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If some of the plants were a bit overgrown, maybe I’d feel more at ease. However, the precision with which these gardens have been kept makes me wonder what the penalty is for fucking them up.
I continue to follow him, watching him glance back at me every so often to try to gauge my reaction to his incredible estate. It’s amusing, in a way, seeing how curious he is about my reactions. Perhaps I’m not responding the way he prefers, because halfway to the tennis court, he stops in the middle of the walkway.
“You know how long it took me to build all of this? I spent like three years with my house under constant construction. It was a hard fucking few years, looking out at my backyard full of mud constantly, but now it’s one of the most beautiful gardens in the state,” he brags.
I’m tempted to just nod and play along with him, just to see if it’ll make him angry, but I choose to reply to keep the peace.
“Oh, it’s beautiful. I just don’t really know what to say. It’s breathtaking though, for sure,” I say. “What inspired all of this? I feel like some men would opt for a golf course in their backyard if they had that kind of money.”
He chuckles a little. “Yeah, I’ve met those guys. Great financial advisors, absolutely abysmal personalities. Whenever I meet one, I always wonder how he manages to get through life with such an empty head.”
I can’t help but laugh with him, and I’m starting to feel a true rapport being built between us. At this point, it’s starting to feel like we could be forming a sort of friendship, even if it’s mostly being founded on our mutual attraction.
“One of my coworkers is married to one of those. He shows up to every company event and all he ever wants to talk about is stocks. I admire people who can focus that long on such a boring subject, but damn it, I hate getting caught up in his vortex of unsolicited advice,” I say, bringing the visual of Roger’s face to mind and rolling my eyes automatically.
We begin to walk again, and by now, I can see the vast expanse of Matteo’s property where the tennis court begins.
“I encounter them all the time. I need them around to make sure I don’t end up the way that lottery winners do, but goddamn they’re such a pain to talk to outside of business. All they want to do is rail lines of coke and talk about investment funds. The coke is always great, which makes it survivable, but it’s not good enough to make it fun.”
I’m starting to get a better feel for Matteo’s true personality, which still features the same bravado and intensity that he usually has with just a little more playfulness. I wasn’t expecting to get to see this side of him, but I’m enjoying it quite a lot.
10
Iris
When we reach the tennis court, I’m blown away by how well-maintained it is. It’s the size of an Olympic court, and there are even bleachers on either side for anyone who wishes to watch.
“Do you rent this place out? I mean to high schools or colleges? Who uses the bleachers?” I ask, feeling the sun on my face as we exit the denser portion of the garden and enter the court.
“Sort of, but more often, I just play with my friends during parties and people come out to watch if they want. It felt kind of weird having a tennis court with nothing on the sides. It was really an afterthought.”
This isn’t the first time that this thought is occurring to me, but how the hell can some people be so goddamn rich while people like my best friend’s grandmother can hardly scrape by month to month? It’s a stupid issue to muse about when the rich man in question happened to get rich by committing crimes, but seeing the evidence of his wealth is staggering. The idea of adding bleachers to a home tennis court because you don’t know what else to do with it feels insane to me.
“Alright, you stay here and I’ll go grab the rackets and everything,” he says, motioning for me to stay in place like a dog as he begins to walk away.
The sun of high noon rests directly above me as the heat pours out over the greenery of the surrounding garden. I’m pretty sure my parents went somewhere that looked like this for their honeymoon and didn’t go on vacation for another five years after the fact. I’d give anything to know what it would cost to stay in a place like this for a few nights as a bed-and-breakfast. And I get to be here for free? Playing tennis with a sexy, mysterious mafia boss? It feels like an absurd fantasy that I would have had as a teenager.
“Alright, you can take whichever side you want. The sun is pretty much directly ahead, so don’t worry about the sun getting in my eyes or anything,” Matteo says as he comes back up from a storage shed.
He’s startled me, so I jump slightly before I calm myself to take my place on the other side.
As soon as he throws the first ball, I notice his cock pushing up against the fabric of his shorts again. I’m thrown off from the distraction, and I miss with my first swing.
“Damn, I thought you would have been able to at least hit it. Maybe not well, but a hit nonetheless,” he teases.
“I haven’t played since high school. Cut me some slack,” I whine, forcing myself to laugh to avoid looking like a sore loser.
“Come on, that wasn’t that long ago, was it?” he continues, relentlessly trying to rile me up and distract me even worse.
It’s working, however, and I miss the next ball that he serves to me as well. He’s enjoying this game quite a bit, even though the rules were never established and I’m struggling to make sense of it all. He wants to corner me with flirtations and teasing, but at what point do I decide to draw the line?
Will I ever find the strength to do that after what happened last night?
On the third serve, I’m finally able to hit the ball over the net. He’s shocked that I’m bouncing back from my mistakes before, but his expression shows me that he might be somewhat impressed with me.
“Okay, let’s see more of that from now on,” he says, serving the ball back to me.
“You sound like you’re trying to be my coach,” I reply, glowering at him with a devious smile of my own now.
