Phoebe saw Barrett Stern pushing his way toward her. Above, Harding watched from the balcony, nursing his bandaged hand. Her work here was done. She blew Harding a kiss and saw him flinch. He’d always hated to be thwarted. It was his Achilles heel, the pressure point they planned to jab over and over until he betrayed himself and gave them the game.
She’d have to gloat later though. The game would be over if Stern got his hands on her. He was covering ground fast, despite the sudden surge toward the now-ready refreshment table. Phoebe picked up her pace, counting off the distance to the clubhouse in footsteps and heartbeats. There was always risk when you pulled the tiger’s tail, but she didn’t intend to be counted out just yet.
She passed through the door with quick thanks and a smile t
