Aimee, a few guys and the party at the tennis compound.

Aimee started whistling as she checked her phone. She had to make sure she was heading in the right direction. She'd never seen a rich person's garden area before. She made a quick pit stop in a room with an open bar and grabbed a cocktail before heading down the hall to the back garden entrance. She imagined hunting would be good tonight. When you mix boys with booze things tend to get fun, she thought as she stepped onto the back patio.

The landing was packed. All Aimee could see were people in ball gowns and tuxedos mingling on the gray cut stone patio. She felt a bit underdressed and out of place in her white cocktail dress. She was showing a lot more leg and cleavage than anyone else there and was getting looks. She was never a girl to ignore attention though, so Aimee returned the men's admiring stares with smiles of her own.

It did not take long for her to notice a few women talking among themselves, probably jealous they didn't have the legs to pull a dress like this off. She saw two of the women watching her corner a distinguished-looking older black gentleman in tails and point at her. Aimee had a bad feeling about all this when she saw the man walk in her direction.

"Ma'am, could you please step into the hall with me for a moment? I have a message for you."

He took her hand and led her back to the hallway she'd entered from, then looked her in the eye.

"You aren't supposed to be at the ball, it is invitation only."

Aimee fished her phone out of her bag and offered the email she'd gotten earlier to the man. She flashed a friendly smile as he looked it over.

"The map the greeters gave me marks this room as green."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. When Mrs. Vandergraft says someone is not invited, they are not welcome. She hires good help, but even they make mistakes on occasion."

The man took a moment to tap out a quick message on his phone as the blonde glowered at him.

"You'll receive a new email with an updated map in a moment. Mrs. Vandergraft was very specific about where she wants you girls. Please don't try to reenter the garden ball or I'll have security escort you out."

The man didn't even wait for Aimee's response. He just turned and walked back out to the garden. Aimee stuck her tongue out in his general direction, walked down the hall and around the corner. She saw no reason to let the harpies point at her through the door and brag. Once out of sight, she leaned against the wall and stared at her phone waiting for the message to arrive.

A moment later, it vibrated and she checked it. The new map was in and only three rooms were lit. She frowned as she saw the names: Bar Games, Servant's Quarters, and the Gym. She was still making up her mind when a fellow rounded the corner and smiled at her. He was a tall white guy with a buzzed blonde head and green eyes. His blue slacks and white button-up polo reminded her of the uniform salesmen wore at her favorite clothing shop in the district. He appeared to be maybe in his early '20s but she liked the chiseled look of his face. His smile was warmly animated as he addressed her.

"There you are! I saw the muscle rush you out of the garden before I could say hi. My name is Derek."

Aimee offered her hand. He took it and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Elenor Vandergraft is getting old and sadly doesn't understand how to be a good hostess at times."

"Yeah. Not only did she kick me out but set most of the house off-limits. I'm Aimee."

She offered him a practiced frown that tended to only be used when she wanted a person to do something for her. Aimee was confident it was working mostly because Derek's eyes kept drifting to her cleavage.

"Who needs the house? Me and a couple of buddies are planning to meet at the tennis building for some cards. You're welcome to join us. Let the stuck-up fools waste their time here."

"Cards?"

"Yeah. We can't dodge these things. . . family duty and all. So we show for an hour or so, then go out back and have fun. You look like a fun person to me and we'd love the company. Let the old farts have this place!"

The idea of hanging out with a few rebellious rich guys felt fitting the more Aimee thought about it. Besides, what could go wrong?

"Count me in. Let's blow this stuffy place, the fresh air will do me good."

With that, he took her hand and led her out a different back door. It opened onto a blacktopped driveway leading away from the house. There was a row of high hedges planted on each side that kept her from seeing much to the left or right. Derek climbed into a golf cart parked off to the side and started driving as soon as she boarded. The ride was only a couple of minutes long as they pulled into a lit tennis court.

She couldn't see anyone there. The court itself was surrounded on three sides by the same variety of bushes but off to the side was a small set of bleachers for spectators and a long one-story building with brown siding and a black roof. Behind the two of those was another hedge wall. It definitely wasn't in the same style as the main house so Aimee assumed it was added later. The hedges were likely there to keep people from seeing it from the manor. Derek climbed out, took her hand, and led her inside.

The interior looked like a changing room. Aimee could see 6 lockers in two rows on each side of the space. On the right side, she could see a closed, dark wooden door and on the left, an open archway that led to a few showers. The floor was yellow ceramic tile and the ceiling was made of rectangles of white vinyl interrupted at points by fluorescent lights.

Derek quickly led her through the door into what looked like an office of sorts. It had the same ceiling tile/fluorescent light combination but the floor was covered in deep, soft black carpet. There was a large oak desk in one corner with a dark leather couch on the other. Against the far wall, there was a large TV screen currently turned to an audio-only music channel. Next to the TV was a metal door that she assumed led to the area behind the bleachers.

