Cecilia
Yvonne was already waiting at the practice range when I arrived, lounging against a golf cart with effortless confidence. She wore a canary yellow one-piece sports dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the hem just short enough to tease. Her sun-kissed skin glowed under the light, and her long, honey-blonde waves tumbled over her shoulders like something out of a shampoo commercial. She looked like a walking summer fantasy—bold, radiant, and utterly unapologetic.
Her eyes swept over me, and her perfectly arched brow lifted in playful disapproval. "Oh, honey," she said, lips curling into a smirk. "Why don't you just throw on a turtleneck while you're at it?"
I smiled faintly. "I'm here for a job interview, not to get picked up."
Honestly, I thought I lo
