Free Stroke of Love by Melissa Foster

Caleb came from around the side of the cabins and caught up to him.
    “Sage Remington, right?” Caleb was soft-spoken, his stringy bangs hung in front of his eyes, and he fidgeted nervously with the edge of his T-shirt.
    “Yes. Caleb, right?” Sage held the beer toward him. “Want a cold one?”
    “No, thank you.”
    “Do you mind talking while we walk? These will boil if I don’t get them in the fridge soon.”
    “Sure.” They walked into the mess hall. “Heard you’re going to paint the school.”
    “Wow, word travels fast. That’s what we hope to do, anyway. So you run the elderly and community outreach programs?” Sage asked.
    “Yeah. We distribute medication and food and visit community members to see what other needs we can meet.” He helped Sage load the beer into the refrigerator. “Your brother is Kurt Remington, the novelist, right?”
    Sage wiped the condensation from his hands and smiled. “Yeah, that’s right. You familiar with his books?”
    Caleb’s thin lips curved into a smile. “He’s the best. I’ve read all of his books.”
    “Yeah? I’ll have to connect you with him. He’d love to hear that.” They headed back out of the building.
    “Really? You’d do that?” He brushed his bangs from his forehead. “That’s really cool of you. Thank you. I’m a big fan. I’m actually writing while I’m here. That’s why you don’t see me around much. I’m sure it’s not very good, but…”
    “Hey, don’t say that. If you don’t believe in yourself, who will?” Sage heard a car rumbling down the road.
    “That would be the celebs,” Caleb said.
    “The celebs. That’s what you call the volunteers?” Sage slid him a look. Part of him hoped to see Kate as they headed back to the cabins, and another part of him was still annoyed that she’d given credence to Rush’s comments.
    “Well…yeah. I mean, in a day or two the photographers will show up and take their pictures with some of the residents. They’ll get all the media they want, and then they’ll go back to the States and never think of the people here again.”
    Sage’s muscles tensed. “Okay, fair enough. I can see that. But don’t lump me in as a celeb, please. I’m an artist, not a celebrity, and I’m here because I want to be here. I don’t have a PR person with me, and I don’t have press that’ll cover the trip. This is just me being me.”
    “Cool. You can be the non . As in non-celeb.”
    Clayton, Penelope, and Cassidy stumbled out of the car in fits of laughter. Caleb nodded toward them. “See? They haven’t done one thing for the elderly or the community, but when those cameras are rolling? Whole different story.”
    “Hey, Sage!” Penelope yelled.
    Sage narrowed his eyes. “They’ve gotta be plastered. She hasn’t said two words to me since we arrived.” He raised a hand in greeting, then turned his attention back to Caleb. “Hey, you wanna grab some dinner in town?”
    Caleb shrugged. “Sure.”
    As they turned back toward the road, thundering feet stopped them in their tracks. Penelope and Cassidy chased after them in their skimpy skirts and barely there tops. They wore flat designer sandals. Behind them, Clayton jogged to catch up in his cowboy boots and jeans. Clayton was a hair taller than Sage, and while he was a stocky, muscular guy, probably two thirty or so, Sage’s chest was broader and his muscles more pronounced.
    “Wait!” Penelope yelled.
    “Aw, shit,” Sage mumbled.
    “Dude, you should have gone into town. This place is dead, but the city? Man, it’s a wild place,” Clayton said. “It was kick-ass.”
    Sage noticed how none of the three of them had even acknowledged Caleb, and he wasn’t going to allow them to ignore him. “You guys remember Caleb.”
    “Hey, bud. How’s it hanging?” Clayton slapped Caleb on the back.
    “Hi, Caleb,” Penelope and Cassidy said in unison. Penelope linked arms with Sage.
    He tried to pull away, but she wrapped her other hand