More Than You Know (h.s)

Chapter Thirty Three.

HARRY'S POV ❁

The all too familiar smell of expensive cologne and cigars filled my nose as I sipped slowly on the beer in my glass. The powerful sun rays were blocked from my eyes by a baseball cap and a pair of polarized sunglasses, which also doubled as a shield for me to be able to glance around at the men surrounding me and judge their body language.

I've been coming to country clubs with my father since I was nineteen years old. He told me he never wanted to interrupt my studies by learning golf because he knew I was going to be a natural like him and I'd never be able to focus on anything outside of the sport again. I don't think he took into consideration that at the time he was teaching me, I had a beautiful girlfriend and I was freshly graduated from high school. I never took golf as seriously as the man who was on the verge of retirement and had nothing else to excite him any longer.

"How's work? You still screwing around with that cute little assistant of yours?" My father asks in between puffs from his cigar and sips from his whiskey. This is his every day life, and he is beyond ecstatic each time I agree to come join him for a round of golf and some father-son bonding.

"Sometimes. She's great in bed, but she wants to talk all the god damn time. She even texts me goodnight and good morning every day." I complain back to him. This is how our time spent together seemingly always ends up. He asks me a few questions, I do the same to him, then we part ways until the next time we realize we haven't seen each other in weeks and need to get together.

"Well, I guess that's mine and your mothers fault for bringing you into this generation of technology. Back when I was your age, if I screwed around with a girl, that's all she was getting from me. She could write me a letter or try to reach me through the home phone, but that was just embarrassing for anyone who crossed our paths. Times were much simpler back then, Harry." My father takes a long drag from his cigar and looks at me expectantly for an answer. I laugh at him and shake my head.

"You talk like you're ninety and know the ins and outs of the universe." I comment back. He tosses a packet of sugar at me from off the top of the table and we both erupt into laughter.

"Whatever. Now moving off the topic of my age-- how's the wife? I haven't seen Rosalie in ages." He sits back further in his chair and I use his question as an excuse to finish off the beer in my cup.

Almost immediately, the empty glass is replaced with a full one by some waitress with her tits nearly popping out of her shirt. She smiles at me as she walks away, making it obvious the amount of sway that she puts into her hips isn't natural. I consider following her back to the counter and retrieving her number, but decide against it when I look back at my father. He's still smoking his cigar and waiting patiently for me to fill him in on my life outside of sleeping around and running his company.

"Rosie's good. Working her ass off at the shop lately, from what I've heard. I haven't seen her in a few days but I planned to call her later to see how she's holding up." I eventually answer. My father nods his head slowly, but seems confused by my answer.

"A few days? Has something changed within the last few months that I don't know about? As far as my knowledge of marriage goes, it's nearly impossible to tip-toe around the house and not catch sight of each other for multiple days. Trust me-- your mother and I attempted it a dozen times." He laughs lowly and I shake my head at him for what seems like the millionth time.

"No, not at our house. I moved out into my own place. Didn't I tell you? I thought I had." I reach for my second beer in hopes of making this conversation less meaningful. Rosie's avoiding telling her family and I've been doing the same. Neither of us know what's going on between us anymore so we've chosen to not disclose and information to anyone else until we can decide what we want to tell them.