When April's husband learned a prospective client was a golfer he took him to Pelton Pines. It was a beautiful course, never crowded. Wik Altman found it the ideal place to seal a bargain. He took April there, in fact, when he proposed to her eight years ago. He was working on a big deal today, a veritable whale, and he had to press his wife into service.
The prospective client was bringing his wife, which meant April would have to babysit her while Wik worked his magic. At least Mrs. Alder was a golfer so April wouldn't be cooped up all day in the clubhouse. Mrs. Alder, or Maris as she preferred to be called, turned out to be an attractive, vivacious woman, much younger than her husband. They got to know each other on the hour-long drive in the Maybach and by the time they were ready to tee off, April had very much taken a liking to the woman.
The men were both expert golfers and very competitive so they quickly outpaced their wives. Little by little, the women were left behind. They didn't mind. They were enjoying the weather and each other's company. When April chipped onto the seventh hole green, a gust of wind whipped her skirt and briefly exposed a little more than was modest. She gave an embarrassed laugh and smoothed her hem.
"You're wearing a skirt," Maris observed as they followed their balls, pulling their rolling bags behind them. "Most girls wear skorts on the links these days."
April shrugged. "I don't mind if someone gets a glimpse of panty."
"What if someone wanted more than a glimpse?"
April stared dumbly ahead of her, wondering if she heard Maris right. If a man asked her that she would slap his face. But it wasn't a man asking, it was a woman... a woman of consequence, as it happened.
