Straight to Heaven (12 page)

Golfing has never been my thing. My dad had tried to interest me in the sport and had even paid for lessons when I was in high school, but I’d never taken to it. Even when Ted and I were members of the country club, I eschewed golf clubs for a tennis racket. In fact, the only remotely interesting part about the game was the nineteenth hole which is where I hoped I would be meeting my client.

At least I was doing my dirty work in a pretty place. The impeccably-groomed course nestled among rolling hills that, by Detroit standards, would be considered mountains. White paths ran from one immaculate green to another, and the fairways were hemmed in by borders of woods. It was certainly nicer than the post office where I’d first met Craig.

Stretched over the clubhouse doorway was an enormous banner reading, “Welcome to the 15th Annual Leukemia Golf Outing.” The crowd by the sign-in table was mostly sixty-something couples with graying hair and dark tans. Nearly all of the men wore hats, khaki pants, and polo shirts, while the women opted for white visors, wide-strapped tank tops, and shorts. Absolutely no one was wearing strappy sandals or Marc Jacobs anything.

Approaching the sign-in table, I drew stares. I even heard a snicker. I kept my head up, ignoring the looks. “Hi, I’m Lilith Straight,” I said.

At least someone had done their homework, for my name was printed among the other registrants’. I was signed in by a sour-faced man whose gray mustache was so large and bushy that it looked like a dead opossum under his nose. “You can’t wear those on the course.” He pointed to my sandals.

“But I don’t have anything else.” I gave a delicate laugh, trying to sound silly and inoffensive.

He wasn’t fazed. “Then visit the pro shop.”

With a sigh of resignation, I made my way to the pro shop where I was forced to listen to an overeager salesman pitch me the benefits of ugly, white shoes.

When I finally left the store, someone said, “It’s a shame that those shoes don’t come in your color.”

There he was, my latest assignment. My demon knew it immediately. Picking him out of the crowd was as easy as choosing a rotting apple from a basket of fruit.

It was time to shine. “It’s my own fault, I’m afraid. I’ve never golfed before and, well, I didn’t know what to expect.”

Of course, it was exactly the right thing to say. My assignment, Leo, was more than willing to tell me not only about the game, but about the course, the clubhouse, and the event. “It’s a four-player scramble,” he said. “We all tee off, and the ball closest to the hole is the one that’s used to mark where we hit from next.”

For a man who was probably as old as my father, Leo was fairly good-looking. He had the same tan as the other players, and had been graced with a head of perfectly silver hair. He was a little too thin for my taste – his bony legs and knees stuck out like broomsticks from beneath his white shorts – but otherwise, he wasn’t bad.

“I see your name is Lilith.” He brushed my nametag with his index finger, purposely grazing the top of my breast with the rest of his hand. What a letch. “We’re on the same team,” he said.

I let my smile deepen. “What a coincidence,” I said. However, I was thinking that we were not on the same team. Not by a long shot.

It took only two holes before I hated Leo as much as I’d ever hated anyone, and that included my ex-husband, my ex-mother-in-law, and Miss Spry.

His frequent use of double entendres – “Let me put you down for a
stroke
” – made my skin crawl. Then there was his constant bragging about his new watch – a Rolex, his ocean-view condo – in St. Croix, and his boat – a who-gives-a-shit. Even I, someone who appreciated designer labels, was soon sick to death of his relentless name dropping. I also hated the way he made fun of our golfing partners: a sweet-tempered, pudgy pair named Babs and Henry who looked so much alike in their pressed pants and red shirts that they might have been matching salt-and-pepper shakers.

Like Craig, Leo deserved a push in the wrong direction, and I was happy to do the shoving. I didn’t feel the least bit guilty when I considered the best way to lead him into temptation.

By the time we reached the third hole, my phone had buzzed with several text messages. One was from Grace asking me if the DVR had taped her favorite show – it had – and the others were from Ari.

I don’t feel good
, she said.

What’s wrong
, I asked.

I dunno. Stomach hurts
.

Ari wasn’t really a malingerer; however, the stomach issue had been a recurring problem since she’d been staying with me. I was pretty sure I knew the cause.
When’s the last time you pooped?
Believe me, that is something I never thought I’d be texting. I hoped that no one in Homeland Security was paying attention.

