Page 25

Pinkygate

Mallory

H olland is prattling on and on to Vivian and Callen on the front porch of Daisy’s Inn, and I make my move.

Slowly and steadily, I open the back door of his car and slither to the ground.

The grass is damp from morning dew, but I ignore the dampness that presses through my leggings.

I don’t shut the car door all the way behind me.

I can’t risk extra noise. It is absurd how quickly my heart is thumping around in my chest.

How did I get here?

Oh, yeah. A reality TV show. A truck load of money. And a head cold.

I crawl like I’m an alligator, arms pulling me across the ground and legs following behind until I make it around the side of the building. Then I stand and sprint to the kitchen. Daisy is at the sink and spots me through the window.

“I wondered when I’d see you,” she says with a smile as she lets me in. “Quick. Right this way.” She unties her apron and leads me to a door on the far side of the food-prep space. She flips a latch and opens the door to reveal a dusty, dimly lit set of stairs.

“Where does this lead?” Not that I don’t trust Daisy, but this looks like a scene from a Nancy Drew book, and quite frankly, I don’t think my heart can handle any boogie men jumping out and trying to get me this morning. I’ve already put my nervous system through the wringer.

“Right to your room.” Daisy beams. “Remember how I told you you’re staying in the old owner’s quarters.

Comes with quite the perk, I’d say, wouldn’t you?

” She shoos me up the steps. “The door at the top will lead you to the entrance that’s right alongside your closet.

I hope you don’t mind, dear, but I snuck into your room earlier this morning and took the liberty of unlocking it from the inside, so you won’t have any issues. ”

I could hug the woman. This feels like the first thing that’s gone right for me in two days. “Thank you so much, Daisy. I owe you one.”

She waves me off. “Happy to help out our Holland and his favorite golf coach.” She leans in. “Did you two have a nice evening together?”

“If by nice you mean I passed out in his bed, thanks to cold medicine and a killer headache, then sure.” I look at Daisy. “I’m afraid everyone around town has the wrong impression of our relationship.”

She pats my shoulder gently. “Or maybe we’re seeing things that you haven’t quite seen yet. Old age will do that to a person. Provides us with some insight, if I do say.”

I can’t help but smile. “You don’t look a day older than forty, Daisy.”

She laughs a tinkling laugh. “And you’re full of it, dear. Now hurry yourself up. I overheard production saying that they plan to have the girls knock on your door to get you up at seven thirty. Filming starts at seven forty-five, so you better hustle if you want to freshen up.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I turn to ascend the stairs, but then I pause, pivot back to her, and give her a quick hug.

“Oh!” Her arms come up around me, and I have the inexplicable urge to cry. I miss my mom terribly, and I’m so exhausted by all of this I don’t know if I’m coming or going.

My muddled feelings where Holland is concerned aren’t helping me at all.

My mind is completely crowded with what my head knows I should do—build up the walls around my heart and mind, keep my focus on coaching him to victories, secure the paycheck I’ve earned from him and from this show, leave it at that—and what I fear my heart is teetering on the brink of—opening up to him even more, kissing him again but this time not to prove that I don’t like him, but to see if, in fact, I actually do.

You can’t do that .

The voice in my head sounds a lot like Aunt Jo. I need her stern reminder. I need to remember what happened the last time I mixed business and pleasure. I need to remember my parents, who I need to support. All those things matter a lot more than some fleeting attraction I’m feeling to Holland.

I let go of Daisy, and she gives my shoulder a squeeze. “It’ll all work out,” she says.

I nod, wishing I had her confidence. I take the steps two at a time and let myself into my room. I shut the secret staircase door behind me and lean against it. I give myself one minute to stay there. Man, do I wish I could curl up in my neatly made bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

But then I catch sight of my pale, make-up free face in the mirror above the chest, and that kicks me into gear.

Checking the clock, I know I don’t have time for a full shower.

I jog to the dresser and find something casual but clean to wear, deciding to go with joggers and tennis shoes and a cropped pullover.

This way, I can wear a baseball cap and have it look intentional, not like I’m covering up greasy hair.

I kick off the clothes I’ve been wearing since yesterday morning and hustle to put myself together. I’m swiping on a quick layer of lip gloss when there’s a knock on my door.

“Mallory!” Jennah’s voice rings out. “You up?”

“We’ve come to summon you downstairs.” That’s Zelda. “Holland’s here!” Her voice pitches higher, and the two women giggle.

“Be right there.” I toss my lip gloss on the dresser and cross the room to the door, tugging it open.

“Hi!” Zelda and Jennah chorus .

Cece steps forward and hooks me up to a mic pac. She motions for the cameraman to get into better position when she’s done. “Alright, ladies, carry on.”

I nod, summoning my most cheerful expression. “Let me grab some lip balm and tissues,” I tell Zelda and Jennah. I cross to the bedside table to collect my things.

