Nerd Guy Taste Makeover (9)
“…….”
“…….”
A cool breeze drifted past. Even the most pleasant spring wind was powerless to dispel the uncomfortable silence inside the golf cart.
“Young people these days really don't warm up to strangers, do they? Strong individualist streaks, I'll say that.”
As Representative Woo swept her gaze over the cart's occupants, Ga-hee shrugged and looked pointedly at the culprits responsible for this atmosphere.
Seated diagonally from each other, Geon-joo and Ju-ri stared off in opposite directions, saying nothing.
Amid an air as dry as undercooked potatoes, the game began.
“That's about 140 yards to the green. Not much wind today.”
Representative Woo narrowed her eyes, sized up the hole, and took the first swing. When her ball rolled steadily to a safe landing on the fairway, Ga-hee broke into applause.
“Representative Woo, your driver's on fire today!”
“Must be the sunshine. Everything's landing right where I want it.”
She smiled in satisfaction and shot Geon-joo a sidelong glance.
“Well? Think you can play a decent round today?”
“About the same as usual.”
“You'd better play better than usual. There's money on the line!”
“I never agreed to it.”
“You didn't oppose it either. You didn't say a word.”
Geon-joo shut his mouth.
Ah, the betting game.
Ju-ri, who had completely forgotten, parted her lips slightly, then furrowed her brow.
Wagering was common enough in golf, so she'd wondered if it would happen here too—and her prediction had landed dead on. On a course in this condition, with this many players, a million won would get devoured with ease. Split with the partner you came with or not, it was still a painful sum.
If the members of this gathering were all wealthy enough to run in Ga-hee's circle, the game fee would be nothing. But as it stood, a casual day of fun was shaping up to cost her a cool million.
Thankfully, she wasn't a bad golfer. Wherever she went, she'd always been middle of the pack.
Just don't come in last out of ten. That's all I need.
Wouldn't it be entertaining, though, if Han Geon-joo the penny-pincher himself landed in dead last?
Not that she was cursing him. She was simply curious how he'd react.
If he did lose, she'd pitch in a little for him. Consider it a donation toward those glasses he flat-out refused to buy.
Ju-ri's stance going into the betting game was more serious than it had ever been for anything in her life.
But must there be a price for wishing misfortune on others?
Thwack!
“Oh no! The ball rolled right between the trees.”
She punched out with a punch shot, barely escaping.
Thwack!
“Oh no! Of all places, straight into the bunker. And there's another one right in front!”
Of course she'd clip the lip on the way out, burning three strokes just to get free.
Thwack!
“Huh? Now it's stuck behind a tree!”
Then came the final hole. Thwack.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, her ball rolled on.
“Ah, it's going in.”
Ga-hee's murmur brushed past Ju-ri's ears. You don't say that when someone's putting—haven't you ever heard of jinxing? Ju-ri glared with all her might. The ball tumbled toward the hole. Just as it threatened to drop, it circled the rim—sliiide—and slid back out, stopping right beside the cup.
“Awww…!”
Sympathetic groans rose from all around.
Ju-ri's face crumpled.
How could one day be this unlucky?
It was all that stingy cheapskate's fault. In any other moment he wouldn't so much as turn his head her way, but the instant she set her stance, he stared holes through her—and that insidious gaze had quietly gotten under her skin….
A flimsy excuse, sure. But still.
Someone else, on the other hand, was having a spectacular game.
Thwack!
The ball flew dead straight and dropped straight into the hole. A tee shot so clean it looked like the cup had swallowed it whole.
Ju-ri doubted her own eyes.
He's good?
How does that workout freak drive like that?
“Wow, a hole in one…. Geon-joo, your game is on point today!”
“Amazing, Mr. Han.”
Clap…. clap….
Ju-ri brought her hands together with all the enthusiasm of a hostage.
“You must have played a lot of golf.”
At her muttered remark, Representative Woo let out a hearty laugh.
“This one's a natural athlete. Golf's not the half of it. I've taken him around to all kinds of games—he plays a mean game of billiards, great at tennis, and I swear he's even run a full marathon? There's nothing he can't do. And look at that build—he's built better than the pro golfers I know.”
“Oh my, you're right. He could've gone pro.”
The shower of praise from Representative Woo and Ga-hee continued long after.
Good at sports, is he?
