Authors: Mara Jacobs
He felt Katie at his elbow. “That won’t be necessary,” she said to the hotel clerk. She looked at him, her eyes huge, blue pools. She raised her perfectly arched brows. “Will it?”
“You know it is a room, not a suite?” he asked, not wanting any misunderstandings.
She nodded. “I got that part.”
He turned to the confused hotel clerk. “One room will be fine. Thank you.”
The clerk sighed in relief. “Great, because, much as we feel honored to have you with us Mr.
Luna
, there simply isn’t another room to be had. In all of Akron, really.”
Darío
’s hand shook as he filled out the requisite forms. This could only mean one thing, right? He searched his mind for some other explanation, but came up with nothing. They would be alone. In one room. With one bed.
“You know
,
I was there,” the clerk was saying to him.
Darío
looked up, confused, as the clerk continued. “In
ninety-eight. When you shot the sixty
. I was in the stands at eighteen when you drained that putt. That was the most impressive round of golf I’ve ever seen.”
Darío
thanked the man, humbled that he would remember a round of golf played over
fourteen
years ago.
Darío
remembered it, of course, every drive, every putt, but that was because he’d never played a round of golf like that in his life. Never had again.
They turned and started to the elevators, the bell-hop following them with their luggage and
Darío
’s clubs. They were silent in the elevator and as they entered the room. As the bell hop unloaded their things he said, “I was there too, that day.”
Darío
’s mind was filled with thoughts of being alone in a single room with Katie and he had to think for a moment about what the bell-hop was saying before it dawned on him. “Thank you. It was quite a day.” Normally a generous tipper – his mother’s hard life in service had taught him that –
Darío
was even more so now.
The bell-hop looked down at his tip. “Thank you, sir.” He turned to leave the room, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. “You know that sixty still stands as the course record at Firestone. Nobody’s come close, even all these years later.”
The man disappeared behind the closed door.
Darío
turned to see Katie standing in the middle of the room.
Yes, Akron was
Darío
’s lucky city.
Katie looked around the no
ndescript room anxiously. She’
d put this into motion. Did she need to make the first move? Would it be expected of her? Could she do it? Wouldn’t it be enough for
Darío
that she had requested only one room?
Couldn’t he make the next move?
He wasn’t. He had started to unpack his garment bag.
Of course, it was only mid-afternoon. What, did she think he’d jump her bones the minute they were finally in a bedroom together?
Would that be too much to ask?
The thought of being on edge until bedtime – she silently laughed at her own pun – was too much for her. It had to happen now or she’d never make it.
Okay. She could do this. She could be the aggressor. The starter. The one to set the tone. She took a deep breath and started toward him. He was pulling his sportscoat out from the bag, turning toward her just as she got to him. She ran into him and they both let out a small “oof”.
Why was she so clumsy around this man when things turned physical? She considered h
erself a fairly graceful person and
had never had this happen with other men. With
Darío
she suddenly turned into The Three Stooges.
Darío
held onto her for longer than was needed. The heat ran up and down her arm, but still caused goose bumps. She raised her hand to hi
s face
, but he stepped back, a look of regret on his face.
“I have to go to the course,” he said.
“Now?”
He nodded. “
Sî
, they’
re having a pre-tournament dinner that some of the players are invited to.”
“They have those at every tournament, you haven’t gone before,” she said. She tamped down the thought that maybe he was attending this one to get away from the awkwardness she’d created by asking for only one room.
“Right. But I feel I should attend this one. They put on a clinic for club members and area youth charities and then a dinner afterward. I still hold the course record as you now know, and this is a tournament I have won three times.” He shrugged. “These people have been very good to me. I’d like to show my appreciation.”
That was so like
Darío
. Never forgetting those who helped him. Paying his debts. Being honorable.
“So, you’ll be gone for awhile?” She wasn’t sure what feeling was greater, disappointment or relief at her reprieve. He pulled out his coral-colored Lacoste shirt, the one that was so s
triking against his dark complexi
on.
Disappointment. Definitely disappointment.
He nodded. He pulled out his dress slacks and light blue dress shirt, put them with the jacket. Apparently he’d wear golf clothes to the course for the clinic, then change into dresswear for dinner.
He looked at her again. Started to say something then stopped. He took a deep breath, let it out. He grabbed his shaving kit, the coral shirt and retreated to the bathroom.
Katie sat down on the bed. She didn’t move. Just sat, thinking about ordering room service for dinner. About sitting in this room for hours obsessing about what would happen when
Darío
got back.
He wasn’t long in the bathroom. He came back into the room freshly shaved and wearing the coral shirt. Her eyes flashed over him in appreciation.
He cleared his throat. “Would you…would you like to go with me?”
“To the course?”
He nodded.
“For the clinic?”
“And for the dinner afterward,” he said.
It shouldn’t have felt so monumental to her. They had dinner together nearly every night. Practically lived together. But this felt different. This felt like…a date.
“It is a nicer affair…” he began.
“I have a nice dress. I brought one with me, I wasn’t sure if I’d need one or not. I figured if I needed more than the one, I could buy another somewhere.”
