I tried to keep my composure as I followed Ian. I can't miss the look of Mrs. Benson that she gave me when she saw me dressed in an elegant dress. If I thought we was heading to the front door, I was mistaken. Instead, Ian moves forward and exits to the backyard where the pool dominates the area, and beyond, I can see part of the garden. I can barely keep up with him, and I huff, earning a glance from him over his shoulder.
"Are you okay?"
"Perfect," I replied through gritted teeth as we descended the stairs and skirted the pool.
"May I ask where we're going?"
"To my parents' house, you know that," he answered.
"Yes, but why through here?"
He nods. He stops at some smaller steps leading to a tennis court. Why am I not surprised that posh Ian Wolf plays such a pretentious sport?
He
