Serving Mr. Serrano

When In Amelo...

The girls arrive just before nine, and we greet each other with tight hugs and warm kisses on each others' cheeks. I invite them in from the cold and brew a pot of coffee for us to drink while we wait.

"I still can't believe you bought this place, E. It looks gorgeous. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to help you move in."

Yeah, so, the girls had absolutely no idea that my new apartment was a gift from Dominic. They thought I'd saved up for this place, and bought it to be closer to all my new software clients. I didn't correct their assumptions, because I had no idea how to explain my arrangement with the most eligible bachelor in the country.

Also, Dominic's staff had packed and moved everything I owned while I was over at his place. Of course, he did offer to have them unpack everything for me but I insisted on doing that bit myself, so I knew where my s**t was.

I waved a dismissive hand at Taylor's apology and handed her a steaming mug of coffee.

"We've all been really busy lately, Tay. Chae's building a fashion empire from scratch, Yara is busy trying to get things together for her restaurant and you're studying to become a doctor. On top of all that, y'all still have duties at LPM. We're all doing the most right now. I'm just glad we can spend this weekend together, at least."

There's a chorus of agreement from the girls and we toast with our coffee mugs just as the garage sensor goes off.

"Who's that?"

"Our ride to the airfield."

There was a collective gasp from my friends and I basked in their astonishment with a broad, knowing smirk. I had asked Dominic to reconsider sending Ferdinand with us this weekend. I needed some alone time with my friends, and I wanted to be able to talk without having to censor myself.

We make our way downstairs, where Ferdinand assists in packing the bags in the trunk of the Bentley. I take the passenger's seat, while Yara, Chae and Taylor get comfortable in the back. Ferdie waits patiently while we decide on a playlist, and raises a disapproving brow as Valerie Broussard's Trouble starts blasting through the speakers.

The drive to the airport is only fifteen minutes long, and we get there with just enough time to load the bags and file into the chopper. It's a gigantic, black thing - bigger than the one I've seen Dominic use - with creamy leather seats and granite flooring. The layout allows enough space for maybe seven people, including the pilot, to stretch out comfortably. And of course, in true Dominic fashion, there's a bar with a variety of top-shelf liquor. I'm pleasantly surprised that we don't have to wear headsets to hear each other, since the cabin is relatively soundproof.

Yara sits by the door, unbuttoning her jacket. Chae helps herself to some champagne after take-off and we sit sipping the bubbly while looking out at the magnificent aerial view of the city. We all "ooh" and "aah" appropriately as we fly over the mountains and towns between Nito and Amelo, taking pictures and videos of each other and the view, posting on our social media.

We landed on an airfield in Amelo, where two SUVs were waiting to pick us up, one of them full of heavily-armed BLACK guards. Despite the cool autumn breeze, the weather in Amelo was decidedly warm that Friday morning, and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky.

While there's a shitload of traffic around the CBD and the stadium, we don't really have to wait around like everyone else. We're escorted by traffic officers, and come out on the other side of the cluster in twenty short minutes. Another Serrano advantage, I guess.

Amelo's larger than Nito, its skyscrapers are higher and almost polished to a shine, but it lacks the character of the city I've come to know so well. The streets have been swept to perfection with no homeless people sleeping in the doorways of local businesses. I assumed that the local municipality went to great lengths to clean up the city for the game tomorrow.

We arrive at the beach house before eleven after driving up a long, winding road. We stop just outside the gate and one of the guards in the other car gets out to speak to the armed guard in the yard.

We all wait quietly while they talk, then glance at each other when he points back at the car.

"Okay, while all this VIP treatment is pretty f*****g great, I have to ask… Who the f**k is paying for all this?"

My door opens and another guard holds out a hand to help me out of the driver's seat. He leads me to the gate, and I pull out my phone to get the verification code Dominic sent me that morning.

"Ms. Eden Conteh," the guard confirms, and then makes a gesture to whoever is watching through the security cameras to open the aluminium gates.

We get back in the cars and cruise up a circular concrete driveway with a neatly trimmed landscape. We pulled up in front of what Dominic had called "a modest beachfront house". A great understatement because in actuality, this was a sizable mansion.

Four-storeys tall with high double-doors. It could be described as modern, with sleek marble walls and large floor-to-ceiling windows. A man in a suit greets us on the marble steps leading to the door, bowing his head politely in welcome.

"Good morning, ma'am. My name is Dumisani and I will be your butler during your stay."

.We're ushered inside while the staff unload our bags from the cars and carry them inside. He gave us a tour of the house, which is somehow larger than it looks from the outside. Dumisani shows everyone to their bedrooms, all of which are on the third floor, and then leads me to the master suite. Dumisani disappears out the door as quietly as a ghost and I'm left alone to freshen up and get dressed for lunch.

