Page 29 of Pickled
“A banger?” I raised my eyebrows.
She shut off the engine. “It’s a compliment. It’s someone who hits the ball hard.”
“You can hit it hard? That’s possible?”
“Come on, dilly pickler Piper.” She patted my bare thigh. “It’s time for you to eat your words.”
I laughed. “The only thing I’m going to eat are some real dill picklers.” My stomach growled at the idea of a salty snack. My electrolytes were low. Hydration had been the last thing on my mind last night.
The younger girls scampered ahead, and Ariana walked with us. Lisa was right—I was going to be open-minded. This was what I needed. To laugh with a friend, spend time with my daughter, and not worry about a man.
“That’s a nice vintage Porsche.” Lisa shielded her eyes and pointed to a familiar black convertible. “It reminds me of the one David Duchovny drove inCalifornication.”
“I haven’t seen that show.” I shrugged, trying to keep cool. The last thing I needed was to run into Gideon Bailey. Scratch that. The last thing I needed was to run into Gideon Bailey while I was playing… pickleball.
11
GIDEON
The course designer’spink flower budget at Azalea Bay Club must have been astronomical. Branches laden with flamingo-hued flowers lined the pathway and draped over the gazebo of the clubhouse’s bag drop. Even for me, a plant guy, it was a bit much. A well-dressed staff member, a kid who couldn’t have been older than sixteen, paused from sweeping up mountains of pink petals to take our bags from the cart.
I got out of the cart, groaning as I stretched my arms to the sky.
Riley came over and patted my back a little too aggressively. “Good game, Bailman.” I bristled but let it go. Then he continued patting my back like I was in line at TSA.
“What are you doing?” I shrugged away from him.
“I’m looking for the shark fin that you’re hiding under there.” I relaxed. His grin was genuine, and the shark line was kind of endearing. And I did have a pocket full of hundred-dollar bills that were mostly his.
“Talk to Jameson. He was the one who suggested playing for money.” I shoved him playfully. “It’s actually a barracuda fin.”
“Do they even have fins?” Owens’ forehead furrowed. It was a good question. Everyone shrugged. The fish was on our damn logo. How could none of us know whether or not they had dorsal fins?
Loaded up with four bags of clubs, the kid paused. “They have two dorsal fins, and they’re kinda spiny.”
We all turned to look at him. The kid’s face went the same shade as the petals hanging above his head. Small talk wasn’t encouraged between staff and players, unless it was about golf or member initiated. I thought that it was a stupid rule and felt for the guy. “Good to know.” I smiled and raised my hand for a high five.
His shoulders relaxed as he returned it. “Did you have a good game?” he asked.
“Do yourself a favor, and don’t ever play Giddy for money.” Owens laughed. “I lost my shirt.”
The kid’s eyes tracked over us. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that he recognized us and that we made him nervous. His name tag glinted in the sunlight, and I squinted to make out his name, Matt. “I’ll bet you that Matty could outdrive us all. What’s your longest drive?” I asked
Matt shifted in his Sperry Top-siders. “I’ve hit two-eighty.”
“See?” I clapped the kid on the shoulder. “This is the real shark.” It was a very reputable drive length. “Give Matty a couple of years, and he will be on the PGA tour.” Matt looked up at me with a lopsided grin and stood a little taller. When he finishedloading our cars, I slipped him a hundred-dollar bill. Growing up, I didn’t get much praise from my dad, so I chose to dole it out to deserving kids when I could.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Bailey. Have a nice day, Mr. Jameson, Mr. Riley, and Mr. Owens.”
We weren’t the biggest celebrities at the Azalea Bay Club or the richest, but I was a teenage boy once, and if I’d met my hockey idol, Alexander Ovechkin, I’d have been starstruck too.
“Are you going to buy us a round of drinks? Shark man? I mean, Spiny Fin Man?” Riles asked.
I chuckled. “That’s even worse than Giddy.” I winced as I rubbed my lower back. Whether it was bending Piper into a pretzel all night or the golfing, neither activity had been good for my back. Who was I kidding? Tossing Piper around took way more energy than the four-hour round of golf. I was spent. “My brother is coming into town. I don’t have time.”
Owens blinked. “Ace?”
“Yeah. I’ve only got one brother.”
