Suddenly Sexy (26 page)
Authors: Linda Francis Lee
Tags: #Women television journalists, #Man-woman relationships, #Single women, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Adult, #Fiction, #Athletes, #Texas, #Love stories
was a bone-deep
weariness. I was tired of it; I was tired of him. So I didn't say a
word of acknowledgment." He groaned, then cursed. "I left him sitting
there, then I went home with that womanâ"
Her shoulders stiffened in surprise. "The one you saved?"
"Exactly. Do you like that part for your story? Is that sordid enough
for you?"
"Jesse, stop doing this."
"What do you mean, stop? You're the one who came out here wanting to
talk. So I'm talking. I left my dad at the dinner. Went home with that
woman. Then I left her before she woke
in the morning." His eyes were damning. "Is that heroic?"
She didn't know what to say to the pain in his voice.
"I went straight from her house to the driving range. I didn't want to
see anyone. But Dad was already there, drunker, angrier. And looking
for a fight." Jesse dropped his head in his hands. "Dad was furious,
telling me he could have been a better player, that he had been a
better player. But that I'd been lucky.
He had already gotten my clubs
out. With every accusation he spat at me, he hit a ball, wild, out of
control. I've never felt so tired in all my life. But angry, too. I
started yelling back, which only made him angrier, swinging wildly,
ball after ball. Then out of nowhere that woman came barreling up, mad
as hell that I had made love to her, then left her. I might not have
hit her myself, but whatever happened out there that day, I caused it
as surely as if I had swung the fucking club."
With angry movements, he snatched up his ball and tee, then his clubs.
When he straightened, his face was ravaged, and it tore her apart. She
reached out to him, touching his face. "I love you, Jesseâand
you have
to stop blaming yourself."
He didn't move, but he closed his eyes when she trailed her ringers
down his cheek to his neck, before she placed her hand over his heart.
Somewhere in the distance, she heard a car drive by. But the world was
blocked out by trees, bushes,
and the gently humming pump house.
He bowed his head, and she could feel the strong beat of his heart. He
didn't move, and she felt a stab
of hope.
But when she stepped closer, he straightened and looked her in the eye.
"You've always loved me, whether I deserved it or not. But don't stand
there and tell me I'm a hero.
I'm not. And no matter how much you want
to believe that I am, I never will be."
"That's where you're wrong. You are a hero. And there are plenty of
people who know it. Stay, play in the golf-off, and prove it to
yourself. You deserve that. And so does Travis."
"You don't understand, Kate. I can't play. Not for you. Not for Travis."
"But you have to!" Her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing. "You have to
try."
"I'm sorry. It's not going to happen. Not with me. Besides, you don't
need me." He looked at her forever, then leaned forward and kissed her
on the brow. "You're going to do great."
Then he disappeared through the chain-link fence. Kate stared after
him, too filled with dread to move.
She knew he told her he couldn't play, that his game had fallen
apart. But in quiet moments she had hoped, believed, prayed that he
wouldn't really leave her. Deep down, she understood that her pain
wasn't about the game. This wasn't about the golf-off. It was about the
fact that yet again the one
person she had always loved had left her.
"No," she cried, crumpling the note in her hand as she raced out the
back door into the early morning darkness, then across the yard to the
guest cottage.
Somewhere in her mind she registered that the Jeep was gone. But it
wasn't until she pushed inside the tiny house, saw his belongings
missing, that she couldn't hope any longer.
Jesse was gone
.
"Not again."
Kate whispered the words, closing her eyes, the note still clutched in
her hand. Her chest tightened, her throat working as she held back the
burn of tears. "We could have worked something out. We
were
working it
out. We could have worked this out together."
But that wouldn't happen. Not now.
With a jerk, she slammed out and returned to the main house. She reeled
off the names of presidents;
she went through every state capital. But
New Mexico stumped her. She never missed New Mexico.
New Mexico was
easy. But the capital eluded her.
She sat down hard, dropping her head into her hands.
Jesse was gone
.
The sun had just started to turn the black to a deep shade of purple,
and she covered her despair with anger. It was easier that way, like
pushing dirty socks and jumbled clothes into the closet and closing
the
doorâmaking it possible to believe that the room was neat and tidy,
organized and orderly.
Soon the sky would brighten, and all of El Paso would be waiting to see
Jesse Chapman take on Bobby Mac McIntyreâa match between the city's
heroes. Two men who had made them proud. But Jesse wouldn't be there.
She felt sick at heartâfor herself, yes, but as reality began to sink
in, she remembered that she wasn't
the only one who would
be hurt by Jesse's leaving.
"Kate?"
The sound of Travis's voice brought her head up with a start. He stood
in the doorway, still wearing his pajamas.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She stared at the boy. Jesse's departure hurt her deeply. But she was
afraid it would devastate his son.
Thoughts swirled, her mind tried to drift.
"Santa Fe," she whispered. "The capital is Santa Fe."
"Huh?"
She shook herself. "Nothing. Sorry. Come over here and sit down."
