Skyler wasn't surprised that Zavier had a thing for girls bursting with energy.
The girl sent tennis ball after tennis ball flying across the court, rapidly emptying a small cart. Wiping sweat from her brow with a towel, she then turned to look at Skyler. Her gaze was part appraisal, part disdain. "Skyler? From Southern Port?"
"Yeah," Skyler replied.
"Play tennis much?" The girl, Desiree, questioned with a hint of challenge.
Back home, the Blues had always emphasized the arts over athletics. Skyler could paint, play piano, and recite poetry like a pro, but sports? Not so much. "Nope," she admitted.
Desiree swung her racket and smacked another ball served up by the machine. "Tennis isn't exactly a high-roller's game. A few private lessons outside, and you're set. What, a couple hundred bucks a pop? Your folks can't spare that?"d2
A couple hundred bucks. That was a month's living expenses for many folks.
Skyler didn't like the tone, but she didn't bite. "What do you want with me?"
Desiree twirled her racket, sauntering closer with deliberate steps. "Heard you're engaged to Zavier?"
"That's right."
That single word was like a nail hammered into Desiree's heart, making her eyes flash with hurt. "So what if you're engaged? You think that means Zavier's actually going to marry you?"
"I haven't assumed anything," Skyler said coolly.
Desiree wasn't buying it. "You don't think so? Skyler, lies will make you ugly, you know."
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