Dahlia Aldridge
I stood in front of my antique bedroom mirror, smoothing my fingers over the pale yellow sundress I’d chosen to wear for dinner tonight. My white slip-on sandals sat near the door and matched the headband I’d used to push my dark hair away from my flushed face. After a moment, I decided to slip on a pair of sunflower earrings and nodded at my reflection, happy that I didn’t look like the hot mess I felt on the inside.
Our dinners were always a relaxed affair, but I still wanted to look nice, something that had nothing to do with stupid Yates and his cocky yet unfotunately sexy smile.
Having dinner together wasn’t unusual in the least. In fact, it was usually more than just the two of our families, especially during the summer season where we could easily put barbeque on the grill out back. I had to admit, I was a bit bummed that the summer was nearly over. I loved the holidays, but there was something magical about the summer on Wildberry Lane.
Speaking of which… I walked over towards my sizable desk which faced out towards a large window and ran a finger along the green and cream colored calendar that I kept next to my laptop. My smile grew in eagerness, realizing that tomorrow was the start of the annual charity golf tournament that my family hosted on behalf of Gates Unity. I had absolutely no idea how the heck it had slipped my mind, considering it was such a big deal. Not just for me, either—no, this was a big deal for the entirety of Camellia.
In all technicality, the match itself wasn’t until Saturday, but tomorrow would be filled with a myriad of important things to do, including preparing for the event and greeting out-of-state competitors. I probably didn’t have to attend any of the events—my parents never insisted on it—but I usually enjoyed meeting all the international golfers that attended the arrival brunch at the clubhouse, and then seeing my boys all dressed up at the opening gala was something I would absolutely never miss out on.
I blamed my need to stare at them in all their tuxedo glory on the ‘artistic’ side of my brain that wanted to capture their beauty… that’s what we were going with.
Saturday would follow with even more fun, and no, it had absolutely nothing to do with the golf aspect of the event. I mean, would I enjoy myself as I drove around on a golf cart, drinking champagne and going hole to hole with our entire Wildberry Lane crew? Absolutely. This event was far different than most I’d attended throughout the country.
Unlike most matches, this one wasn’t played truly for the sport. No, this was far more about networking. It was why not only pro golfers came to it, but international business associates and political ambassadors. Up until three years ago my father had spent his time making sure to network, but now he mostly hung out with my mom and I as the younger generation made those important connections. I knew it was important for my boys to do so, and honestly, if I had even an inkling of interest in the business or politics, it could have been very useful for me.
Too bad I found both of those rather boring.
Could I talk international politics with the visiting guests? Absolutely. Could I debate trade policies? Yes. Did I want to? No. No, I absolutely did not. I would much rather take pictures of my Wildberry Lane family, creating a collection that could remind me of all these amazing moments if I ever lost my memories.
Then again, my true fear wasn’t actually losing my memory.
No, my fear was thatall of this, my extreme luck in having an amazing family that surrounded me with love and affection, was going to eventually run out. That I was going to end up with nothing except for my photographs to remind me of how much love I had once felt. My eyes moved towards the large stack of photo boxes I had, all of the printed photographs kept neatly in date order, accumulated over the course of years now. Few were of me, which was the exact way I preferred it. Of course, I also had them backed up to a hard drive as well… but there was something so satisfying about holding a photograph between your fingers. At least I thought so.
My family had always been extremely supportive of my passion. Heck, my father had even offered to ‘hire’ me for the tournament because he thought everyone should see what he called my ‘talent.’ I knew he truly meant that, but I wasn’t sure it was actually talent, because I didn’t have any true professional skill.
I just enjoyed capturing moments and possessed the right technology to do so. When I said no, I think he may have been a bit disappointed, but he asked each year, so I’m positive he assumed he could convince me by next year. I was truly glad that he supported what I did, but I also enjoyed taking the pictures I wanted, drinking Dom Pérignon, and listening to my mom and her friends gossip. I knew it seemed silly, but the small amount of girl time was a nice reprieve from the constant force of masculinity that my boys filled my life with.
Plus, my dad had the ability to make any rules that he wanted when it came to this event, so I knew he wouldn’t give up on it.
