The Club

CHAPTER 8

20th Birthday Part 1

April 20, 2009

I slide the back of my hand against my saturated forehead. The warm May weather has everyone in a craze to soak up the start of the summer rays before it really hits us with a vengeance. Today was supposed to be my day off, it being my birthday after all, but with all the richies in town flocking to the country club, I find myself out in the heat with the sweltering sun beating down on me. I usually work in the dining room but more people on the course calls for more girls in the carts. At least my skin is getting a nice bronze before going out tonight, and I'm making a shit-ton of tips.

Especially from all the frat boy types. With spring term finishing up everyone is hitting the partying even harder, including day drinking on the golf course. I finished up the last term with a bachelor's in journalism. I couldn't afford to go away to school and took classes online instead. Although I did rack up some serious student loan debt, I was able to overload my credits and finished in two years. Of course, all of those AP classes I took in high school helped out immensely. I might have survived on caffeine those two years and pushed through deliriously, but I'm done. So tonight I finally get to celebrate finishing school as well as my birthday. Tomorrow? I get to live the terrifying life of trying to be an adult. I don't plan on staying a waitress forever.

I finish distributing drinks to the leering old men at the fifth hole, or maybe it's the sixth? I've been out here all morning they're starting to blur. As the last man, who's old enough to be my father if not older, slips a fifty into my front pocket, I instinctually tug down on the short hemline of my shorts. The tips out here are great, but I constantly feel like I need to wash their stares off my body. I do not miss being a cart girl in the slightest. I hastily get back into my cart, not missing the lick of lips that big tipper gave me. I involuntarily shudder and slam my foot down on the peddle, getting myself to the next hole as fast as this damn thing will take me.

The next hole comes up quickly with a group of much younger men. They're all closer to my age which could be a blessing or a curse. I slow down and with a sigh, park the golf cart and hop out. Only a few more hours until this horrible day is over, then it's celebration time with Kyle. I just need to keep telling myself that.

"Hey, baby can you bring me a Corona?" A husky voice asks breaking me from my thoughts and reminding me what I'm doing out here. Serving the rich and entitled. And where does he get off calling me baby? I'm no body's baby.

I reach into my cooler, tempted to slide one of the ice cubes over my stifling body. Heck, it will probably bring me a few more dollars in tips. I grab the beer as well as an ice cube and sigh with the first touch of it to my temple. Although I'd love to bath my body in the ice chest, I instead drag the cube down the side of my cheek and throat and slide it down my chest. I'm so lost in my sudden blast of ice to my body that I don't even realize who's standing in front of me. With a clear of his throat, I pause and look up into the most gorgeous blue eyes I've ever seen. The same ones I've been dreaming about for years. Parker Townsend is standing directly in front of me and by the intense heat in his eyes and the way his eyes are locked on my breasts, I can tell he's enjoying the show.

I hand over his Corona and in a low throaty voice say, "Here you go, Parker."

He shakes his head, my voice breaking him from his trance and a smirk crosses his face. He reaches into his pocket and hands me some cash. "There you go, darling." Bringing the beer to his mouth he takes a long pull and liquid works its way down his throat. Damn, is it possible to be jealous of a damn drink? I guess when it's attached to Parker Townsend's mouth, the answer is always yes. "How did you know my name, sweetheart? I haven't seen you around here before."