Damage Control

Chapter 21

A few minutes later, Nathaniel finally emerged through the door holding a grey golf bag in one hand and a book bag in another, not even glancing in the receptionist's direction. She was still stunned by my words; she couldn't utter one flirty remark to him as we left the building and headed towards the golf course.

"What happened?" Nathaniel asked, setting the bags on the ground before turning around and scoping out the area to make sure this was the spot he wanted. The entire resort was empty, which was, of course, his doing. I've noticed whenever he goes somewhere, he makes sure he's either in a private section away from the peasants or completely isolated like now.

"Huh?"

"You heard me."

"So, how long are we gonna be out here?" I asked, avoiding his question as I shoved the visor over my eyes to shield them from the hot sun. Just as he was about to speak, his phone rang, saving me from having to explain what went down in the lobby.

"Creed," Nathaniel snapped, popping his air pods in his ears but not before giving me a look, silently telling me that our conversation isn't over.

I smiled innocently and sat down on the fold-up chair that gave me a good view of Nathaniel and the entire course. He slid his phone into his pocket before pulling out a beautiful iron golf club from the bag. His shirt was so tight I could literally see the muscles in his back contract as he got ready to swing the club.

Nathaniel steadied his posture and dropped his shoulders, carefully eyeing the ball before striking it with one powerful swing, sending the ball flying into the air. How does he manage to make golf look sexy?

"Well, did he get the fucking paperwork done?" Nathaniel asked furiously, setting another ball to the ground and taking another powerful swing, not even caring where the previous ball landed. I'm convinced the only reason we came here was so he could take his anger out on innocent balls. Well, I still didn't understand why I was here, but I knew better than to question his motives.

For the next three hours, I baked in the sun, watching Nathaniel relentlessly abuse over 100 balls while ripping into every employee that worked for him over the phone. Occasionally a waitress would come out and bring us fresh cold lemonade and sandwich bites, which I gladly consumed. By the time it was nearing four hours since our arrival, I was more than ready to go. I could've been doing so many other things with my time than watching Nathaniel swing a club numerous times. Come to think of it, this entire trip, I haven't done anything work-related except check my emails from time to time, which got me wondering why he brought me along in the first place.

"Are you ready?" Nathaniel asked, turning towards me as he stuffed his air pods into the case.

"God, yes!" I sighed, ecstatic that he was finally off the phone and ready to leave.

"Here." He grabbed an iron golf club out of the bag and shoved it in my direction, waiting for me to take it.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"I want you to hit the ball."

"Why?" I whined, snatching the visor off my head and smoothing out my frizzy flyaways. "Can't we just go? I'm tired and hungry and feel like I'm going to die."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes and held the club out more. "You've been eating since we got here."

"Well, I'm tired."

"Hit the ball, then we'll leave."

"Fine," I huffed, snatching the club out of his hand. He patiently placed the golf ball on the tee at my feet and nodded, signaling for me to hit it.