Wells: He’s your limousine driver. I don’t fuck around when it comes to my girl.
Josephine stopped in the middle of the busy walkway, bouncing right to left on the balls of her feet for a good five seconds before continuing on her way.
Josephine: You really didn’t have to do that.
Wells: Happy birthday, Josephine. Finally making it up to you. x
She frowned a little bit over that last message. What did he mean by “making it up to her”？ She would find out when she reached the hotel, she guessed, but for now, she wanted nothing more than to get out of the busy airport. Sure enough, when she rolled her carry-on through baggage claim, a white-mustached man in a suit and jaunty cap was holding a sign that read wells’s belle. Despite her protests, he took over the duties of maneuvering her bag through the people traffic, leading her out onto the sidewalk, where a champagne-colored stretch limousine idled.
“Oh my gosh,” she muttered, opening the door and throwing herself inside as quickly as possible, so no one would see her partaking in something so needlessly extravagant.
“Surprise!”
The interior of the limousine was dark, save for a row of blinking blue LED lights along the perimeter of the ceiling, so it took Josephine’s eyes a moment to adjust enough to make out the figure sitting on the opposite side of the vehicle.
Even then, she didn’t quite believe it. Her eyes had to be lying.
“Tallulah?”
Josephine didn’t know it was physically possible to have tears burst forth from her eyeballs, but that’s exactly what happened. They ejected. Trembling and overcome, she crawled on her hands and knees to the front of the limousine, her best friend meeting her halfway. Laughing tearfully, they threw their arms around each other and toppled sideways onto the leather row seat. It took a full minute for Josephine to speak, words kept getting stuck in her throat. Was this real? Was this really, actually real?
“What are you doing here?” Josephine sobbed, pulling back to look at one of her favorite faces of all time, before diving back into the hug.
“Keeping the secret has been so hard. I’ve wanted to call you a hundred times.”
“When? H-how?”
“Wells Whitaker, that’s how. He emailed me a couple of weeks ago and asked what it would take to bring me in for a visit. When he finally convinced me he was Actual Wells Whitaker, I told him it would take an act of God to get me days off and a trip to California. And he said, ‘Then you’re in luck. Have your boss give me a call.’ I think he promised her tickets to Augusta or something.” Tallulah grasped the sides of Josephine’s face. “You are caddying on the PGA Tour, Joey. I repeat, you are caddying on the PGA flipping Tour.”
“I know. I know, right?”
“You weren’t joking on the phone!”
“Nope.” Josephine plopped back on her butt on the floor of the limo, still swiping at the moisture in her eyes. “I can’t believe he did this.”
Finally making it up to you.
This was repayment for the time he’d hung up on Tallulah.
Unbelievable.
He was unbelievable.
“I’m not even going to get mad at him for yelling the C-word.”
Tallulah nodded in agreement. “Everyone has to yell it once in a while.”
Josephine laughed. Reached out to trace her best friend’s prominent cheekbones that, despite her time in Antarctica, still held the glowing, natural tan that heralded her Turkish background. She traced her dark brows and smoothed a palm down her long, brunette waves. “How long are you here for?”
Tallulah winced. “Therein lies the rub. Only one full day, I’m afraid.”
Josephine’s heart sank a little. “You won’t even be able to watch one day of golf?”
“No,” her friend said, straight-faced. “And I’m devastated.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” Josephine shook her head. “Golf was never your thing.”
“That might be true, but I wanted to see you in action, Joey. This research study is going to be over in a month, though, and then I’m there. Front freaking row.”
Josephine didn’t want to ruin the incredible moment by explaining she probably wouldn’t be caddying for Wells in a month’s time. It would start a whole conversation she wasn’t ready to have yet. Not even with Tallulah. And those voice mails from Nate were still ringing in her ears. If Wells couldn’t be on good behavior for one day without her, what chance would he stand without her . . . indefinitely?