His eyes narrowed. "Jesse really left, didn't he?"
So much for breaking it to him slowly.
"He had to leave, Travis. He has a ... business problem that he has to
deal with. It has nothing to do
with you. He wanted to stay."
The words were made up as she went, trying to make the impact less
damaging.
"Okay, thanks for letting me know," he said with a quiet nod.
Then he turned and left the kitchen.
"Damn you, Jesse," she said softly.
Jesse really had gotten Harvey Mendle, the Tire King, to replace him.
The man had a child in the golf program and was nearly as famous as El
Paso's sports stars. He might not have been quite the local hero that
the other two were, but he could
play golf, and in a pinch he'd have to
do.
An hour after that, when she pulled into the golf course parking lot,
her stomach roiled. The largest tire she had ever seen, with a
house-sized crown gleaming on top, stood in plain sight. The Tire King
had arrived, and there wasn't a single soul who wasn't going to know it.
Her cell phone rang.
"What the hell is this I hear about the Tire King advertising in the
parking lot?" Julia demanded.
"Hello to you, too."
Julia sighed. "Sorry, sweetie, but something is going on. I've sold
advertising at hefty prices, and now
the value of those spots is being
diluted by El Paso's very own advertising slut."
"Can a man be a slut?"
"Katherine, I'm not in the mood."
"Now it's my turn to be sorry." Kate hesitated, staring up at the black
knobby tire that stood as tall as a one-story building, the crown like
a gaudy balcony. "I suspect Harvey feels he can do a little
advertising."
"Good Lord, why?"
"Probably his price for playing in the tournament."
A long pause sizzled over the airwaves. "You asked him to play?" Julia
asked very carefully.
"I didn't. Jesse did. Jesse left town this morning."
"I knew it! That bastard! Oh, sweetie, are you all right?"
The tone of her voice changed to caring so quickly that it brought
tears to Kate's eyes. There had been
so few people she could count on
in her life. But Julia, like Chloe, had always been there for her.
"Hey, don't worry about me. I should have known."
"Oh, Kate. You've always been vulnerable when it comes to him." Julia
sighed. "I'll deal with the other advertisers. Let
Mendle have his damn tire. Somehow it all will work out."
Kate wished she was as sure.
every direction. Crowds paid to get a
look at the stars.
Bobby Mac was wonderful and gracious, doing his best to make up for the
fact that Jesse wasn't there, while Harvey, the Tire King, did more to
run people off with his constant sales pitch than get them excited
about the event.
Lacey McIntyre squeezed Kate's hand when she learned what had happened,
her husband stepping in
and saying, "Don't worry about it. I might not
be a professional golfer, but I've been known to wow a crowd a time or
two."
But Kate could tell that everyone was upset with Jesse. However, it was
Travis who broke her heart.
The minute he walked up, a group of boys
circled him.
"So, Travis, where's your dad?" Then they laughed, as if they didn't
for a second expect any dad of his
to appear.
Travis shrugged his shoulders, trying not to care. The boys jeered,
then headed toward the first tee box
to get a good spot.
Kate felt sick watching. But there was nothing she could do about it.
She had to put it out of her head. She had a show to tapeâwith or
without Jesse.
She hurried to the ladies' locker room and hastily checked her makeup.
She'd have to carry a compact
of powder around with her if she wasn't going to shine like an oil
slick
underneath the hot sun. It was
only 8:30 in the morning and already she
could tell it was going to be a scorcher.
At 8:55, she stood on the number one tee box, an amazing crowd
stretching out along either side of the fairway.
Bobby Mac wore a blue golf shirt with gold trimâhis former team colors.
He smiled and signed autographs. Harvey Mendle, wearing an eye-shocking
orange-and-yellow plaid ensemble with blazing white shoes, gave out
coupons for the Tire King.
"Is everyone ready?" she asked.
The men nodded.
"Great, let's get started."
The event consisted of nine holes. An hour and a half of golf that she
would edit down into forty-four minutes of highlights with sixteen
minutes of ads, all to be shown that afternoon. She had her work cut
out for her.
Kate turned to the camera, nodded to Pete, then smiled just as the
camera started rolling.
"Good morning, West Texas. We are here at the El Paso Country Club for
the first annual golf-off for
El Paso's public sports programs." She
made the introductions, trying not to cringe at the boos that
filtered
through the crowd when she announced Jesse Chapman couldn't join them
after all. They
laughed when she mentioned the Tire King.
The event wasn't off to a great start.
She interviewed each of the men, and after the first minute, she was in
her element, asking questions about things that were important to her
and El Paso. She surprised herself when she told a joke that
made the crowd laugh. She even
managed to make the Tire King sound interesting. Then she explained
that Bobby would be playing for the football programs, and Harvey would
be playing for the golf programs. A check for $50,000 would be made out
to the winner's designated program, $35,000 to
the runner-up's program
of choice.