There were two other men in the room. One was a lanky guy with deep brown skin and bright brown eyes. He was wearing navy slacks and a light blue polo shirt. He was standing next to the desk stirring some sort of green juice mixture in a large bowl. She'd place him in the early 20s like Derek. He offered the man a high five.

"Achmed, this is Aimee. Elenor's being a bitch again so I helped her escape the house."

She giggled into her hand as Achmed looked at pretty blonde.

"Hi, Aimee. Welcome to the funhouse! It beats hanging with the boomers over there anyway. I'd offer a hand but I'm busy mixing."

Derek led her over to the sofa where the other man was sitting. He was a white man who had a bit of a tummy. She'd guess he looked to be in his late 20s and was wearing a pair of tan cargo pants and what looked like a light blue football jersey which seemed odd since she didn't see any recognizable club branding. Derek looked in his direction.

"This is Chad. It's kinda his thing to wear almost the exact opposite of what he's told to. Elenor hates him more than any of us. He's a fun guy, Aimee."

She giggled as Chad looked up at her from the sofa.

"Looks like Derek hit a hole in one this time. Welcome girl. We need a fourth for poker and you seem perfect."

He got up and opened the metal door.

"The night's too nice to sit in here. I'll leave the door propped open so we can hear the music."

Chad stepped outside. He kicked a rubber wedge under the bottom of the door to hold it open. Aimee and Derek followed. Once through the door, she could see a small wooden table with all-weather plastic cushions on the seats and a plastic top covering the wood. The area was bordered by the bleachers on one side, a hedge wall on the other, and a tall wooden slat fence on the far side. Derek sat, put a couple of decks of cards and a bag on the tabletop. Chad sat on the opposite side. Aimee walked a few circuits around the gravel area as the guys watched her.

Soon Achmed came out and passed around large red plastic cups to everyone. Aimee took hers with a smile and sniffed it. The light aroma suddenly made her thirsty and she tried a sip. It tasted like a mixed tropical fruit juice with a hint of liquor in the background. When she turned toward the table, Derek and Achmed were on one side so she took a seat next to Chad.

Derek pulled a bunch of orange chips out of the bag and split them evenly between the four people at the table. Then he began shuffling one of the decks.

"Since no one likes dealing, I get to call the game. It'll just be a regular five-card. We'll start to my right to begin and continue the order from there."

He starts passing the cards. Aimee gathered hers up and examined them.

"I assume the person with all the chips at the end wins?"

Derek nods, "That's the idea."

Once the cards are passed out, Achmed asks everyone to put them face down on the table, gathers up folks' glasses, and tosses them. Then he ducks into the office and brings out new ones. Aimee happily accepted her cup.

"Why not just refill the old ones? Besides, I was only half done with the last glass."

Achmed laughs, "They're all the same color, unfortunately, so this seems easier than carrying the big mix bowl out. You could have kept yours if you wanted to. It's just easier to do them all at the same time than making multiple trips. Let's get to the game!"

She nods and takes a big sip of hers. It still tastes fruity and delicious. It isn't like she paid for the booze anyway. Let them waste money if they like. At least they seem friendly unlike the stiffs in the mansion. She picks up her cards and joins the fun. Poker was never Aimee's game but she didn't have to pay for the chips so it's all just good fun at this point.

The next hour goes about how Aimee expected. The guys took turns winning her chips and she was wiped out. She was on her third cup of juice though and was feeling pretty good. Chad was the table hustler it seems, he'd won about half of all the games and was holding most of her losses and about half the wagers the other guys had made too. Seems it was either a good night for him or he was just better than the rest.

Chad pulls out a joint and lights it. He inhaled deep and offered it to Aimee.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. We get pop up **** tests where I work."

"And where do you work?"

"I'm an HR manager at the hospital."

"That's a surprise I figured. . ."

He stops himself for a moment before continuing. He felt it was poor form to say they thought she was a prostitute.

"I always thought of HR types as stuck up assholes. You've single-handedly improved my opinion of the entire field."

He smiled proud of his quick thinking and could tell by the look on Aimee's face that she loved the compliment. He reached into his wallet and handed her a business card along with his ID. She read the name on both as Chadwick Sadler.

"My father owns Sadlersoft downtown. As you can see from the card, I'm in charge of personnel there. I don't do much, I'm smart enough to mostly let the professionals handle that stuff. I do however get to hand out plum jobs. Enjoy the weed, have some fun, and screw the test. Call me Monday or 6 months from now and I guarantee we at least match what they're paying."

Aimee's eyes go wide.

"Really?"

"Yep. Now have fun HR princess. Life is too short for boring shit like **** tests."

Aimee took a big drag off the joint and passed it to Achmed. She coughed a bit considering it's been years since she last tried it in university.