I looked around, smiling softly to myself. The bed was huge, larger than the one Dominic had at his penthouse. It was likely a double king-size canopy bed, with soft, sheer curtains to keep out the mosquitoes and exquisite pink and light grey bedding.

There's a small note on the bed, written on Dominic's stationery and in his handwriting. I take a seat on the bouncy mattress and open the envelope. The card reads:

"Please try not to burn down the house.

Have a great weekend with your friends and I'll see you when you get home.

Sincerely, D.S.

P.S: There's a treat waiting for you in the garage. Enjoy."

I was the last to make it downstairs to the dining room. Like the others, I'm wearing a comfortable summer dress and flat sandals, but I've left my curls loose around my shoulders. I smiled at my girls and pulled up a seat beside Yara.

"This place is f*****g gorgeous," Taylor said, smiling broadly as she looked around.

"Seriously, E. I cannot thank you enough for this," Yara said, pulling me into a side hug.

"It's my pleasure, birthday girl. Now, how about some lunch before we get down to business?"

***

We spend the rest of the day at West Rock Gorge, doing a bunch of exciting - or terrifying, according to Taylor - activities. Rock climbing, bungee jumping, zip-lining, quad-biking and taking a horse ride across the park to get to the nature reserve, where a guide is waiting to give us a tour.

By the time we get home, we're decidedly exhausted. After a delicious dinner prepared by Dominic's chef, we all retire to our bedrooms to rest up for the next day.

I woke up pretty early and headed out to the deck for breakfast. I find Chae sitting on one of the wicker chairs, a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose.

She looks up with a broad smile, then turns her attention back to the priceless view of the ocean. A cool breeze blows over us, undoing the loose top knot. I cursed and flipped the curls over my shoulder so I could light the joint without setting my hair on fire.

After a couple pulls, I passed the blunt over to Chae, who took it between long, manicured nails. I pull up my phone and take several pictures of the view, then toss it onto the table.

"So, when were you going to tell us that you're f*****g Dominic Serrano?"

Despite the sudden shock, I feigned ignorance, glancing over at Chae with raised brows. I can tell, even with the shades on her face, that she's not buying my whole act whatsoever.

"What do you mean?"

"First, the apartment, then the crazy expensive Bentley and now all of this? We're in the gated community of San Moyes, after being escorted by traffic officers and being transported here by chopper. I know your new driver is one of Serrano's BLACK guards, and I know that chopper is his too."

There's an awkward silence. One which I'm in absolutely no hurry to fill. Perhaps realising this, Chae sighed, passed the joint back to me and finally looked away.

"I signed an ironclad NDA that specifically states that I'm not to share any of the details of my arrangement. I'm not allowed to tell anyone, anything at all."

Chae nodded, understanding. She peered at me over the frame of her glasses and said, very softly, "Please take care of yourself, Eden. We both know how this situation is going to end."

Having said her piece, she reached over and squeezed my hand warmly before rising from her seat. Her footsteps are quiet as she walks back into the house, leaving me alone.

After taking the last pull of the blunt, I placed it carefully into the ashtray and leaned back into my seat with a weary sigh.

I knew that Dominic was attracted to me. He didn't hide it, because there was no point. We were already f*****g, so why bother?

I also knew that Dominic was incredibly controlling. I had a feeling the tail he'd placed on me and the cameras in my new apartment weren't the only measures he put in place to keep an eye on me. And honestly, I didn't really care about any of that because I had - sort of - nothing to hide.

But still, Chae was right.

This wasn't going to end well at all. I had already broken my own rules several times over the past month by letting him dictate my life. Yes, the gifts were all pretty great and I wasn't going to pretend I didn't appreciate them, but I was worried what would happen should he decide to terminate our contract.

I wasn't going to fool myself into thinking this would be anything but a temporary fling. Neither of us were suited for much else.

He was emotionally unavailable and I was too f****d up to ever have a healthy, rewarding relationship with anyone but my friends.

With a sigh, I rose from my seat and hurried back inside to shower and get ready for the day ahead.

After a very long breakfast spent arguing about which team would advance to the finals, the girls and I finally headed upstairs to get dressed. Chae and I are hardcore Gladiators fans, so we don our maroon, white and black with pride. Our cheeks are marked in our team's colours, and we wear the cartoonish helmets associated with our team.

Yara and Taylor are dressed in their mediocre teams' blue and black. They, too, have their faces painted, and occasionally wave their pom-poms in our faces on the way to the car.

We're all wearing jeans and signed jackets from our respective teams to keep off the chill in the air.

