Page 7 of Golden Days

Levi

Zip it, Jackie boy.

Jacob

Stop calling me that.

Levi

Never.

Rowan

Nah.

Ezra

You wish.

The restaurant at the country club is packed more than usual for a weeknight. I nod at Rosie, the hostess, and say, “Table for two, please.”

She smiles apologetically and tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Carmichael, but we’re looking at a minimum half an hour wait.”

My stomach rumbles in response and I look over at Rhodes, who grins at me—his green eyes, the same shade as mine, glinting.

“How about bar seating?” he asks Rosie.

“That I can do!” She grabs two menus, walking us over to the bar. “Here you are. My friend will be right over to take your orders.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Rhodes says, watching Rosie leave. His eyes linger a beat too long. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that has him furrowing his brows.

“Everything okay?” I ask, flipping the menu over to see the specials.

“She looks familiar. I can’t quite place it though.”

I groan. “Please don’t tell me she reminds you of someone you dated.”

“You insult me, kid. Besides, I like women my own age. They know a thing or two about⁠—”

I cover both ears with my hands and pretend I can’t hear him. Rhodes laughs and drops the subject. We peruse the menu in silence for a moment until our bartender makes her way to us.

Her brown hair is in a ponytail, and her big brown eyes widen slightly when they notice me. The cart girl opens her pretty, lush mouth and shakes her head, almost as if she’s coming out of a daze.

“Good evening. What can I get you, gentlemen?” she asks.

Hazel, my brain helpfully supplies. Hazel Thomas. I couldn’t help but notice her around the club the last few months. Her curvy figure seems to be everywhere—the pro shop, the range, the courses, and even the restaurant. My gaze dips to the open collar of her uniform and the ivory skin that peeks out. There’s a gold necklace in the shape of a strawberry resting gently against her collarbone.

My hands curl around the menu and I grit my teeth as I force myself to look away. I have no business checking her out. She seems young. Too young for me. Besides, she certainly deserves better than a man with trust issues who hasn’t gotten laid in over two years. Even if she were looking for a night of fun, would I even be able to give that to her?

I clear my throat and shake my head, tossing out the ridiculous thoughts of sleeping with a girl as beautiful as her. “I’ll take a Manhattan and the chicken marsala.” I avoid her eyes, looking behind her at the wall of alcohol.

“I’ll take a beer and the deluxe burger, please,” Rhodes says, no doubt giving her a wink. Even when he’s not actively flirting with people, he’s still charming and open.

I wish I could take more after him. Instead, I’m a grumpy bastard, just like my dad.

“You got it,” Hazel says, ponytail bouncing away as she puts our order in.

Rhodes turns to me. “Would it kill you to be nice to the staff? This is your home club, after all.”