Visibly relieved (and impressed) that he wasn't going to assert some sort of male dominance by insisting on paying, Gwen went gladly first and laid her debit card on the cashier's counter. They were given putters as well as their first round of golf balls. If he made jokes about balls, she might have to strangle him, although he was too handsome to strangle. "So, Jack," she said companionably, "What else do you usually do on a Tuesday night?"
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