We filed into one car, with Taylor taking the front seat beside me. I drove us out of San Moyes, and into Amelo, where the streets are bright with blue and maroon. Vendors sell knock-off football jerseys and spectator paraphernalia on the pavements, waving the items near our windows as we drive by. We stop to buy two huge flags - much to the traffic officers' and the guards' dismay. Yara and Chae stick their top halves out the windows and wave their flags, screaming and cheering as we made our way to the stadium.

We made it there unscathed, singing, dancing and whistling our way to the private box that Dominic had secured for us. We find a few guards waiting, their expressions neutral, somehow far removed from our noise and excitement.

There's liquor and food up here, the good kind. And servers too. Everyone insists on sticking around, even though we don't really need them, so we let them stay. They hand us our beer and plates full of expensive meals until the teams take to the field.

At that point, we finally quiet down and take our seats in front of the windows.

The coin is tossed and sides are chosen. The ball is placed at the centre of the field. Ekon takes his place beside the ball.

A hush fell over the stadium as we all waited to hear the whistle from the referee. His expression is neutral as he counts down the seconds, his gaze locked on the watch on his wrist. He looks up, and a second later, blows the whistle.

From the start of the game, we're all on the edge of our seats. It's intense and riveting, and we barely talk during the first twenty minutes. The crowds around and below us are singing and stomping, waving their flags in support. The players on the field are playing their best, the ball bouncing between the two evenly matched teams.

When the whistle blows for a free kick during the thirtieth minute, Chae and I groan with frustration. Yara and Tay are practically giddy with anticipation, and practically fall out of their chairs when the ball hits the back of the net.

There's a loud, collective roar from the crowd and I swear my beer glass trembles against the surface of the table. The goal scorer does his lap, cheering and pumping his fist in the air in celebration, which only pisses us off.

Yara and Tay gloat, rubbing the goal in our faces well into half-time. By the time the ref blows the whistle for the second half, Chae and I are waiting eagerly for a goal.

There are a couple of missed opportunities, some shots at goal, but none of them make the net.

By now, we're anxious, praying for some kind of chance that the Gladiators can use to their advantage. It's scary and exhilarating, nerve-wracking and thrilling; it's football at its very best. And while I hate that my team is behind, my heart is pounding with adrenaline and anticipation. Our fans are still cheering their hearts out, and perhaps that gives Ekon the push he needs to finally break through the defence.

I rose from my seat, barely breathing. He lines up the shot and kicks. There was a split second of absolute silence once again as we all watched the ball sail through the air.

It's shattered almost instantly by an ear-splitting scream - it may have been from me - a second later.

The. Crowd. Goes. Mental.

I mean, we lose our f*****g minds.

Chae pounds against the windows with her hands and I jump all over the place like an intoxicated kangaroo. The guards and the servers are watching us with genuine amusement, more entertained by our exploits than the actual game.

We calm when the whistle blows for full-time, the tension dissipating for a few minutes. The teams gather at their benches and we grab another round of beer to quench our thirst. Extra-time passes without a single goal, not that the players don't try. Things are tense on that field, and there are more fouls during those thirty minutes than there were in the whole ninety minutes. But the tension intensifies, becoming somewhat suffocating.

The penalty shootout is probably the most frustrating part of the match, because literally anything could happen. You could be the best f*****g striker in the world and miss the net. You could have the most skill out of everyone in this stadium, and it might not even matter.

Chae and I hold hands, watching with bated breath as Ekon approaches the goalpost. The crowd cheers him on, and he quickly crosses himself before placing the ball on the large white dot on the grass.

He sends the ball crashing into the back of the net and there's a loud sigh of relief from Chae. The next player to take the field is Jonathan Steele, a team favourite and the best upcoming striker in the country. He scores, effortlessly so, and waves to the Amelo fans while jogging back to his teammates.

Both teams score their next two penalties, but one of ours misses on his turn. F.C. Amelo wastes no time capitalising on the opportunity. Orlando is next to take the field, and despite getting his ball in the net, Amelo's next player scores his penalty, winning his team the match. There's another mad chorus of cheers and I slump in my chair while Taylor and Yara cheer their asses off.

"Next time, sweets," Chae says, wrapping her arms around me.

"In your dreams!" Yara screams, cackling like a witch. There's a loud pop, and we squeal in protest as she sprays us with champagne, grinning like a lunatic.

"My hair!"

"Yara, I swear-"

But she ignores our screams, and continues to douse us with bubbly. Chae reaches out for the closed bottle and opens it with a twist of her wrist… The next few minutes are a blur of champagne and shrieks. We're so soaked in liquor that we have to lay several towels on the seats to keep them dry.

