James, Connor, and Elliot stood under the shade of a large umbrella near the edge of the pavilion.
The sound of soft jazz filtered through hidden speakers, coupled with the occasional clink of glassware mixed with distant laughter as members mingled post-tournament.
"Next time, bring that same focus from the back nine to the front," Connor said, sipping from a crystal glass. "And you'll do more than just qualify."
"I will do my best. Who knows? I might actually win the next weekly tournament," James smirked, causing Connor and Elliot to laugh.
They shared a few more words before James finally checked the time. The afternoon sun had dipped just low enough to stretch long shadows across the courtyard and it was almost time for his practice session with Mr Donovan.
"I'm heading to the practice range. I'm meeting with my trainer today," James said, slinging his golf bag over his shoulder.
Before he left, Connor pulled out his phone, and said, "Let's keep in touch."
