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Fore!(Play)
Chapter 6
Mulligan
Mulligan: a second chance to perform an action, usually after the first chance went wrong through bad luck or a blunder. Its best-known meaning is in golf, whereby a player is informally allowed to replay a stroke, even though this is against the formal rules of golf.
Elbows still propped and holding up my shaking head, I look up at Emmett. "I just blew it, didn't I? I let him get to me, and I just blew it. Oh, God, Emmett, he's never coming back, is he?"
"Bella," he starts, then changes to Marie when I tap my name tag. "Marie, you may have just said exactly what needed to be said. He is addicted to gambling, and you're right, the gambling, plus all the partying that goes along with it, have led to most of his problems."
"But I shouldn't have used Charlie's name."
"I don't know. Maybe he should know how disappointed everyone is in him, particularly your family. Don't give up on him yet. I think he'll come back."
I roll my eyes and shake my head, convinced I'll never see Jasper again, but then he surprises me and walks through the door. He appears much calmer when he takes his seat. I can see some dampness in his hairline, and his face is a little flushed.
Picking up the crumbled paper, he smooths it out, glances over it, and then surprises me again when he agrees to the requirements in the morality clause. He smirks slightly at my astonishment. "My agreement is contingent on the generosity of my compensation package though."
Damn, I think to myself. I've lost again. With a nod, I pass out the final pages of Jasper's contract.
The terms are all there, clear and precise, bulleted in black and white. He can accept or reject. There will be no negotiations. Jasper and Emmett follow along as I read.
"The Swann Corporation agrees to provide Jasper Whitlock with the following benefits:
* a fully furnished, all utilities paid, townhouse,
* two meals a day from the restaurant or snack bar,
* unlimited coffee, soft drinks, juices, or other beverages. Beer, wine, and mixed drinks excluded,
* paid healthcare, including dental and eye exam coverage,
* a one percent commission on the total sales of the new clothing line,
* employee will keep 100 percent of his private lessons' income,
* regular working days will be Tuesday thru Sunday with every Monday off, in addition, the employee will have every third weekend off. Hours will be thirty minutes before and thirty minutes after opening and closing times for the Pro Shop,
* employee's annual salary will be $50,000,
* contract term is one calendar year."
Several paragraphs of legal terms follow the list, including the stipulation that employment can be terminated if the conditions of the morality clause are not met. I keep my head down as I read, not stopping or allowing any interruptions, but I'm aware of Jasper's increased shifting in his chair and an occasional huff. The worst is when I read the salary figure. I can see his white-knuckled grip on the contract tighten. It's a ridiculously low figure, he knows it, and I know it. The whole contract has been designed to provide for his basic needs, give him some incentives to work toward, and limit his immediate income so he doesn't have extra money for gambling.
Jasper opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off by standing. "I'm sure you'd like some time to think about everything we've discussed, Mr. Whitlock. So, I'm going to leave and give you and Mr. McCarty some privacy. I'll return in approximately twenty minutes."
I barely make it out the door before I'm bending over gasping for breath and shaking so hard I can barely stand. I knew seeing Jasper again would be difficult, but I had no idea just how emotional it would be.
"You okay, boss lady?" I look up to see Edward standing beside me.
"Yes. Just a little overwhelmed."
He nods, then chuckles. "Yeah, I bet."
"How much did you see?"
"Not much. I turned the screens on when I saw him leave the office. He looked like he was about to explode."
Taking a couple deep breaths, I stand and nod. "I let him get to me and probably said too much. Emmett thinks it might have been the best thing though. Do you have everything ready?" When Edward nods, I follow him down a hallway.
The short corridor dead ends in what used to be a little-used storage space. In fact, the door still has a storage sign on it. Over the last few months, Edward has transformed it into a security hub where feeds from the course's surveillance cameras can be viewed and recorded. There's a camera in my office, and Edward has the feed on the main screen. I settle into a chair as he turns up the volume.
"Do you need me to stay, B …" I quirk an eyebrow at him and he chuckles before quickly substituting "boss lady". Edward is only one of two people employed by the course who know who I am. Calling me "boss lady" is his way of covering any slip ups with my name.
"No, I'll be all right. This will probably get nasty, and you don't want to hear it." With a nod, he leaves, and I turn back to the screen.
Emmett is still seated, but Jasper is up roaming the room. Papers litter the floor where he's obviously thrown his copy of the contract. "Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Did you see this, McCarty?" He's standing in front of the corner where I've moved Charlie's portrait, trophies, and memorabilia. "She put Charlie over here in the corner and hung her big fancy architectural plans behind her desk. Who told her she could change up this office?" He continues prowling around, picking up items, and muttering to himself. Emmett just watches him passively.
Jasper makes his way to my framed diplomas. "Oh, lookie here," he begins, pulling one off the wall and waving it at Emmett. Sarcasm drips from his voice. "A degree from Penn State in Professional Golf Management, and an MBA from fucking Harvard. I guess she thinks that gives her the right to tell me I need to go to AA meetings and that I have a gambling problem. Financial genius thinks she can insult me by offering me fifty-fucking-thousand dollars."
For a moment, it looks like he might throw it on the floor, but then he rehangs it, smirking when it slides askew. "You got nothing to say, McCarty?" He rounds on Emmett, who still watches from his chair. "You gonna just sit there all quiet and shit, like you did when she was insulting me with her morality clause and her cheap ass job offer? I thought you were supposed to be this hot-shot lawyer who was representing me, but all you did was just sit there and listen to her insults."
I miss Jasper's next words. Then he says something about my plain face and ugly clothes. It hurts a bit, but at least I know my disguise is working.
