Chapter 28

“Is this the woman you were telling me about, Mr. Carver?” Hugo asks, while I’m frozen in shock looking at him.

He’s around my age, dressed well in a cashmere sweater and dark pants. His blonde hair is cut short and perfectly styled. His eyes are the color of warm chocolate that, coupled with his soft smile, help him give off a kind and friendly demeanor.

“Yes,” Mr. Carver says and waves a hand toward me, presenting me. “Mrs. Esther Graham, adopted daughter of Preston H. Owens.”

“Ah. I thought you looked familiar,” Hugo says. “We’ve probably been to the same parties over the years. I’ve regret that we’ve never been introduced.”

It’s then that I recover from my initial shock of seeing a celebrity, and realize how unbearably rude I’ve been by staring and not engaging in the conversation. I set forward, eager to make things right.

“Forgive me. I must have been star struck for a moment,” I say, laughing a little, self-deprecatingly. I hold out my hand for a handshake. “It’s an absolute pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Harbinger.”

Hugo continues smiling, though he doesn’t otherwise move an inch, not even to glance down at my hand. “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Graham.”

Feeling slightly foolish, I lower my hand back to my side. “Please. Call me Esther.”

“Only if you call me Hugo.”

“Esther was just deciding whether to assist you with your upcoming event,” Mr. Carver says. He meets my eyes with a bright expression. “She’s always been such an asset. Very talented, this one.”

He’s blowing smoke. I’ve worked here for two weeks tops. He’s attempting to manipulate both Hugo and me. Hugo, by making me seem more important than I really am. Me, by flattering me so much I can’t possibly say no.

Jokes on him. I wasn’t going to say no anyway. “I’m always happy to help our guests,” I say, flashing a thousand watt smile first at Mr. Carver, then at Hugo. “It just so happens that I really love golf.”

Unlike Mr. Carver, I’m not exaggerating. I haven’t played much since college, but I still tried to sneak out every now and then to hit a few shots on the range. I have a very nice set of clubs in the garage at the house, ready and waiting.

Not that I actually expect to play in this tournament. My job as planner would be to oversee everyone. That leaves little time to hit any balls myself.

“I’m glad,” Hugo says kindly. “That will hopefully make this easy for you then.”

“Thank you, Esther,” Paige whispers to me. I nod at her, happy to help. She shouldn’t have to worry about work while she’s celebrating her son and his new wife. Likewise, Mr. Carver should be able to enjoy his cruise with his wife.

“Mrs. Carver thanks you, too,” Mr. Carver says next.

“Mr. Harbinger –” I begin.

“Hugo, remember?” he gently corrects.

“Hugo,” I say in reply. His brown eyes sparkle and despite myself, some butterflies take flight in my stomach. He is a handsome man, and it’s hard not to notice when he’s looking at me like I’m the most important person in the room. “Why don’t we take a seat in my office and go over the details?”

“Oh, use my office, Esther,” Mr. Carver says at once. “I will be around the grounds all day today anyway. You know the password to my computer?”

1234 is hardly a password, something I’ve explained to him a hundred times already.

“It’s the only thing I can remember,” he said when confronted. I have no idea how he has lasted as long as he has.

“I do,” I tell him now with a tight-lipped smile. “This way, Hugo.”

“After you, Esther,” he replies.

I lead Hugo down the corridor toward Mr. Carver’s office. He moves with such confident ease, that I get the feeling he’s been here many, many times before. That should make this even easier then. Unlike some of our more difficult clients, Hugo likely already has a good idea of what he wants.

Inside Mr. Carver’s office, I direct Hugo to a two person table along the side wall. It’s more personable, I feel, than having to sit on opposite sides of a desk. I grab a tablet and pen off of Mr. Carver’s desk, then join Hugo at the small table.

“Now,” I say, once we are settled. “Tell me what you envision for your event.”

“I’m not terribly particular about it, honestly,” Hugo says. “Mr. Carver talked me up back there, but truly, an event like your regular golf tournaments would be fine. We’ll have roughly a hundred people. I can provide an official list to you tomorrow. We’d like to play in foursomes.”

I make a few notes on my tablet. All of this seems standard.

“Water and alcohol stations would be ideal,” Hugo says. “An area for light meals. Then we’d like to close the event out with an official dinner at the end of the night.”

That’s all doable. “What would you prefer for the meal?”

“Anything that’s edible,” he says smoothly.

I laugh a little and he seems pleased.

“When you hand over your guest list, please include any allergies or food preferences, like vegetarian, vegan, or gluten-free.”

“Of course.”

So far everything is flowing smoothly. “Would you like us to prepare any gift bags for your guests?”

“My company will provide those. Though we may need a place to store them.”

“We can handle that.”

All in all, the official part of meeting takes maybe twenty minutes, tops.

“I can show you the grounds,” I say. “Give you an idea of what we can deliver.”

“I’ve been a club member for years,” Hugo replies. “I know every inch of this place.”

“Oh…” I should have known that, and I beat myself up for it, for a moment.

Until Hugo notices. “Though I’d love to see it again. With your perspective, it might be like seeing it for the first time.”

He’s being kind. I’m sure that’s not necessary. “You don’t have to for my sake.”

“I’d like to,” Hugo says.

Hugo has a soothing way about him that cools my nerves before they can even get wrinkled. I was so ready to be mad at myself, for not knowing Hugo is a member, for making a silly suggestion, for pushing it on him…

But his kind words and easy smile smooth everything out.

He makes it seem like a tour with me wouldn’t be a bother. It would be the opposite, in fact. Something fun, to be enjoyed.

“Very well,” I say, standing. “If you would join me.”

As we start walking along, the tour I intended to give gets lost amongst our other conversation. Hugo asks me about my father, and I ask him about his work.

“These events are commonplace for me,” Hugo says. “We arrange them all over the country. At the news network, we have to maintain all of our connections, both in the capital and outside of it. That’s much easier to do, I find, when people are distracted with their golf game rather than their political differences.”

“Did you learn that from my father?” I ask. “We always says the best way to unite people is to pit them against a common enemy. In this cause, the golf course.”

Hugo laughs. “No. It’s something I’ve found more through my own experience.” He considers me. “Your father taught you well, Esther. Do you maintain connections here at the country club?”

“I’m a fairly new hire,” I admit. “But… I have used some of my father’s techniques to help raise my husband up to Regional CEO.”

If I were to tell that to anyone else, they’d likely scoff at me for trying to take the credit of my husband’s success, even though what I said was true.

Maybe telling this to Hugo is a sort of test. He’s seemed so perfect so far, reasonable and kind. I want to see the flaws in him so I can paint him with the same brush as all the others who have disappointed me.

Instead, he nods. “I wholeheartedly believe that, especially having met your husband.”

He’s… taking me seriously? More, he’s… on my side?

“Esther,” he says, turning to me. “I have one more request for my golf tournament.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to play alongside me in my group.”