hesitated. This was a risk. There were too many unknowns, and I didn’t want to ignore my instincts simply because there could be a lot of upside. But one lesson…that wasn’t a lifetime commitment.

He pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and I gave him my personal number.

“I’ll message you this week, Calliope.”

I shook my head. “Callie, please.”

“Callie.” He changed something on his phone. “Oh, and one other thing.”

I tensed. Was this the poison pill?

“For the wedding?”

I nodded, warily.

“I pick the dress. That thing you’re wearing? Is a disaster.”

Then he walked away, leaving me to question whether I could find something else to wear before meeting this someone with Mr. Anderson. Shit.