Chapter 18: You Were a Poor Guy

Along the way, Grant was enthusiastic toward Bessie, obviously trying to impress her. Bernard introduced him to Trevor, saying, "This is Grant, son of the Ensfield Hotel owner. If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here." Grant looked Trevor up and down and asked, "Who's this?"

"Trevor Sanderson," Bernard replied, "the poor guy whose girlfriend was making out with Dennis."

Grant sneered and laughed. "Oh, that's you? I've heard a lot about you."

Trevor clenched his fists. "What's that supposed to mean?" He was tired of their implied insults.

Grant was about to retort, but Bessie intervened. "That's enough. Are you really going to snipe at each other on my birthday?"

"You're right, Miss Taylor. My apologies. Let's go inside and play tennis," Grant said. He gave Trevor one last condescending look before ushering them into the exclusive tennis club. Trevor suppressed his anger; he didn't want to embarrass Bessie, but he wouldn't forget Grant's treatment.

The tennis club was luxuriously decorated, filled with well-dressed people. It was clearly a haven for the wealthy.

Corrie, deeply impressed, commented, "I heard the Ki sas Tennis Club is for the super wealthy. Everything is expensive; only members are allowed in."

Grant, making twenty thousand dollars sound insignificant, said, "It's not that expensive. I rented two top-grade courts for twenty thousand dollars."

One of Bernard's friends exclaimed, "Wow, Grant! You're generous!"

Corrie, awestruck, liked Grant even more. He was rich, generous, and handsome. Who wouldn't?

Trevor remained silent, thinking, The industries around the manor are owned by my family. I could easily get in if I told my sister. He decided against it, however, and simply followed the group.

Bernard asked the attendant, "Five top-of-the-line Wilson tennis rackets, the latest model, and one cheap racket, please." Wilson was a world-renowned brand favored by Olympic champions, known for its high-end, expensive rackets. The cheap racket, in contrast, was a basic, inexpensive model.

"Yes, sir. One moment, please," the attendant replied. She glanced at Trevor with contempt before returning with the rackets, handing the cheap one to him.

"You don't mind a cheap racket, do you, Trevor? We're only doing this out of the goodness of our hearts," she said sarcastically.

Bernard smirked, paying ten thousand dollars for the branded rackets (two thousand each) and two hundred for the cheap one.

Trevor gripped the cheap racket, his temper rising, but he controlled himself for Bessie's sake. Bernard winked at Grant, who turned to Trevor and said, "Trevor, Bernard and I paid for the rackets and entrance. Be a man and treat us to some water."

"Six bottles of water, please," Trevor replied. He knew their intention was to make him spend beyond his means, but six bottles of water seemed manageable.

The attendant returned, stating, "That will be one thousand two hundred dollars. Card or cash?" Each bottle cost two hundred dollars.

Trevor was stunned. The price was exorbitant. He realized Grant's true motive. Seeing Trevor's humiliation, Bessie stepped forward. "Don't worry, Trevor. I'll pay."