When I focus back on the screen, Emmett is staring at Jasper with his intimidating lawyer glare. Jasper almost cringes at its intensity.
"Yeah, Whitlock," Emmett finally answers him. "I've got plenty to say, but I've been waiting for 'golf's golden boy.'"—Emmett mimics Jasper by using air quotes— "to finish his little temper tantrum. Now sit your ass down in that chair and listen to me."
With a huff, Jasper plops himself down in his chair. He leans back, crossing one leg over his knee, and folding his arms across his chest. Emmett shakes his head, then begins again.
"First of all, the Swann family removed most of Charlie's things years ago. Something you'd have known if you'd ever returned. Second, this is Miss Dwyer's office, and she can do whatever she pleases to it. The Swann Corporation hired her on her qualifications and her vision. You're smart enough to know those diplomas on the wall represent hard work, dedication, and yeah, lots of intelligence. It doesn't take a genius to know you have a gambling problem. It's pretty much common knowledge, Jasper.
"And third, before we start discussing that job offer and contract you just threw all over the floor like some toddler, you need to know that I stopped being your lawyer about eighteen months ago when you stopped paying me. My firm hasn't seen a red cent from you for any of my services. The only reason I'm here today is because of our past friendship and because the Swann family is paying my fee to represent you. So, you can take your pissy temper and your bullshit attitude and just shut-the-fuck-up, Whitlock."
Jasper visibly deflates during Emmett's speech. First, his arms unfold, then he puts both feet on the floor. The defiance on his face is gone. Maybe he's finally ready to listen. He opens his mouth to speak, but Emmett cuts him off.
"So, since I've been retained to represent you, let's just start with the legal stuff. Barring some kind of miracle, you're headed to bankruptcy. I don't see any way around it. You've lost your endorsements, you have no income, you're drowning in debt, and you haven't made the cut in the last three tournaments you've entered. The gig's up, Jasper. You need a job. As your lawyer, I recommend that you accept the one you've just been offered."
"I still have a house in Malibu and one in Pebble Creek. I can sell those," Jasper starts to argue, but Emmett shakes his head.
"You had a house in Malibu and Pebble Creek. You took out second mortgages on both of them, then defaulted on all the payments. The banks foreclosed six months ago. A buyer stepped in and bought both of them."
"What the fuck!" Jasper's on his feet, yelling at Emmett who calmly waits for him to finish. "Why didn't I know about this?"
"Probably because you were passed out somewhere in the backroom of a casino or some cheap hotel somewhere. You were notified numerous times by mail, email, even certified mail, but you never responded, and the legal proceedings continued."
Jasper sinks back into his chair, runs a hand through his hair, and finally whispers, "My personal belongings?"
"Were packed and moved to a storage unit. I have the key."
Memories of packing Jasper's personal belongings assault me as I listen. I'd done it all myself, refusing to allow any stranger to move his things. Touching his trophies, photos, and clothing had been gut-wrenching reminders of a life I thought we'd share. When I found the old photo of us at my eighteenth birthday framed and displayed on his bedside table, I broke down and sobbed. So many regrets, so many mistakes, so many actions I want to correct. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I take a deep breath and turn my attention back to the scene in my office.
Emmett is still talking. "I don't understand why you can't see this offer for what it really is."
"What do you mean?" Jasper frowns.
"You're so focused on the minuscule salary that you don't see the bigger picture. This isn't just a job, this is a chance for you to completely reset your life. All your basic needs are taken care of: housing, food, enough spending money to get by, even your clothing will be provided through the club. You'll get to do things that you've always been interested in doing—designing courses and implementing new fertilizing and weed control procedures. But the best thing, Jasper"—Emmett leans toward him, and I smile at the concern I see there— "is that you have time to work on your game. There'll be hours of free time for you to just play, to get back your love of the game with no pressure and no expectations from the public, or sponsors, or the press. Plus, your mother's here. It wouldn't hurt you to spend a little more time with her."
Emmett leans back in his chair, and we both watch Jasper. He twists in his chair, crossing and uncrossing his legs, running his hand through his hair. He clears his throat, then sighs. "I can't … I don't."
"What?" Emmett asks. "You want more money? Remember you're getting a percentage of the sales of the new clothing line, and you get to keep all your private lesson money. You know that's going to add up. What do you need more money for anyway?"
"That's not it, Em. This is … this is just a handout from the Swann family. I can't take their charity."
Alone in the security room, I stare speechless at the screen, shocked at Jasper's words. Emmett must feel the same way because he blinks rapidly and mutters a surprised "What?"
Jasper doesn't answer, doesn't even look at his once best friend, just stares out the window. Finally, he shakes his head. "My father used to tell me I was a stupid fuck-up. He was right. I've fucked-up every good thing I've ever had in my life."
"Your dad was a lying, abusive piece of shit, Jasper, and you know it. Why would you ever believe anything he said to you?"
"Because—"
Emmett cuts him off before Jasper can say anything else. "This job is not a handout from the Swann family. If it were, they'd have offered you more money. They didn't. You'll be working and earning your paycheck. Listen." Emmett leans closer to Jasper to get his attention. "I don't know what happened between you and Bella, or between you and Charlie, but maybe this is their way of extending an olive branch. Maybe you need to accept their help so they can begin healing, too."
Jasper shifts his body toward Emmett. The two share a long look between them. "Okay," Jasper whispers.
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AN: As always thanks to all my readers and reviewers, and to the bestest beta, Sally. I'm not a lawyer, so I'm sure some of the legal stuff in this chapter isn't correct. Let's just assume for the sake of the story that it is.