How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 199

Jarrod and Mr. Patrick looked over.

Joseph seemed intrigued too. "Let's hear it?"

Maurice glanced at Sylvie, then shot a loaded look at Elodie. "Well, since we've got only two ladies here today, why don't we have a little contest-let's see whose game is better?"

Elodie paused in mid-motion.

She looked up and realized everyone's eyes were on her.

Sylvie smiled, her tone unreadable. "Maurice, you're always full of ideas."

Maurice shrugged. "The rest of us already played a few rounds. Thought it'd be fun to watch you two go head-to-head. Right, Jarrod?"

Jarrod looked up at him, expression cool. "Shouldn't you ask the ladies how they feel about it first?"

Sylvie twirled her club confidently. "I'm game if Elodie is."

Which, of course, put the ball in Elodie's court.

Elodie quietly averted her gaze. "I'm not much of a golfer, honestly."

She wasn't about to force herself into a losing match. But she understood what Maurice was getting at. He knew Sylvie was practically a pro-pitting them against each other would be an easy way to embarrass her.

He probably figured Elodie would agree out of pride, with so many people watching.

much of a golfer? So you know the basics, at least." Maurice gave her no way out. "We could

no real reason to

Elodie frowned slightly.

Patrick watching Maurice's arrangements with clear amusement. In the end, she

turning to Elodie. Then he looked at Sylvie, his tone suggestive. "As for Sylvie, that's obvious—she'll team up

quirking in a faint smile, saying nothing.

grinned and gave Maurice a

who knew the inside story, glanced at Elodie

head down,

golfer. I've never even beaten him myself. If you just assign partners, aren't

a hand. "Let's draw

Maurice coughed. "Fine, sure..."

in the competition, so she picked a ball at

mood in the group

ended up

"That can't be right! Let's try

abruptly said, "No need. Let's keep it

upset in

like it's you and me, Jarrod. Let's see who scores

match, but with Sylvie, it felt

with effortless intimacy, as if no one

curled