Match Play Read Online Free Page A

few stretching exercises.
    The movement snagged the attention of a woman two stalls down. Obviously an amateur, the observer violated range etiquette by calling an excited greeting.
    â€œHi, Dayna! I’m Ann Foster. I saw you were registered for this tournament. Hope we get to play together.”
    Reluctant to disturb the others’ concentration, Dayna merely smiled and tipped her club in response. The golfer in the next bay, however, wasn’t nearly as restrained.
    â€œTak-cho!” Wu Kim Li followed her disgusted exclamation with an immediate translation. “That mean be quiet. We practice here.”
    Kim Li turned her back on the now thoroughly embarrassed amateur. Eyes narrow, she raked Dayna from the brim of her ball cap to her soft-spike shoes. She was sizing up the competition obviously, or trying to pysch her out.
    No stranger to the guerilla warfare of sports, Dayna teed up a ball and swung. Her driver connected with a solid whap. The ball soared in a high, smooth arc. With another loud crack, it bounced off the metal sign designating the two-hundred-and-fifty-yards mark.
    Not bad for a first practice shot. Not bad at all—unless, of course, you were trying to worm your way into the good graces of a rival sports star like Wu Kim Li.
    Dayna could feel the competitive vibes eddying across the stall as the North Korean addressed her ball. With a whoosh, Wu’s driver sliced through the air.
    Two seventy.
    Dayna teed up, swung again.
    Two seventy-five.
    Wu’s driver descended, connected.
    Three hundred, or close enough to generate an outburst of spontaneous applause from the women who’d interrupted their practice to watch the impromptu competition. Wu accepted the ovation as her due and unbent enough to offer Dayna a grudging compliment.
    â€œYour swing very good.”
    â€œNot as good as yours.”
    â€œI young,” Wu said with a careless shrug. “Have more strength.”
    Yeah, right. Dayna would love to plunk the little twerp into a kayak, drop her in Alberta’s Castle River during the spring runoff and let her see what kind of strength it took to finish the course.
    Trying her damnedest to sound friendly, she teed up another ball. “They draw for the initial pairings at the banquet tonight. Maybe we’ll play together.”
    Wu turned away with another shrug.
    Â 
    The kickoff banquet was held at the venerable Royal and Ancient Golf Clubhouse.
    Showered, shaved and looking ruggedly handsome in tan slacks and a navy blazer with an embroidered Military Marksmanship Association patch on its pocket, Mike escorted Dayna into a banquet hall lavish with eighteenth-century crown moldings and intricately patterned parquet floors. Tables laden with glowing candles and sparkling crystal added to the elegant atmosphere. The waiters wore tuxedos, the women were in cocktail dresses and many of the Scottish tournament officials sported kilts. The talk, however, was all sports.
    Dayna introduced Mike to some of the greats in women’s golf, many of whom said graciously that they hoped to draw her for a partner. She also met a number of the amateurs who, like her, had interrupted busy professional lives to play in this charity tournament. All the while she and Mike kept steering toward their targets.
    â€œThere they are,” Dayna murmured, indicating the Wus with a small nod.
    The Koreans stood in the middle of a swarm of TV execs and tournament officials. The group also included Kim Li’s support team—her manager, her trainer, her agent, her PR rep, her bodyguards. Every one of them, Dayna knew, charged with ensuring that North Korea’s darling and her father returned home after the tournament.
    Kim Li spotted their approach and summoned them into her royal presence with a lift of her chin. Her dark eyes were all over Mike as Dayna made the intros.
    â€œThis is my friend, Mike Callahan.”
    â€œThis my father, Dr. Wu Xia-Dong.”
    Both