When I turn around, both women are scrutinizing my room.

I glance around. The clothes I kicked off are in a heap at the foot of my made bed, and my cell phone is resting on the corner of the mattress, not hidden under the pillows where I usually stow it.

My pulse starts to race as I step in front of it, grabbing the clothes and tossing them on the bed to cover up my phone, before turning to the women with a forced smile. “All set.”

They step back and fix smiles on their faces.

If I had to bet, it’s because of the cameraman capturing our every movement.

I’m immediately tense. I didn’t miss that aspect of things when I was holed up at Holland’s, and I didn’t realize what a luxury it was to go an entire day without being mic’d up.

Jennah and Zelda are both wearing short dresses that, in my humble opinion, look entirely out of place for an early morning rendezvous with Holland, but I have to admit they look gorgeous and put together. I glance down at my athleisure and shrug. “You ladies put me to shame.”

“You look great,” Jennah oozes, grabbing for my hand.

The cameras are rolling behind her, and she smiles sweetly as she pulls me out into the hallway.

Jennah doesn’t actually like me. She and Michelle were the two most concerned with my working relationship with Holland from the get go.

I’m sure she still sees me as competition.

I tell myself to stop being so jaded as I think about how this is all for show.

I pull the door closed behind me as the two women link their arms with mine. “How’re you feeling?” Zelda asks.

“Better today,” I admit .

“You didn’t miss much yesterday,” Jennah says. “Holland sent Belle home.”

“Yeah,” I say absently, and when their two heads immediately swivel in my direction, I realize my mistake.

“How did you know that?” Gone is Jennah’s sweet smile. She narrows her gaze at me. This is more the behavior I’d expect from her, sadly. Zelda looks confused.

Dang it.

All that alligator crawling and the car situation where I ended up in Holland’s lap—a moment I am actively trying not to dwell on—is going to be for nothing if I blow my own cover by not thinking before I speak.

“What? Oh. No. I didn’t.” I clear my throat. “I meant, oh yeah? Like a question.”

“Oh,” Zelda says after a second. Of the two women, I feel like she’s more likely to give me the benefit of the doubt. We bonded on our mini-golf date. “Well, anyway. It makes sense, right? She was a little over the top for him, don’t you think?”

“She was super nice,” I defend. Because for all Belle’s faults, she knew who she was, and she was that entirely. I don’t know that I could say the same.

Both girls roll their eyes at me. “Look at you, acting all neutral,” Jennah says, and now her voice is dripping with condescension. “You can be honest. Belle was a trip.”

I shrug noncommittally, and I’m so grateful to have made it to the hearth room.

The rest of the women are standing in a small circle, talking to Holland.

Mindy Sue and Britt are facing the staircase, near the fireplace, and they wave me over.

My heart pinches with affection and relief at the sight of them.

They don’t hold my working relationship with Holland against me, and they’ve turned out to be good friends over the past few days.

I wish they had been the ones to come and get me this morning.

I wonder how that was decided. Vivian is standing in the corner, and I feel her eyes on me as the three of us head toward the fireplace. Something tells me she had something to do with Jennah and Zelda’s assignment.

“You’re upright.” Mindy Sue leans in and gives me a hug.

“I am. But don’t get too close.” I keep her at arm’s length. “I don’t want to pass this on.”

“Have you kissed Holland lately?” Britt’s question is so abrupt I choke on my own spit and start coughing.

“I’m sorry, what? “ I ask, recovering myself. I’m acutely aware of both Zelda and Jennah frowning in my periphery.

Britt seems oblivious. She shrugs. “I’m thinking he’d be the one who had the most to be concerned about if you were swapping spit with him. He’s got his tournament coming up.”

“Right. Yeah. I mean, no. No kissing between Holland and me. I mean, not yet at least.” I laugh nervously, knowing that’s a lie, and the only person I have to blame for our golf cart kiss is myself.

I don’t dare meet Holland’s gaze, though I can imagine his brown eyes are twinkling with delight at my expense.

I square my shoulders. “He should be all good in terms of staying healthy—at least in regard to me.”

The lies I spewed sit all wrong on my tongue, and a vine of guilt grows up my spine.

I don’t want to be dishonest with my new friends, but I’ve got to save face here, right?

Also, if Holland comes down with this virus ahead of the Grand Masters, I’ll never forgive myself.

I say a silent prayer that he wasn’t kidding when he said he has a solid immune system.

And then all coherent thought flees my mind when I feel his pinky finger brush against mine.

A chill shoots down the length of my spine, and fire simultaneously licks its way up the back of my neck.

All the hairs come alive on my skin, and I don’t dare look down because I’m not going to draw attention to it.

I shift my hand slightly, thinking it was probably a mistake.

But a moment later, his finger is back, grazing mine and causing a thousand tiny shooting stars to fly through my head.