Page 58 of Pros Don't

I shrug. “I try. That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t turn down the money. She needs regular physical therapy, but she and my dad don’t have a lot of savings, and my dad has always been self-employed, so insurance is of minimal help. They worked hard my whole life, but we had some things come up that set them back financially, and so now I help them out. What you pay me to coach you goes a long way, but the therapy is expensive, so theMEMmoney gave me the security of knowing I could help my mom for a long time.”

Holland’s gaze bores in to me. He slowly nods. “You’re a good daughter.”

My cheeks heat. “You said that already.”

“Just making sure you know it’s true.”

I chuckle. “Well, thanks.”

We’re quiet for a minute, and I worry that maybe I overshared.

“If there’s ever anything I can do to help. Please, let me—“

“No,” I cut him off. “That’s very kind, and I appreciate it. But I don’t want handouts. I can work, and I’m good at what I do.”

“You are.”

I smile, a warmth from his praise spreading out from my chest and making my whole body melt.

“That’s why I’ve always kept things professional with you. I need the money, and I can’t have anyone in the industry calling in to question my skill set. My work is too important to me and my family. I can’t let anything jeopardize that.”

He mulls that over. “That explains why you’re all golf, all the time.

“Pretty much.”

“Do you let yourself have any fun? With friends? A boyfriend?” Holland says it in a way that’s light and breezy, but his stare is intense.

“My fun consists of spending time with my parents and my aunt. My travel schedule with you doesn’t leave a lot of room for me to see friends, much less a boyfriend. Someday, I hope. But, I’m focused on building up a nest egg so my parents can breathe easier. I’m sort of one-track-minded, and I can’t afford to let anything derail my efforts. So no…no boyfriend right now. I’ll leave the romantic relationships to you. One relationship is enough in our partnership, don’t you think?”

He doesn’t respond, just closes his eyes and leans his head back.

I do the same.

“I’m glad you told me,” he says after a while. “For the record, you can coach me as long as you want. I’ll always pay you what you’re worth, which is a lot.”

I chuckle and glance over at him. “I appreciate that. I want to do a good job for you, Holland.”

He blinks and opens his eyes. “You do.”

I nod. “I’m going to go back to bed. I think rest is the best way for me to kick this bug.”

“Sounds good.”

I stand from the couch, and Holland follows me.

“I’ve got an extra toothbrush from the dentist somewhere around here.” He follows me into the room I napped in and opens the door on the far side, which reveals a small en suite.

I look around the room clearly for the first time. There’s a dresser with a drawer partially opened. T-shirts are folded neatly inside. There’s a hanging rack for baseball caps on the door to the bathroom. A sweatshirt is tossed over the side of the chair in the corner. This doesn’t look anything like a guest bedroom. It looks like a bedroom that’s lived in. That’s used frequently. Like every day. By Holland.

He emerges from the bathroom. “I set the toothbrush next to the sink for you.”

He crosses to the dresser and tugs open the top drawer, grabbing a pair of flannel pajama pants out of it.

“Bradley,” I say between my teeth, “is this your bedroom?”

He looks over his shoulder at me. “Yeah.” He turns. “What’s with that face?”

“Why did you let me sleep in your bed?” My voice rises with each word. This is bad for me. Really bad.

---