Bobby Mac teed off first, hitting a long and true shot that flew
straight down the fairway. Harvey came up to the tee box next,
addressed the ball, waggled the club, waggled again and again, until
the crowd started to get antsy. Finally he went into his back swing,
the movement awkward, then he followed through in the ugliest form
imaginable. But no one could deny that his ball went every inch as far
as Bobby's.
For good or bad, they were off. Or at least Bobby was. Harvey, after
his one impressive shot, hacked
his way along the course, launching the
ball into the crowd, while Bobby waited patiently and graciously, his
second shot landing pristinely on the green.
Finally, Harvey made it to the rough surrounding the smooth grass
around the number one hole. But
they weren't out of the woods yet. The
Tire King, no doubt flustered or nervous after shanking so many times,
shot the ball clear across the green, scattering the gallery on the
other side.
The crowd groaned. Even Bobby grimaced. Kate told her TV audience that
it was a wonder anyone
took up the game of golf.
Eventually, Harvey sank the ball, two strokes over parâtwo strokes
behind Bobby Mac. Over the next two holes, Harvey lost more and more
ground. By the time they approached the fourth tee box, with six holes
to go, Harvey was
seven strokes behind the football player.
To make matters worse, Travis had walked along not too far from Kate,
his golf school buddies jeering and making snide remarks. They had
stopped making comments only when she turned around at one point and
said, "Is there a problem?"
That shut them up, though if anything, Travis had become more sullen.
The competitors teed up for the fourth hole. Having the best score on
the last holeâKate didn't
mention that he'd had the best score on the
last three holesâBobby went first, his ball flying with perfection
through the startling blue sky. Kate could practically hear Harvey
groan. But no sooner
did the Tire King step up to the tee box than a
gasp rippled through the crowd.
First one head turned, then another, until the whispering turned into a
huge roar that erupted through
the gallery.
Everything stopped. Kate forgot the camera.
A spectator called out, "It's Jesse Chapman!" Another shouted, "He's
here!"
Kate's mind went still. Her chest tightened. And sure enough, Jesse
stepped through the crowd and onto the back side of the tee box.
He shook hands and joked with the gallery, his dark hair shining in the
sun. "Sorry I'm late, folks," he
said with his famous
four-color-magazine smile.
When he saw Kate, he stopped, so tall and muscular, towering over her.
He looked beautiful and wonderful and like the person she had loved for
a lifetime. But suddenly that smile that had always
made her melt
wasn't enough. Who knew why he had come back now? A belated sense of
responsibility? The realization that he might look worse
to the world for not showing up than he would if he played badly?
Whatever the reason, he was bad boy Jesse Chapman and he would come and
go as he pleased. She would never be enough to keep him. Once and for
all, she had to take that to heart and move on
with her life.
"It looks like our very own Jesse Chapman has arrived after all," she
said into the camera.
"Hallelujah," the Tire King said, walking away from the ball. "Have at
it, buddy."
A caddy hurried toward the men's tee with Jesse's clubs. Jesse didn't
immediately follow him. He walked over to Travis, and in front of the
crowd and TV audience, Jesse crooked his arm around Travis's shoulder.
"Are you going to wish your old man good luck?"
The boys from golf camp were impressed. But Travis wasn't so easily won
over. Like Kate, he'd had
to learn a hard lesson.
"Good luck," he muttered.
But if it hurt Jesse's feelings, he didn't show it. He ruffled the
boy's hair, took his driver, then halted in front of Kate. "Miss
Katie," he said with a gallant bow for the audience, "I hope I can hit
the ball better than we cooked on the last episode of
Getting Real
that
I was on."
The women swooned, but Kate just stared at him.
She moved the microphone away from her. "I'm glad you're here. It means
a lot
to
Travis."
He leaned forward so that no one else could hear, every trace of charm
gone. "Let's hope like hell
neither one of us regrets this."
Then he pulled a golf cap out of his bag, put it on, and walked up to
the tee.
The crowd cheered. Bobby and Jesse shook hands and joked. The golf-off
suddenly was rife with the anticipation of seeing two great athletes
compete.
"Where the heck did you hit your ball, Bobby Mac?" Jesse asked
good-naturedly. "I want to know
exactly where I need to land in order
to beat the crâ" He glanced at the camera. "Crud out of you."
After the laughter died down, Jesse addressed the ball. A hushed
silence fell over the gallery. Every eye was trained on this amazing
man with his athlete's body holding that driver, muscles tense and
rippling
as a full-fledged concentration took hold.
But he didn't swing.
He stepped away and wiped his hands on his pants. He laughed, though
Kate could see the laughter
didn't reach his eyes. And she understood
then that this was beyond a shank here or there as she had
seen on the
video. This was about a man whose life had fallen apart after he got a
glimpse of himself as the world saw him: wild, irresponsible, without a
care for anything but having fun. Whether it was true
or not, that was
what he had seen in the short entertainment-news bios that had run. His
life had flashed before him, and he hadn't liked what he saw. In that
moment, he had lost himself, and didn't know
where to go from there.
