Once in the box, Greg hit first because he had honors today. After Rio had driven, Greg’s ball was only ten yards short of River’s instead of his usual twenty. Had he driven so well because happiness lifted him like a buoy on dangerous waters? He couldn’t say, but he took the distance gladly. They both made par.
Despite the fact they had torn up the sheets with wild, sweaty, sinful s*x last night, Greg had walled off any personal response he might have to River as soon as he’d hit the first ball. This was serious business. It was also important because as illegal as wagering on this sport might be in some states, money would still be changing hands for those who bet. Some bets would be chump change—five or ten bucks in the office pot—but others would be in the thousands of dollars. Beyond
