“It was the one thing he’d learned to hate in the month he’d been in South Carolina. Ricky told himself the wicked humidity was only a few months out of the year, and he could live with it. There was no such thing as perfect weather anywhere. The pluses far outweighed the negatives; it stayed green all year, the winters were incredibly mild, and golfers could be on the links basically all twelve months. The tennis buffs and pros had no problem with the weather either. It was only June now; but i...t was already hot as hell. During July and August, he was told, you could see the fat literally melt out of your body.He was waiting for his two sons, who were due to arrive at any minute on a small private jet. He saw the plane in the distance and waited patiently, in a cotton shirt sticking to his sweaty torso.Even though his gaze was on the plane, his thoughts were thousands of miles away on his more immediate problem. They were running wild. Time to take care of business, he thought bitterly.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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