In her selfish desire to force him to be the man she wanted him to be,
she had ignored the fact that what he was experiencing was far deeper
than she allowed herself to believe. But he had come here anyway
in his
attempt to have honor. He was trying to be the kind of man who could be
a hero.
Her stomach clenched and her thoughts reeled. What had she done?
Focusing on Jesse, she shoved her microphone into the cameraman's hand.
As unobtrusively as she
could, she walked up to Jesse as he stood
busying himself in his bag, as if he were trying to decide if he should
switch clubs. She could see the sweat on his brow, the veins in his
temples, the straining tendons in his neck.
"You can do this, Jesse."
Without straightening, he pressed his eyes closed, the brim of his hat
hiding his face from the crowd, his fingers fisting around a ball.
"Damn it, I can't. Fuck. I knew I shouldn't have come back here."
She leaned close. "You can do it. Take a chance, Jesse, and just hit
the ball. Forget about where it will
go or what will happen. Take a
chance on yourself. Stop blaming yourself for the life you've led."
He looked at her. "What are you talking about?"
"We both know this isn't about the woman, or the golf, or the
possibility of shanking. Your game is unraveling because in those news
reports you saw a Jesse you didn't want to beâa Jesse you believe
doesn't deserve to win one of the majors." She wanted to grab him by
the shirt and force him to understand. "You deserve this, Jesse. You
are the great golfer and the good man that I've always
believed you
were."
His gaze grew intense with emotion, then a commotion in the crowd
caught their attention as someone pushed through. The always perfectly
dressed Derek stepped out wearing a golf shirt and shorts, and looked
directly at his younger brother. He walked over, and after a second, he
gave Jesse a
bone-crushing hug. "Sorry I'm late."
"Late?"
Derek grinned, then glanced at Kate before looking back. "It was
brought to my attention that we have some catching up to do. Seems to
me that your big brother could start by
being your caddy." He hesitated. "If you'll let me."
The two men stood inches apart, Jesse looking as vulnerable as Travis.
When Jesse didn't say no, Derek simply nodded his head, then picked up
Jesse's bag, telling the original caddy that his services wouldn't
be
needed. "Well, Jesse, what do you say? Looks like you have a golf-off
to win."
Jesse stood there forever, the gallery growing restless. Kate never
would have guessed she'd be so glad
to hear one of his imaginative
oaths.
Jesse swore, took the driver Derek extended, then returned to the tee
box. He readdressed the ball, his concentration fierce.
Kate hurried back and got the mike, her heart pounding so hard that
blood rushed through her ears. Just when she thought he would give up,
her mind racing with possibilities of things she could say to take the
blame, he swung. The motion was ragged, especially for a pro, and the
follow-through wasn't pretty.
But somehow it got the job done.
The crowd cheered. Bobby Mac made some joking comment about spending
too much time wooing the ladies. Then Jesse looked back at Kate. This
time she saw utter amazement. And joy.
The gallery rushed down the fairway to get a good spot for the next
shot. When she lowered the microphone, Jesse smiled. "I did it," he
said only for her. "I did it."
She wanted to touch him, hold him in her arms. But she also realized
that neither one of them was
helping the other. He was tearing her
apart, and she had nearly ruined him. After all this time, she hardly
recognized the thought that
they weren't meant to be togetherânot as lovers. Not as husband and
wife. Maybe not even as friends.
Tm sorry I pushed you to this," she said sincerely.
She started to head down the course, but he took her arm and held her
there. "You've been trying to make me live up to expectations for a
lifetime. And it was about time I didâinstead of running from them."
"I had no right, Jesse."
"You had every right. I just hope you can forgive me for leaving you in
the lurch like that."
She couldâshe did. "But it's not for me to forgive. That's up to
Travis."
Then she hurried away.
He stood there and watched her go. Derek came up beside him. "It's time
I gave you some brotherly advice." He actually smiled crookedly.
"And that is?"
Derek clapped Jesse on the shoulder. "Do whatever it takes to keep her
this time."
Derek headed down the fairway, the bag banging against his hip and
thigh. Finally, Jesse followed.
When he came to his ball, he pulled out
a six iron and lined up for his second shot. The minute he
swung he
knew, with an exhilarating freedom, that it was dead on. The tiny white
ball flew through the air, landing with a satisfying bounce and roll
onto the green. He was faced with a challenging putt, but
one that was
doable.
The crowd cheered. Bobby Mac shook his head and smiled. And suddenly
the two men were truly playing, truly competing. Hole after hole, Jesse
closed the distance between them. By the time they
stood on the ninth tee box, Bobby
Mac had only a two-stroke lead.
"Looks like we have a close game," Kate said to the camera.
weariness. I was tired of it; I was tired of him. So I didn't say a
word of acknowledgment." He groaned, then cursed. "I left him sitting
there, then I went home with that womanâ"
Her shoulders stiffened in surprise. "The one you saved?"
"Exactly. Do you like that part for your story? Is that sordid enough
for you?"