That man took a ball to the face off my club and bled from both nostrils.
Ju-ri couldn't believe it, but the results were right in front of her—she had no grounds to argue.
So he had a hidden ace up his sleeve.
Then again, would someone like him have so readily agreed to a bet if he didn't? Hah—she scoffed, and then her mind snapped sharply awake.
Wait. Does that mean my score is the lowest of the four of us?
The last-place spot she'd assumed was far away was suddenly looming right before her eyes.
By the time the other team finished their game, everyone had moved to a private dining room.
“Oh no, what do I do. I think I came in lowest.”
“There, there, honey, it's fine. You've got me, don't you? Didn't you see me paying for you?”
A sickeningly sweet exchange. The only reason a conversation she'd normally have ignored outright looked so unpleasant was that the man cooing those words was the very person who'd proposed the bet in the first place.
On the walk back to the clubhouse, the verdant green hills glittered, fresh and bright.
A fortune about to be bled out of her—and the weather had to be this gorgeous.
The strength drained from Ju-ri's eyes.
Relax. There's no way I'm actually in last place.
Her luck hadn't held, granted, but she didn't think she'd broken a hundred strokes. Back when she'd first started golf, determined to beat 100, she'd hit the screen golf range after work and played full rounds on weekends.
She'd played worse than usual, yes, but hardly her absolute worst.
Besides, that lovey-dovey couple hadn't looked all that skilled either. Having been unable to watch the other team's round, Ju-ri soothed her anxiety with wishful thinking.
Come on, no way I'm last. Me?
The people seated around the spacious table in the private room began tallying scores.
“Mi-hyeon, you shot an 89!”
“Really? Oh thank god. I didn't break 90!”
You said you'd be the lowest, huh.
So your bar for disaster was a 90?
Deceived by a charlatan.
Tuning out the couple celebrating their miracle, Ju-ri waited with monk-like resignation for her own score.
There was no way she was in last. Ten people—you had to expect at least one complete beginner among them.
Soon, everyone's scores were revealed.
Names written out in ranking order, and….
Ju-ri's gaze slid all the way down.
The very last line: Shin Ju-ri. 97 strokes.
Ninety-seven. A shame, but not terrible. But hold on—that's last place…
BOOM!
A boulder came crashing down on her head.
“Ju-ri, luck just wasn't on your side today.”
Ga-hee consoled her in a pitying voice. Ju-ri answered blankly.
“A 97 isn't exactly bad golf, is it?”
“You used to shoot in the low 80s, remember?”
“Those were my good days…. A 97 isn't last-place material, come on.”
Ju-ri pulled a face on the verge of tears.
“Unni, why is the standard here so high?”
“There's a pro golfer in the group. You didn't know?”
How would I know that?
“Haah… now I've dragged you into last place with me. You could've played just badly enough….”
Even as she said it, she was dumbfounded. A 97 wasn't that bad, was it?
“If you put it that way, I've got nothing to say. I'd have covered for you if I'd placed in the upper half myself.”
The betting game's rules totaled each partner pair's scores and averaged them. Ga-hee had placed mid-pack, and averaged with last-place Ju-ri, their combined score came in the lowest.
“Nothing to be done about it. Time for some austerity measures.”
“Cutting back on shopping?”
At Ga-hee's teasing question, Ju-ri scrunched up her face.
“That's going a bit far….”
“Shall I be your white knight, then?”
An unfamiliar voice cut in out of nowhere. Ju-ri turned her head. What was his name again? They'd exchanged greetings when they first met, then been split onto different teams—she only knew his face. A sporty, swept-back hairstyle and smooth, polished skin. A young man right around her age. The type who took reasonable care of himself.
“You? Kim Jae-hyeong, you're going to be my white knight?”
Ah, right. Kim Jae-hyeong. That was his name.
“Why, don't you like it?”
“Wouldn't you hate it?”
“Then why that reaction?”
“I'm just surprised you'd ever do something nice for me.”
“Haven't I done plenty of things to help you out, noona?”
“Like when.”
“…Did I not?”
“I still remember you fleecing me out of a million won playing hold'em last time, and you're telling me what? You wouldn't even spot me ten grand, you shameless man.”
“Huh?”
Jae-hyeong blinked in confusion, then shot Ju-ri a sidelong glance. Ga-hee narrowed her eyes and muttered, “Well, look at this guy?”