Ivy Grove Country Club was an exclusive, professional-grade golf club that was owned by not only my family, but Yates’s and the twins’ families as well. It had quickly become a focal point for our small, affluent town sometime around the 60s when my grandpa had decided to make the original purchase. Before then, it had been simply a stretch of land with some poorly marked holes in it, but the Aldridge family had brought it into its ‘golden era,’ as my grandpa still to this day recounted.
The Aldridge family had been here nearly as long as the Ross family—far over a century—and it was one of the reasons the name carried so much weight. My father had not only been best friends with King’s father throughout most of school, but when he’d met the twins’ and Yates’s fathers in their fraternity at Yale, they hadn’t hesitated to come back here to raise their families. That was when Wildberry Lane had been built up and established. I wasn’t positive how exactly Stratton’s family had come into the mix, but they’d been a fundamental part of the community and had sort of capped off the closeness of our small group.
With that being said, it wasn’t all that surprising that my father hadn’t hesitated to split up the property with both of his best friends once his father had transferred the country club’s ownership to him. King had never asked his father why he hadn’t joined in on the deal, but I knew that they were pretty heavily invested in their trade deals overseas, so maybe it had something to do with mixing business and pleasure? Honestly, I could have asked for far more details than what I’d somewhat accumulated over time, but I figured if anything was important, they would let me know.
Once taking ownership, though, the three families had rebranded Ivy Grove into what it was today. A professional club with extremely strict rules, covering everything from who could accompany members to what you could wear inside of the property. It was regarded as one of the best courses in the country, and for those that were members, you also had access to some exclusive benefits, especially during the summer season.
At night, and only available during the summer, there was a ‘no guest’ rule, and the property became far more private. It became a place to unwind, and considering the absurd membership fee, it made sense that there was a level of privacy that was assured to all guests. I mean, the country club had some amazing facilities, from the clubhouse restaurant that featured a Michelin star chef to the luxury pool, tennis courts, and golf course… but to pay a half a million dollars for an initiation fee? I still felt like that was somewhat insane.
Maybe everyone around me was just crazy.
Normally the club closed around five, but during the summer season, members were able to carry their party on far into the night. However, for one weekend a year, everyone that was part of the tournament was invited for an evening gala on the night before the tournament and a much more exciting event the night after.
That was the part I was most excited about.
In the far back of the property, there was a stunning man-made lake that my father had built up with a massive fire pit and stone benches, and following the charity match each year, the entire space would come to life with drinks, music, and laughter, and for just a few hours, all the stiffness associated with our town and the club itself was gone. I think it was probably one of my favorite events all year, and I hadn’t been all that surprised when my father had agreed to hold it, because despite the strict business standards of the club, my dad was pretty chill.
He was also a total dork, and I was very hesitant to believe Yates’s father, who claimed that my dad was a ‘shark’ in the boardroom. I mean… this was the guy who still kept a comic book collection in his office that he had inherited from his own father. The guy who dressed up with me every single Halloween, going from office to office at his workplace, just so I could trick-or-treat safely. Yeah, I suppose that made me a bit spoiled, right? I mean, it wasn’t like I wasn’t thankful! He had literally worn a dragon costume to work and hadn’t blinked an eye about doing so in front of everyone that worked for him.
I’m pretty sure that earned him a ‘best dad ever’ award or something.
That didn’t even include the fact that I knew he and my mom had both been partyers at Yale. I’d come across a photo of them sitting on a couch, clearly at a party, with joints in their hands and smiling at each other like total lovesick puppies. It had literally been both adorable and hilarious. My mom hadn’t been happy about me finding it since I’d been only fourteen at the time, but now my father had it framed in his office… so clearly not that upset.
If my mom was upset about something, everyone, and I literally meaneveryone, knew. Not because of her, either. No, that was all my dad. So it wouldn’t be in his office if she had that much of an issue with it.
Andyes,if you were wondering who suggested the event be added to the schedule a few years back… it was me. I hadn’t expected it to be quite as popular as it was now, if we were being honest, because at the time, I’d sort of just been looking for a reason to continue to hang out with my boys later into the night and possibly impress some of my classmates whose parents were members of the club.