"Jesse, stop doing this."
"What do you mean, stop? You're the one who came out here wanting to
talk. So I'm talking. I left my dad at the dinner. Went home with that
woman. Then I left her before she woke
in the morning." His eyes were damning. "Is that heroic?"
She didn't know what to say to the pain in his voice.
"I went straight from her house to the driving range. I didn't want to
see anyone. But Dad was already there, drunker, angrier. And looking
for a fight." Jesse dropped his head in his hands. "Dad was furious,
telling me he could have been a better player, that he had been a
better player. But that I'd been lucky.
He had already gotten my clubs
out. With every accusation he spat at me, he hit a ball, wild, out of
control. I've never felt so tired in all my life. But angry, too. I
started yelling back, which only made him angrier, swinging wildly,
ball after ball. Then out of nowhere that woman came barreling up, mad
as hell that I had made love to her, then left her. I might not have
hit her myself, but whatever happened out there that day, I caused it
as surely as if I had swung the fucking club."
With angry movements, he snatched up his ball and tee, then his clubs.
When he straightened, his face was ravaged, and it tore her apart. She
reached out to him, touching his face. "I love you, Jesseâand
you have
to stop blaming yourself."
He didn't move, but he closed his eyes when she trailed her ringers
down his cheek to his neck, before she placed her hand over his heart.
Somewhere in the distance, she heard a car drive by. But the world was
blocked out by trees, bushes,
and the gently humming pump house.
He bowed his head, and she could feel the strong beat of his heart. He
didn't move, and she felt a stab
of hope.
But when she stepped closer, he straightened and looked her in the eye.
"You've always loved me, whether I deserved it or not. But don't stand
there and tell me I'm a hero.
I'm not. And no matter how much you want
to believe that I am, I never will be."
"That's where you're wrong. You are a hero. And there are plenty of
people who know it. Stay, play in the golf-off, and prove it to
yourself. You deserve that. And so does Travis."
"You don't understand, Kate. I can't play. Not for you. Not for Travis."
"But you have to!" Her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing. "You have to
try."
"I'm sorry. It's not going to happen. Not with me. Besides, you don't
need me." He looked at her forever, then leaned forward and kissed her
on the brow. "You're going to do great."
Then he disappeared through the chain-link fence. Kate stared after
him, too filled with dread to move.
TWENTY-THREE
Dear
Katie,
Katie,
I've
made
arrangements with Derek to make sure Travis is returned to
his mother. Please
tell him that
I'm sorry.
Knock 'em dead, my sweet little Katie. All you need to make your
golf-off a huge success
is your charm and Bobby Mac on the course. I
called Harvey Mendle and got him to take
my place.
made
arrangements with Derek to make sure Travis is returned to
his mother. Please
tell him that
I'm sorry.
Knock 'em dead, my sweet little Katie. All you need to make your
golf-off a huge success
is your charm and Bobby Mac on the course. I
called Harvey Mendle and got him to take
my place.
Forgive me. Jesse
He really had left.She knew he told her he couldn't play, that his game had fallen
apart. But in quiet moments she had hoped, believed, prayed that he
wouldn't really leave her. Deep down, she understood that her pain
wasn't about the game. This wasn't about the golf-off. It was about the
fact that yet again the one
person she had always loved had left her.
"No," she cried, crumpling the note in her hand as she raced out the
back door into the early morning darkness, then across the yard to the
guest cottage.
Somewhere in her mind she registered that the Jeep was gone. But it
wasn't until she pushed inside the tiny house, saw his belongings
missing, that she couldn't hope any longer.
Jesse was gone
.
"Not again."
Kate whispered the words, closing her eyes, the note still clutched in
her hand. Her chest tightened, her throat working as she held back the
burn of tears. "We could have worked something out. We
were
working it
out. We could have worked this out together."
But that wouldn't happen. Not now.
With a jerk, she slammed out and returned to the main house. She reeled
off the names of presidents;
she went through every state capital. But
New Mexico stumped her. She never missed New Mexico.
New Mexico was
easy. But the capital eluded her.
She sat down hard, dropping her head into her hands.
Jesse was gone
.
The sun had just started to turn the black to a deep shade of purple,
and she covered her despair with anger. It was easier that way, like
pushing dirty socks and jumbled clothes into the closet and closing
the
doorâmaking it possible to believe that the room was neat and tidy,
organized and orderly.
Soon the sky would brighten, and all of El Paso would be waiting to see
Jesse Chapman take on Bobby Mac McIntyreâa match between the city's
heroes. Two men who had made them proud. But Jesse wouldn't be there.
She felt sick at heartâfor herself, yes, but as reality began to sink
in, she remembered that she wasn't
the only one who would
be hurt by Jesse's leaving.
"Kate?"
The sound of Travis's voice brought her head up with a start. He stood
in the doorway, still wearing his pajamas.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She stared at the boy. Jesse's departure hurt her deeply. But she was
afraid it would devastate his son.
Thoughts swirled, her mind tried to drift.
