Page 82 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

“Call me Jax,” I requested. “Cillian is a street thug without the balls to take on a big dog.”

“And are you the big dog?”

“The biggest.”

She laughed, and we talked some more about my plan to save Ballybeg.

“The city council is afraid of scandal, and I think with the interviews and social media push you’ve planned, they will feel the pinch.”

“And how about the protest?” I asked.

She thought about it for a moment. “I think it needs to be more than Ballybeg. Look, there are several villages like Ballybeg in County Clare. Some are ripe for takeovers as rural economies struggle and the young leave for Dublin or Cork. We need to help these communities thrive, not rape their land and throw the villagers out of their homes.” She picked up her phone again and read through a few things. “How about I send you a list of key people who, like Dee Gallagher, are invested in their communities? If all these villages take a stand together, then not only do we save Ballybeg, but we also prevent other villages from being destroyed by greed.”

“I like how you think, Fiona.”

We discussed the matter further, and Fiona promised to keep in touch. I liked her. She was sincere without being smarmy, practical without being greedy, and a good listener.

After the meeting, as I was walking to my car, I saw a jewelry store. In the window display, I saw an emerald ring; it came as a set with earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet. The green of the precious stones reminded me of Dee’s eyes.

Before I could go inside, I was face to face with Cillian and Aoife.

“Well, well.” His grin stretched across his face. “If it isn’t the PGA golden boy himself. Come to Cork for a taste of real civilization?”

I clenched my jaw, forcing a tight smile. “Cillian.” I kept my tone neutral. “What a surprise and not a pleasant one at all to see you here.”

Aoife looked up then, her perfectly arched eyebrows rising.

“Jax Caldwell,” she said sweetly, though her tone dripped with venom. “Still playing the hero in Ballybeg, are you?”

“I’m no hero, Aoife, just a golf golden boy,” I replied dryly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?—”

“You can’t save Ballybeg.” Cillian put his hand on my arm to stop me from walking away.

“If you want to keep that hand, you’ll take it off my body,” I threatened. There was only one way to treat a bully, you had to show him who was the bigger dog in the fight.

He did as I asked but didn’t step away. “I have this deal nailed, and when I buy that land of hers, you’ll?—”

“How will you buy the land?” I drawled lazily.

“She can’t afford the taxes.”

“But I can.” I smiled. “I can afford to not only pay her taxes, which I have, you should check with the revenue office—I can afford to pay taxes for the whole village.”

He went pale as if he couldn’t believe what I’d said.

“Why would you pay Dee’s taxes?” Aoife looked at me, confused.

Now was a good time as any to make the announcement, I thought, since I’d now found a ring to propose to her with. “Because she’s going to be my wife very soon, Aoife.”

Now, it was her turn to go pale.

“You’re going to marry her?” Cillian looked dazed. “Why the feck would you marry that bitch?”

“Now, why would you speak of my future wife like that, Cillian, unless you want me to shove my shoe up your ass?”

“I can make this work without her farm,” he said bitterly.

“I don’t think so,” I said confidently. “It was in poor taste going after your own village.”

---