He nodded, looked at his watch. “I really have to get going to be there for the entire clinic. Why don’t I take the courtesy car now and you come later in a cab, in time for the dinner. Around seven? Tell the driver to take you to the Firestone South clubhouse. I’ll leave your name with someone there.”
“That sounds good,” she said. Her dress was somewhere at the bottom of her suitcase, getting pushed further and further down as shorts and t-shirts rose to the top. She’d need some time to press it off, shower, maybe even put her hair up. She’d been wearing it in either ponytails on the course or loose in her hotel rooms. Life had been so casual the last three weeks, dressing up sounded appealing.
She tried to help him with his clubs, but ended up getting tangled between the shoulder strap and his slacks that were on a hanger.
He chuckled. “Katie, maybe you should just stand over there for a moment.”
She stepped back, watching him effortlessly balancing his clubs against his shoulder and his shaving kit, its handle looped over the top of the hangers holding his dress clothes which hung from his fingers.
“Maybe you could just get the door for me,” he said, stepping clearly out of her way as she walked to the door.
“You know, I’m not dangerous or anything,” she said.
He passed her, paused in the doorway, caught her eyes in a hypnotizing stare. He leaned toward her. Her breath hitched. His lips met her…forehead! Forehead!
“Oh, you are most definitely dangerous,
Gata
. But to me or to yourself, that I have not yet decided.” He was chuckling to himself as he walked down the hallway.
Katie let the weight of the heavy door close itself; she was already turning toward her suitcases.
The clinic seemed to be running long. That or Katie was early.
Darío
was nowhere to be seen in the clubhouse, although other players were there. She nodded to a few that she hadn’t exactly met, but had seen in the past couple of weeks.
They were openly staring at her. First with looks of curiosity, then with admiration.
Another woman might look to see if a zipper was open or something was in some way wrong with her appearance. But Katie was used to men eyeing her. Especially when she put some time and effort into her appearance as she had tonight. It should make her feel good, but it never did. Strange men finding her attractive had never been particularly pleasing to her. It had only mattered that one man found her attractive. Her man.
The man had changed, but the sentiment had not.
She wanted to find
Darío
. For him to see her. For her to see him dressed up.
A player, one she knew was married, approached her, a cocktail in his hand, dressed in an open-necked dress shirt, jacket and slacks. “Looking for someone,” he asked in what wasn’t necessarily a helpful tone.
“Yes. Thank you.
Darío
Luna
, have you seen him?”
The man seemed disappointed. “
Darío
? Hmmm, he’s probably still out on the range. He was when I left.” He stepped closer. Closer than he should. “Can I get you a drink?”
Katie took a step back. “No, thank you. I think I’ll make my way out to the range.”
The man swept a look over her attire, raised an eyebrow at her heels and said, “It’s down the slope if you turn right out of the clubhouse.”
She thanked the player and made her way over to the range, cursing her heels and dress. It was definite
ly
country club garb, but not conducive to walking a course. Fortunately the range wasn’t far from the clubhouse. The huge bleachers were already set up for tomorrow’s
practice rounds
and
Thursday’s
official
start. The expansive rise of the bleachers eclipsed the range and she wasn’t even sure if
Darío
was still out here.
She made her way around to the front and
Darío
was the first thing she saw. Made easy because he was surrounded by children.
There were a few other pro players on the range, but they were talking with what seemed to Katie to be club members. Older men who were showing the pros their grips, their swings, looking for help of any kind. Or just wanting to say they got a tip from a pro.
Darío
, in that coral shirt Katie loved and black pants, was talking with the children, all of whom were wearing t-shirts with the First Tee emblem across the front. These weren’t children of members, country club rats. These were kids from the urban parts of the city. The poor kids. Kids
who
didn’t get chances to play on a course like Firestone. Kids
who
might never have had a golf club in their hands before, might never come to a course again.
That was the point of the First Tee program, to get these kids interested in golf. Give them a reason to come back to the game. Give them an alternative. An outlet. Their lives would be tough enough in the years to come – probably were right now –
and
this program gave them at least a few hours to be just kids playing a game.
The children were a true Rainbow Coalition, representing every color and race imaginable.
Darío
was working with them all, one at a time. The kids had obviously had their time with the other pros earlier during the clinic, but
Darío
had stayed and was making sure each got a second or two of his time.
He was talking with a little girl about eight years old
.
She had cornrows and her t-shirt was huge, hanging nearly to
her
knees, her ebony skin glistening from either the heat or exertion, or most likely both. Katie watched as
Darío
knelt down to be on her level and listened to her. He nodded, giving her time to speak. He appeared to take whatever she had to say very seriously. He stood, stepped back and the little girl stepped up to the tee and took a good whack at the ball, which Katie was happy to see go a fair distance right down the middle of the fairway.
The other kids cheered for her,
Darío
leading the ovation.
He seemed to sense Katie’s presence, and turned toward the bleachers. She walked to the front of the railing and he met her there. He leaned his golden-brown arm on the railing
.
She saw a tiny drop of sweat roll down his forearm, slide down his wrist and come to rest on the green metal railing.