"Santa Fe," she whispered. "The capital is Santa Fe."
"Huh?"
She shook herself. "Nothing. Sorry. Come over here and sit down."
His eyes narrowed. "Jesse really left, didn't he?"
So much for breaking it to him slowly.
"He had to leave, Travis. He has a ... business problem that he has to
deal with. It has nothing to do
with you. He wanted to stay."
The words were made up as she went, trying to make the impact less
damaging.
"Okay, thanks for letting me know," he said with a quiet nod.
Then he turned and left the kitchen.
"Damn you, Jesse," she said softly.
*Â
*Â *
An hour later, after several frantic phone calls, Kate learned that*Â *
Jesse really had gotten Harvey Mendle, the Tire King, to replace him.
The man had a child in the golf program and was nearly as famous as El
Paso's sports stars. He might not have been quite the local hero that
the other two were, but he could
play golf, and in a pinch he'd have to
do.
An hour after that, when she pulled into the golf course parking lot,
her stomach roiled. The largest tire she had ever seen, with a
house-sized crown gleaming on top, stood in plain sight. The Tire King
had arrived, and there wasn't a single soul who wasn't going to know it.
Her cell phone rang.
"What the hell is this I hear about the Tire King advertising in the
parking lot?" Julia demanded.
"Hello to you, too."
Julia sighed. "Sorry, sweetie, but something is going on. I've sold
advertising at hefty prices, and now
the value of those spots is being
diluted by El Paso's very own advertising slut."
"Can a man be a slut?"
"Katherine, I'm not in the mood."
"Now it's my turn to be sorry." Kate hesitated, staring up at the black
knobby tire that stood as tall as a one-story building, the crown like
a gaudy balcony. "I suspect Harvey feels he can do a little
advertising."
"Good Lord, why?"
"Probably his price for playing in the tournament."
A long pause sizzled over the airwaves. "You asked him to play?" Julia
asked very carefully.
"I didn't. Jesse did. Jesse left town this morning."
"I knew it! That bastard! Oh, sweetie, are you all right?"
The tone of her voice changed to caring so quickly that it brought
tears to Kate's eyes. There had been
so few people she could count on
in her life. But Julia, like Chloe, had always been there for her.
"Hey, don't worry about me. I should have known."
"Oh, Kate. You've always been vulnerable when it comes to him." Julia
sighed. "I'll deal with the other advertisers. Let
Mendle have his damn tire. Somehow it all will work out."
Kate wished she was as sure.
*Â
*Â *
The parking lot spilled over, cars lining the streets for miles in*Â *
every direction. Crowds paid to get a
look at the stars.
Bobby Mac was wonderful and gracious, doing his best to make up for the
fact that Jesse wasn't there, while Harvey, the Tire King, did more to
run people off with his constant sales pitch than get them excited
about the event.
Lacey McIntyre squeezed Kate's hand when she learned what had happened,
her husband stepping in
and saying, "Don't worry about it. I might not
be a professional golfer, but I've been known to wow a crowd a time or
two."
But Kate could tell that everyone was upset with Jesse. However, it was
Travis who broke her heart.
The minute he walked up, a group of boys
circled him.
"So, Travis, where's your dad?" Then they laughed, as if they didn't
for a second expect any dad of his
to appear.
Travis shrugged his shoulders, trying not to care. The boys jeered,
then headed toward the first tee box
to get a good spot.
Kate felt sick watching. But there was nothing she could do about it.
She had to put it out of her head. She had a show to tapeâwith or
without Jesse.
She hurried to the ladies' locker room and hastily checked her makeup.
She'd have to carry a compact
of powder around with her if she wasn't going to shine like an oil
slick
underneath the hot sun. It was
only 8:30 in the morning and already she
could tell it was going to be a scorcher.
At 8:55, she stood on the number one tee box, an amazing crowd
stretching out along either side of the fairway.
Bobby Mac wore a blue golf shirt with gold trimâhis former team colors.
He smiled and signed autographs. Harvey Mendle, wearing an eye-shocking
orange-and-yellow plaid ensemble with blazing white shoes, gave out
coupons for the Tire King.
"Is everyone ready?" she asked.
The men nodded.
"Great, let's get started."
The event consisted of nine holes. An hour and a half of golf that she
would edit down into forty-four minutes of highlights with sixteen
minutes of ads, all to be shown that afternoon. She had her work cut
out for her.
Kate turned to the camera, nodded to Pete, then smiled just as the
camera started rolling.
"Good morning, West Texas. We are here at the El Paso Country Club for
the first annual golf-off for
El Paso's public sports programs." She
made the introductions, trying not to cringe at the boos that
filtered
through the crowd when she announced Jesse Chapman couldn't join them
after all. They
laughed when she mentioned the Tire King.
The event wasn't off to a great start.
