After pulling into the country club’s parking lot and parking between a Ferrari and a Porsche, Caden grunted. “Yep. I still hate this place.”
“You worked here?”
“My freshman year. My dad’s friend owns it.”
“What happened?”
He took his keys out and reached for the door handle, but paused to look at me. “I hate fake people. Guess what kind of people hang out in country clubs?” Then he was out the door and heading inside.
I didn’t have time to sit back and laugh because I agreed. He was halfway across the lot by the time I got out and hurried behind him. I caught up to him on the sidewalk, but instead of going through the main entrance, he circled around the building to a wooden patio. It was full of people eating, drinking, or just sitting and talking. Caden cut through the tables and w
