Chapter 300. Tennis Lessons.
SEDONA
I started them on a Saturday morning in early spring, the three of them lined up on the court at Dante's facility with varying degrees of readiness.
Nick stood straight, racket in hand, expression serious.
He had asked me the week before to teach him properly. Not just for fun. Actually properly. The way I'd been taught, real technique, real expectations. I said yes. He nodded like we'd signed a contract.
Drew stood beside him with his notebook already open, which I'd told him he could bring as long as it didn't become a reason to stop hitting balls and start writing instead. He'd agreed to this condition with the careful precision of someone who intended to honour it exactly as stated and no further.
Lake stood at the end with his racket over his