She interviewed each of the men, and after the first minute, she was in
her element, asking questions about things that were important to her
and El Paso. She surprised herself when she told a joke that
made the crowd laugh. She even
managed to make the Tire King sound interesting. Then she explained
that Bobby would be playing for the football programs, and Harvey would
be playing for the golf programs. A check for $50,000 would be made out
to the winner's designated program, $35,000 to
the runner-up's program
of choice.
Bobby Mac teed off first, hitting a long and true shot that flew
straight down the fairway. Harvey came up to the tee box next,
addressed the ball, waggled the club, waggled again and again, until
the crowd started to get antsy. Finally he went into his back swing,
the movement awkward, then he followed through in the ugliest form
imaginable. But no one could deny that his ball went every inch as far
as Bobby's.
For good or bad, they were off. Or at least Bobby was. Harvey, after
his one impressive shot, hacked
his way along the course, launching the
ball into the crowd, while Bobby waited patiently and graciously, his
second shot landing pristinely on the green.
Finally, Harvey made it to the rough surrounding the smooth grass
around the number one hole. But
they weren't out of the woods yet. The
Tire King, no doubt flustered or nervous after shanking so many times,
shot the ball clear across the green, scattering the gallery on the
other side.
The crowd groaned. Even Bobby grimaced. Kate told her TV audience that
it was a wonder anyone
took up the game of golf.
Eventually, Harvey sank the ball, two strokes over parâtwo strokes
behind Bobby Mac. Over the next two holes, Harvey lost more and more
ground. By the time they approached the fourth tee box, with six holes
to go, Harvey was
seven strokes behind the football player.
To make matters worse, Travis had walked along not too far from Kate,
his golf school buddies jeering and making snide remarks. They had
stopped making comments only when she turned around at one point and
said, "Is there a problem?"
That shut them up, though if anything, Travis had become more sullen.
The competitors teed up for the fourth hole. Having the best score on
the last holeâKate didn't
mention that he'd had the best score on the
last three holesâBobby went first, his ball flying with perfection
through the startling blue sky. Kate could practically hear Harvey
groan. But no sooner
did the Tire King step up to the tee box than a
gasp rippled through the crowd.
First one head turned, then another, until the whispering turned into a
huge roar that erupted through
the gallery.
Everything stopped. Kate forgot the camera.
A spectator called out, "It's Jesse Chapman!" Another shouted, "He's
here!"
Kate's mind went still. Her chest tightened. And sure enough, Jesse
stepped through the crowd and onto the back side of the tee box.
He shook hands and joked with the gallery, his dark hair shining in the
sun. "Sorry I'm late, folks," he
said with his famous
four-color-magazine smile.
When he saw Kate, he stopped, so tall and muscular, towering over her.
He looked beautiful and wonderful and like the person she had loved for
a lifetime. But suddenly that smile that had always
made her melt
wasn't enough. Who knew why he had come back now? A belated sense of
responsibility? The realization that he might look worse
to the world for not showing up than he would if he played badly?
Whatever the reason, he was bad boy Jesse Chapman and he would come and
go as he pleased. She would never be enough to keep him. Once and for
all, she had to take that to heart and move on
with her life.
"It looks like our very own Jesse Chapman has arrived after all," she
said into the camera.
"Hallelujah," the Tire King said, walking away from the ball. "Have at
it, buddy."
A caddy hurried toward the men's tee with Jesse's clubs. Jesse didn't
immediately follow him. He walked over to Travis, and in front of the
crowd and TV audience, Jesse crooked his arm around Travis's shoulder.
"Are you going to wish your old man good luck?"
The boys from golf camp were impressed. But Travis wasn't so easily won
over. Like Kate, he'd had
to learn a hard lesson.
"Good luck," he muttered.
But if it hurt Jesse's feelings, he didn't show it. He ruffled the
boy's hair, took his driver, then halted in front of Kate. "Miss
Katie," he said with a gallant bow for the audience, "I hope I can hit
the ball better than we cooked on the last episode of
Getting Real
that
I was on."
The women swooned, but Kate just stared at him.
She moved the microphone away from her. "I'm glad you're here. It means
a lot
to
Travis."
He leaned forward so that no one else could hear, every trace of charm
gone. "Let's hope like hell
neither one of us regrets this."
Then he pulled a golf cap out of his bag, put it on, and walked up to
the tee.
The crowd cheered. Bobby and Jesse shook hands and joked. The golf-off
suddenly was rife with the anticipation of seeing two great athletes
compete.
"Where the heck did you hit your ball, Bobby Mac?" Jesse asked
good-naturedly. "I want to know
exactly where I need to land in order
to beat the crâ" He glanced at the camera. "Crud out of you."
After the laughter died down, Jesse addressed the ball. A hushed
silence fell over the gallery. Every eye was trained on this amazing
man with his athlete's body holding that driver, muscles tense and
rippling
as a full-fledged concentration took hold.
But he didn't swing.