Gross
, she replied. Then, a few minutes later, she added,
Maybe that’s it
.

“Lilith!” Leo shouted. “You’re up.”

I slipped the phone into my pocket and approached the tee. “Sorry. It’s my niece. She’s not feeling well.”

He harrumphed. “How is that your problem?”

I picked a driver from my bag. “I’m her caregiver. Sort of.”

“Cell phones do not belong on the course,” he said, “and kids should be locked up until they’re old enough to move out on their own.”

Such a nice guy. It was hard to believe that Miss Spry needed any help with this one. I teed up the ball and took a practice swing. When I lined up to hit the ball for real, my phone buzzed again, throwing me off. I ended up tapping the ball so that it dribbled off the tee and rolled a few inches down the fairway.

Leo crowed, “I told you so! See what happens when you take your phone on the links?”

So he was a poor winner as well. He kept getting better and better.

When we teed off at the fourth hole, my drive was perfect, and my ball was the closest to the hole. Leo grudgingly told me, “Nice job,” but then added, “Beginner’s luck.”

On the fifth hole, my tiny, dimpled ball once more flew down the fairway, eclipsing everyone else’s. Babs and Henry both congratulated me, but Leo looked like he wanted to break his driver over his knee. “I thought you said you’d never played before.”

I was all wide-eyed innocence. “I played once in high school.” Having an inner demon, however, did wonders for my golf game.

“And those clubs she’s using are rentals,” Babs pointed out.

“Well, isn’t that special,” Leo said. He’d been bragging about his own clubs nonstop, constantly pestering me to guess how much they cost.

When we took the cart to the next hole, Leo refused to talk to me. The caddy who was riding on the back leaned close to me and whispered, “From the way you’re messing up your job, I’m thinking you’ve decided to start working for
us
.”

Shocked, I turned around to face the kid who had been lugging my clubs for the past three holes. “I beg your pardon?”

He treated me to an impertinent smile. He looked to be about sixteen. He had a daub of zinc oxide on his nose, and a smattering of acne on his cheeks. When he took off his sunglasses, I saw that his mocking eyes were brilliantly blue.

Another angel. Wonderful. “Let me guess. You’re here to screw this up for me,” I whispered, furious.

The caddy shrugged. “You’re doing a pretty good job of screwing this up yourself.”

“I’ve got it covered,” I said, turning around.

“If you say so.”

Deciding the angel was right – I really
was
messing up my assignment – I held back on the next hole, making sure to drop my right arm so that the ball hooked into the woods alongside the fairway.

“I knew that your beginner’s luck would run out,” Leo gloated.

We were only on the sixth hole, but I was ready to go home. The new golf shoes pinched worse than my sandals had, and I was bored stiff. I wanted to be back at my pool, fifty pages deep in a novel, not here with Leo. It was time to get down to seducing.

“Would you please help me find my ball?” I sent him a high-powered charge of my succubus’s allure.

“Of course.” He smiled like he’d been saving the last, little blue pill in the bottle just for me.

The moment we were out of sight of the others, I said, “Have you golfed for this charity before?”

“Yes.” He was only inches behind me.

“It’s a great cause, isn’t it? Cancer research…”

Leo grabbed my butt.

My stomach quivered with revulsion, but I hung onto my smile. I sidestepped out of his reach. “The outing must raise a lot of money for the cause.” My demon sensed a slight change in Leo’s demeanor, so I pressed on. “How much do you think it will bring in? Ten thousand? Twenty?”

“Two-hundred fifty.”

“
Thousand
?” I whistled. “That’s an impressive amount of money.”

Leo looked away. His jaw muscle twitched. “Like you said. It’s for a good cause.”

“Are you sure?” As much as I hated to, I moved in closer to give him the full effect of my charm. “When you think about it, isn’t cancer research just a big scam? I mean, with all the money we pump into these charities’ coffers, you’d think they would have made
some
headway on the disease.”

I couldn’t read the thoughts churning in Leo’s head, but one thing I did know for sure: I was moments away from a successful temptation. “Do they
really
need to take your money, too? Don’t you need it more?”