The drive back to the house takes longer than usual with everyone running in the streets, either celebrating or protesting.

We make it home with just two hours to spare before the afterparty. We all disappear into our respective bedrooms to shower and wash our hair for the next event.

My phone vibrates frantically while I'm applying my make-up, and Dominic's assigned ringtone blasts through the speakers.

"Hello, sunshine."

"Have a good day?"

I could tell by the calm in his voice that he'd just retired to his suite. He was either about to shower or pour himself a generous measure of bourbon.

"I guess. Except for my team losing."

"I'm… sorry?"

There's the sound of glass clinking, liquid being swirled around. I almost chuckle when I hear him swallow quietly.

"It's fine. We'll just have to try again next season," I said, putting my phone on speaker. I place it on the counter so I can apply my make-up and listen as Dominic speaks.

"My men told me you and your friends made quite the mess. They said that you 'basically left the place in shambles'."

"Your people are such narcs," I replied, laughing. "I'm assuming they also told you about the flag incident?"

A brief pause while he sits, and then exhales slowly before responding with a nonchalant, "You were caught on camera, believe it or not."

"Of course you have more babysitters assigned to me."

"Well, I didn't want you getting hurt. People tend to do crazy things when they're hyped up about a sports celebration."

I don't know what it is about his tone that rings false, but I don't believe what he says. I've been attending football games since I was a kid, and nothing has ever happened to me. No matter how crazy things get.

I decided not to entertain that line of thought. I was with my friends, having one of the best weekends of my life and the last thing I wanted was to ruin the mood by arguing with him.

That could wait until I got home.

"Fair enough," I said, and filled him in on what we'd be doing the rest of the weekend. In my excitement, I let it slip that our plans for this evening include attending an afterparty hosted by F.C. Amelo.

"Who all will be attending?" he asked, his voice betraying his suspicion.

"The… A lot of people. Most of whom are football players."

There's a moment of silence. I can almost see his usual frown turn into a deep, disapproving scowl as his eyes narrowed into small slits.

"A fact you neglected to mention when you were sharing the details of your trip."

"Yeah, I'm telling you now. Besides, I didn't want you getting jealous and ruining-"

"Jealous?"

The word is spat out with mild disgust, as if he couldn't even say it without a touch of disdain. I fought off a smile, and applied the first layer of lipstick.

"Yes. Knowing that I will be around scores of young, athletic men must be a touch upsetting."

"Interesting. It's almost as if you want me to bend you over my knee."

Unable to resist provoking him a little further, I added, "I think Ekon will be there too."

There's a low growl shortly before glass shatters on the other line. I'm just fighting off a laugh when Chae knocks on my door and calls out my name.

"If any of them so much as touches you-"

"Gotta go, sexy. Talk to you later, bye!"

I hung up with a muffled giggle before joining Chae in the bedroom. She's already dressed in a gorgeous yellow, one-shoulder blazer dress. It's cinched in at the waist, the buttons sewn on the side. Her outfit is paired with strappy high heels, her hair falling over her back in thick, dark waves. I can't help but grin at her, and she strikes a pose for me before handing over the garment bag in her arms.

"I know it's a little revealing, but I wanted to put you in something that shows off your curves."

And boy, does it.

Once dressed, I stand in front of the mirror and admire the sleek design. It's decidedly modest, except it's wonderfully figure-hugging, with long sleeves and an open back. The high neckline keeps the girls safely hidden from any prying eyes, but the knee-length hem shows off my long legs. The dusty pink material is comfortable and shimmers with tiny gemstones, which I know she stitched on by hand.

Honestly, I f*****g love it.

"This is officially my new favourite dress. My god, my ass in this thing," I remarked, turning to get a better look at my behind.

Chae beams at the praise, and we spend the next few minutes getting ready to leave. Yara and Tay walk in just as I'm sliding into a pair of pale pink platform heels.

Chae opted for a sleeveless, blue jumpsuit for Taylor. There's minimal detailing on the hems and neckline, just enough to draw attention without taking away from her luscious curves. Yara is wearing a black and white two-piece dress, sleeveless and decorated in a complex pattern. The cut shows off a sliver of skin between the waistline of the skirt and the hem of the shirt. The bottom-half is also decorated in the same pattern as the shirt, flaring out at the waist.

We're taking pictures in the closet when Dumisani comes up to let us know that the chopper is on its way. We try to take one last silly photo, pulling exaggerated goofy expressions before we leave. We can't even hold them long enough, and dissolve in a fit of giggles. The picture we actually take is somewhat more endearing to me, especially since everyone in it looks so f*****g happy. I save it as my wallpaper and hurry after the girls, turning the light off in the bedroom.