He stepped away and wiped his hands on his pants. He laughed, though
Kate could see the laughter
didn't reach his eyes. And she understood
then that this was beyond a shank here or there as she had
seen on the
video. This was about a man whose life had fallen apart after he got a
glimpse of himself as the world saw him: wild, irresponsible, without a
care for anything but having fun. Whether it was true
or not, that was
what he had seen in the short entertainment-news bios that had run. His
life had flashed before him, and he hadn't liked what he saw. In that
moment, he had lost himself, and didn't know
where to go from there.
In her selfish desire to force him to be the man she wanted him to be,
she had ignored the fact that what he was experiencing was far deeper
than she allowed herself to believe. But he had come here anyway
in his
attempt to have honor. He was trying to be the kind of man who could be
a hero.
Her stomach clenched and her thoughts reeled. What had she done?
Focusing on Jesse, she shoved her microphone into the cameraman's hand.
As unobtrusively as she
could, she walked up to Jesse as he stood
busying himself in his bag, as if he were trying to decide if he should
switch clubs. She could see the sweat on his brow, the veins in his
temples, the straining tendons in his neck.
"You can do this, Jesse."
Without straightening, he pressed his eyes closed, the brim of his hat
hiding his face from the crowd, his fingers fisting around a ball.
"Damn it, I can't. Fuck. I knew I shouldn't have come back here."
She leaned close. "You can do it. Take a chance, Jesse, and just hit
the ball. Forget about where it will
go or what will happen. Take a
chance on yourself. Stop blaming yourself for the life you've led."
He looked at her. "What are you talking about?"
"We both know this isn't about the woman, or the golf, or the
possibility of shanking. Your game is unraveling because in those news
reports you saw a Jesse you didn't want to beâa Jesse you believe
doesn't deserve to win one of the majors." She wanted to grab him by
the shirt and force him to understand. "You deserve this, Jesse. You
are the great golfer and the good man that I've always
believed you
were."
His gaze grew intense with emotion, then a commotion in the crowd
caught their attention as someone pushed through. The always perfectly
dressed Derek stepped out wearing a golf shirt and shorts, and looked
directly at his younger brother. He walked over, and after a second, he
gave Jesse a
bone-crushing hug. "Sorry I'm late."
"Late?"
Derek grinned, then glanced at Kate before looking back. "It was
brought to my attention that we have some catching up to do. Seems to
me that your big brother could start by
being your caddy." He hesitated. "If you'll let me."
The two men stood inches apart, Jesse looking as vulnerable as Travis.
When Jesse didn't say no, Derek simply nodded his head, then picked up
Jesse's bag, telling the original caddy that his services wouldn't
be
needed. "Well, Jesse, what do you say? Looks like you have a golf-off
to win."
Jesse stood there forever, the gallery growing restless. Kate never
would have guessed she'd be so glad
to hear one of his imaginative
oaths.
Jesse swore, took the driver Derek extended, then returned to the tee
box. He readdressed the ball, his concentration fierce.
Kate hurried back and got the mike, her heart pounding so hard that
blood rushed through her ears. Just when she thought he would give up,
her mind racing with possibilities of things she could say to take the
blame, he swung. The motion was ragged, especially for a pro, and the
follow-through wasn't pretty.
But somehow it got the job done.
The crowd cheered. Bobby Mac made some joking comment about spending
too much time wooing the ladies. Then Jesse looked back at Kate. This
time she saw utter amazement. And joy.
The gallery rushed down the fairway to get a good spot for the next
shot. When she lowered the microphone, Jesse smiled. "I did it," he
said only for her. "I did it."
She wanted to touch him, hold him in her arms. But she also realized
that neither one of them was
helping the other. He was tearing her
apart, and she had nearly ruined him. After all this time, she hardly
recognized the thought that
they weren't meant to be togetherânot as lovers. Not as husband and
wife. Maybe not even as friends.
Tm sorry I pushed you to this," she said sincerely.
She started to head down the course, but he took her arm and held her
there. "You've been trying to make me live up to expectations for a
lifetime. And it was about time I didâinstead of running from them."
"I had no right, Jesse."
"You had every right. I just hope you can forgive me for leaving you in
the lurch like that."
She couldâshe did. "But it's not for me to forgive. That's up to
Travis."
Then she hurried away.
He stood there and watched her go. Derek came up beside him. "It's time
I gave you some brotherly advice." He actually smiled crookedly.
"And that is?"
Derek clapped Jesse on the shoulder. "Do whatever it takes to keep her
this time."
Derek headed down the fairway, the bag banging against his hip and
thigh. Finally, Jesse followed.
When he came to his ball, he pulled out
a six iron and lined up for his second shot. The minute he
swung he
knew, with an exhilarating freedom, that it was dead on. The tiny white
ball flew through the air, landing with a satisfying bounce and roll
onto the green. He was faced with a challenging putt, but
one that was
doable.
The crowd cheered. Bobby Mac shook his head and smiled. And suddenly
the two men were truly playing, truly competing. Hole after hole, Jesse
closed the distance between them. By the time they
stood on the ninth tee box, Bobby
Mac had only a two-stroke lead.
"Looks like we have a close game," Kate said to the camera.
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