When I stepped closer towards him, something small and round pressed under my foot. The golf ball! I automatically looked down to see it, and when I looked back up, I found myself being kissed by a man who was as old as my father.

Taking advantage of my surprise, Leo backed me up against a tree and pinned me there while forcing my teeth apart with his tongue. One hand found its way to my breasts while the other traveled up my skirt. He was old, but he was agile. It took every ounce of demon control I had to not get sick all over my new, white shoes.

I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back. “Hold on there, cowboy,” I told him. “We’ve still got a game to win.” I attempted to move away from the tree, but he moved as well, blocking my exit.

“I don’t care about the game,” he said, once more grabbing for my breast.

Furious, I shoved him again, this time so hard that he took a step backwards. It only threw him off for a second and before I could get away, he leaned against me and put a hand around my throat. “You’ve been teasing me all morning,” he said. “I think it’s time for you to shut up and put out.”

How could things go so wrong so fast?! And where the hell was all his anger coming from? Desperate, I searched for a doorway to Hell but saw nothing. Damn! I was trapped.

I needed to get ahold of the situation and fast. “It’s okay,” I said, sending out my allure to calm him down. “Really, Leo. Everything is fine.”

Unfortunately, instead of calming him down, the demon’s energy revved him up until his eyes blazed. “Do
not
tell me it’s okay!”

I knew I mustn’t panic, yet it was impossible not to. I grabbed his wrist to break his hold, but he was too strong. I cried to my succubus for help, and she rewarded me with a surge of energy. With a grunt, I wrestled free. I raised my knee, ready to deliver a blow to the crotch, but Leo surprised me by stepping away and grabbing the golf club he’d been holding under his arm. He jerked the club over his head, ready to swing it at my face, and I flung my arms up to protect myself.

“Aren’t you two ever coming out of the woods?” the caddy called from the edge of the fairway.

For a few heartbeats, I thought Leo was still going to swing. Then he slowly dropped his club and stalked away. Shaken, I closed my eyes and pressed my hands to my heart which was galloping in my chest.

The angel walked over to me. “Having fun yet?”

“No, I am
not
having fun.” I straightened my skirt and brushed the flakes of tree trunk from my shoulders. Thanks to Leo, my blouse now had a rip under the sleeve. “Remind me why you’re here again?”

“You mean besides saving you from being raped?” He winked. “I’ve got a counteroffer for you.”

“Counteroffer?”

“Yes,” he said. “Harmony told me about what happened at the bowling alley.” He shook his head. “You made it into Heaven. That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, and?”

“No demon
ever
goes into Heaven and survives the trip.”

So I was one of a kind. Nice to know. Still, the information wasn’t helping me to tempt Leo. Or Craig. “I’m kind of busy right now. Can we do this later?”

“This is simple. If you back off from Craig, I’ll tell you why you can get into Heaven.”

I picked up my golf ball and headed towards the green. “I don’t
care
why I can get in.”

“But it could lead to a way for you to protect your daughter from Helen.”

I paused. Maybe it would be good to know why I could pass through the pearly gates. Then again, I didn’t need Heaven’s help to save my daughter. Once I tempted Craig, Grace would be free. “How about this instead. If you stay away from Craig, I won’t go into Heaven anymore.”

“Sorry. No can do.”

It figured. Before I left the gloomy woods and returned to the overly bright fairway, I told the angel, “If you won’t stay away from Craig, then at least keep away from me.”

He did. But then I was forced to carry my own clubs for the next ten holes.

Five hours later, I left the golf course exhausted, sweaty, and completely frustrated. Despite my repeated attempts to re-seduce Leo, he’d walled himself off from my charms. The worst part was that, when he did write the check, I saw that it was only for thirty dollars. Leo was not only a braggart, a letch, and a poor loser, he was also a cheapskate.

Before going home, I decided to stop and explain to Mr. Clerk why I’d failed yet another assignment. Hopefully, if I went to him first, he would plead my case to Miss Spry.

Mr. Clerk was at his desk. When he saw me, he made a face. “You look terrible.”

“Eighteen holes of golf will do that to a person.” I wearily sank down on the edge of his desk.

“You played eighteen holes of golf. Wearing
that
?”