Kiss My Putt (Summersweet Island 1)

Two nights ago, when I was getting ready for my first date with Birdie, I called my accountant, the only member of my team I didn’t fire, to have him pull some funds so I could put an offer in on a permanent cottage on the island that recently went up for sale. A cottage Birdie had told me on numerous occasions over the years that it had a walk-in closet to die for, because the last time it was up for sale, she checked out the listing online and drooled over the photos. The minute I was inside Birdie and her body felt more like home than even this island ever had, I knew that wherever she was is where I needed to be.

And then my accountant took my call and got all snippy with me that he’d been trying to reach me, and I hadn’t been returning his emails or voicemails. Birdie told me about his emails asking me to call him ASAP, and I’ll admit I’d been dodging his calls and ignoring his messages. As soon as I got to Summersweet, I just didn’t want to deal with anything business-related, and I assumed he needed me to sign some routine paperwork or something stupid that could wait. I shut it all off and pushed it aside until my head was a little clearer. I planned on calling him later in the week, but when my mind had been made up about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, and that was to semi-retire and spend as much time as humanly possible here on this island and between Birdie’s thighs, I picked up the phone while my shower water warmed up and made what I thought would be a quick call to him.

Thank God for my date with Birdie after that call and for that email about The San Francisco Open, or I would have curled up in the fetal position on the floor of the shower and cried like a baby the rest of the night. Actually, I’d probably still be crying on the floor of my shower if it weren’t for Birdie. As soon as she opened the door to the cottage when I picked her up for our date and I wrapped my arms around her and breathed her in, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and just got excited about the possibility of playing in another tournament so soon. I could make enough money that Birdie would never have to know what an idiot she’s with.

“I’ll stop teasing you now, because you’re not flat-broke. You still have money coming in,” Bodhi reminds me.

I snort, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms to stare out over the deck railing at the darkness of the ocean and the dots of lights out in the distance of passing ships.

“I have just enough money coming in from old endorsement royalties to pay for the mortgages on the three stupid rental properties I have, that each have iron-clad leases I can’t get out of for another ten months. Those stupid things are funneling out money faster than it goes into my account. I had two different lawyers look into the leases yesterday, and there’s nothing I can do, and I can’t even sublet them to make money on them while I’m not there.” I sigh.

They said there’s also nothing I can do about the bad investments my father made months ago that I knew nothing about that damn near drained all my accounts, since he was the executor of everything and could make whatever decisions he wanted with my money. Which up until recently were always amazing decisions. And now I can barely afford to rent the fucking cottage I’m in right now, let alone buy a bigger one with more closet space for Birdie’s clothes and shoes. Not to mention my position at SIG came to an end already. It was only a temporary job and a favor Greg did for me to get close to Birdie until the golf pro he had already promised the job to could get into town, but I hoped to keep getting that paycheck for at least a few more weeks, as small as it was, considering SIG isn’t a huge resort course on the mainland that rakes in the dough.

The only thing the lawyers could do was take my father’s name off everything so I could start over. They asked me if I wanted to sue him. Yeah, because that will make the public love me even more, get me reinvited to more tournaments, and get new endorsements so I can put more money away. “Pal Campbell sues loving father who only wanted the best for him and gave up his life so his son could be a star. News about this greedy bastard at 11.”