California

Chapter Two

There was a soft knock on my door. I opened my eyes and was blinded by the morning lights. I groaned and coughed.
"Come in."
Stanton stepped inside and looked around. I already unpacked my stuff and everything was neat. He cleared his throat and spoke.
"I am taking you out around town for you to know it better."
"Oh. Okay."
"Get ready by quarter to 12."
"Got it."
He slowly got out of the door when I called out for him.
"Stanton."
"Um. Yeah." He said kind of eagerly.
"What time is it?"
"11:35." With that he closed the door. I whipped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. After a quick shower, I wore my light blue play suit with my pure white sandals. I put my hair in a quick messy ponytail and reapplied my white nail polish. After a twirl in the full length mirror, I gave myself a nod of approval and walked downstairs.
When I got down, Shakeria, our chef, was making breakfast. She had beautiful dark skin and her black hair was wrapped in a perfect bun. She wore a crisp golden blouse over blue mom jeans finished off with chunky gold bracelet and Converses. Apparently, she owns six famous gourmet restaurants over America and people kill to get into her restaurant. My dad hired her before she became a big success. Now, she still works for him from the bottom of heart.
"You hungry, baby?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Ma'am? I feel old."
"It was with respect, ma'am."
"I know. You Southerns are just so sweet."
"Most of us."
She laughed. She took out a large stack of pancakes. She topped it with extra whipped cream and put a strawberry delicately on top. She clapped her hands.
"Your first meal in the Vixen household. Three layers of my California Cheesecake Pancake."
Robert came in. He leaned into my ear and whispered, "It's New York Styled, but you didn't hear it from me."
I giggled.
I ate the "California" Cheesecake Pancake and Robert escorted me to the limo from last night. Stanton was already inside. "Let's go."
We drove around town so I could "find my way" in Staton's words. We then drove to a massive town centre that was clearly private and for the crazy rich.
"Out, please." Staton said kindly. He got out first and offered his hand. I ignored it and got out myself. He turned stiffly and looked out.

"Where would you like to go?"
I looked around. It was all glitz and glamour. A bit too much for me. I then saw a nice little golf shop.
"I need a new pair of clubs."
"Huh?"
"I couldn't take mine from home. Florida has the best, but California will do." I headed straight in and I was amazed at the sight.
It was two whole floors of full golf equipment. I wanted to cry. A guy, my age or so, came towards me. He wore a neon yellow employee shirt and khaki shorts. He smiled.
"How may I help you, sir?"
Staton shook his head. "We're here for Aussie."
"Austin." I corrected.
The guy looked shocked, but tried to cover it. He then laughed. I narrowed my eyes.
"You have a problem?"
"No," he wiped his eyes,"it's never mind. Please, come this way."
I glared at the back of this guy's head. I wanted to hit it with one of the Talyormade golf balls.
"Here are the women clubs. Not many."
"I hit with men's. I'm tall."
"Me, too." He snickered. He was about 6 foot, but that doesn't mean I couldn't smack him at my 5'9.
We reached the men clubs and I took the ones that I had at home.
"You sure about those? They require a lot if muscles to swing."
"I got this." I snapped.
The guy was trying hard not to smile. A dimple was appearing. He looked kind of like... Trevor McCathy. Kind of hot.
"You probably don't play well."
I take it back. I take it ALL back.
"Wanna bet?," My voice was intimidating and I was ready to rip him apart, I can play with a three birdies, one eagle, and the rest pars."
He smiled slyly. "Are you asking me to a competition?"
"It won't be because I would win." I hissed.
His smiled broaden, showing off his dimples. "You have no idea who you are competing with," he pulled out a card and wrote on it,"I will see you on Monday at 7 sharp at this location. Bring me my prize. I like my money crisp and clean."
I snagged it out of his hands. "You better write me a nice check." I then walked off in a huff. I got to the front desk and saw Staton holding bags.
"I got you some extra things I thought you may need."
"Thanks." I passed by him and went to the clerk. I gave them the bag with my clubs and took out my wallet.
"I will pay."
"No than..."
"It's your welcome gift." He quickly gave the clerk the card and we went to the limo to go home. I looked at the card. It was to the location of a fabulous golf course. Only the extreme upper class could go. I flipped it over. There was a number and a name. I gasped. It was Trevor McCathy.
I didn't feel well.