Chapter 6: Unexpected Question
<IVAN'S POV>
After dropping Sasha off at her house, I headed straight for my best friend Brad's place. The drive, which took roughly thirty minutes, offered a chance to reflect on our friendship, which had been a constant in my life since childhood.
Brad's family lived in a palatial mansion that was nothing short of awe-inspiring. As I approached the entrance, the imposing iron gates, towering high and intricately designed, stood as a testament to their wealth. James, the ever-familiar gatekeeper, recognized my car, and with a friendly wave, he efficiently swung open the gates, granting me entry.
The sight that greeted me as I drove in was nothing short of breathtaking. The sprawling compound, meticulously landscaped and adorned with lush gardens, seemed like it belonged to a different world. I parked my car with care, mindful not to intrude on the pristine order of the place, and slipped my keys into my pocket.
Brad's family, in all their wealth and influence, had carved out a niche in the upper echelons of society. His father, a seasoned politician, wielded power and charisma in equal measure. Meanwhile, Brad's mother, Mrs. Meyer, held her own mantle of success as the driving force behind one of the world's most renowned clothing brands.
The bond between our mothers, formed during their high school days, had weathered the years, evolving into a deep-rooted friendship. This connection had, in turn, solidified the friendship between Brad and me. It was almost as if our destinies were intertwined by the enduring friendship of our mothers.
As I strolled towards the main entrance, a voice from behind greeted me. It was James, the ever-loyal gatekeeper.
"Good morning, Mr. Ivan," he said, his warm smile welcoming me back to the grandeur of Brad's home.
"Morning, Mr. James," I replied with a nod. "Is Brad at home?"
Before James could respond, the shrill sound of a car horn cut through the air, diverting our attention. James acted promptly, hurrying to the gate, and with a flick of his hand, he released the latch, allowing a pristine white Porsche to glide effortlessly into the compound.
A chauffeur, impeccably dressed in a black tailored suit, emerged gracefully from the driver's seat. He circled the car with a sense of reverence before opening the rear door, revealing a vision of elegance.
Out stepped Mrs. Meyer, the epitome of timeless beauty. Her attire, a sleek and form-fitting black gown, seemed custom-made to accentuate her curves and poise. Despite her true age, which was somewhere between her late thirties and early forties, she appeared as if untouched by the passage of time.
Her face bore the graceful lines of maturity, featuring an oval shape and a set of lips that seemed to beckon with an unspoken promise. Her eyes, a striking shade of blue, held depths of experience that hinted at a life well-lived. Her nose, elegantly pointed, completed her facial symmetry.
It was, however, her physical allure that demanded attention. Her figure, gracefully defined, was enough to turn the heads of both young and old. She radiated an inexplicable magnetism, which undoubtedly drew the admiration of many, unaware of her real age.
"Hey Ivan!" she greeted with a radiant smile as she made her way towards me.
"Good morning, Mrs. Meyer," I replied, my own smile mirroring hers as she continued her approach.
"Are you here to see Brad?" she asked, coming to a halt in front of me, her presence commanding attention.
"Yes," I replied with a nod. "Is he at home?"
She shook her head gently, her radiant smile still firmly in place. "No, he accompanied his dad to an important meeting in California this morning. He won't be back until tonight or tomorrow morning."
"Alright," I said, masking my disappointment. "When he returns, please let him know I stopped by."
She agreed with a nod, her eyes holding a promise of future encounters. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Mrs. Meyer," I added, subtly signaling my intention to leave. I unlocked my car, giving the impression that I had somewhere urgent to be.
But as I was about to get in, she gently held my hand, her eyes locked onto mine. "Don't leave just yet, Ivan," she implored. "You've just arrived. Let's go inside and chat over some wine."
I hesitated for a moment, torn between my fabricated excuse and the desire to stay. Ultimately, I chose to stick with my lie. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Meyer, but I've got somewhere I have to be in an hour, so I have to leave."
Her expression, once radiant with anticipation, transformed into disappointment as she let go of my hand and took a step back. The melancholy in her voice tugged at my conscience.
"I thought maybe you could keep me company, even if it's for a few minutes, but it's fine. You can leave," she said, her tone heavy with a sense of loneliness.
As I watched her walk back into the mansion, a feeling of empathy washed over me. I understood all too well the emptiness that could envelop one in a vast, luxurious home. My mother's frequent business trips had often left me in a similar solitude since I was fifteen.
She would spend months away from home, leaving me to fend for myself despite our immense wealth. So, I could empathize with the isolation that might befall a person in such a situation.
With a change of heart, I decided to spend some time with Mrs. Meyer before I left. I ventured further into the mansion, but she was nowhere to be found in the spacious living room.
"Good morning, Mr. Ivan," a familiar voice called out behind me. I turned to see Mrs. Pamela, the mansion's sole maid, dressed in her uniform.
Brad's parents had always favored a minimalist staff, and Mrs. Pamela had faithfully served them for over seventeen years.
"Morning, Mrs. Pamela," I greeted her with a warm smile. "Do you know where Mrs. Meyer is?"
"I saw her heading upstairs to her room," Mrs. Pamela replied, her eyes filled with a warmth that came from years of dedicated service.
"Alright," I said, making my way to the staircase that led to Mrs. Meyer's room.
Upon reaching her door, I noticed it was slightly ajar. I knocked twice, but there was no response. Knocking again, I received the same result. Deciding to check on her, I pushed the door open wider and entered the luxurious room.
A quick survey of the bedroom revealed Mrs. Meyer's absence. Her black gown lay neatly on the bed, and the sound of a running shower indicated that she was in the bathroom.
I opted to wait for her in the living room, taking a step back from the bedroom. But just as I was about to move, Mrs. Meyer emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a white towel that gracefully covered her to mid-thigh.
My body stiffened, and my jaw dropped as my eyes were irresistibly drawn to her flawless form.
My eyes roamed her body as if they had a mind of their own, while my mouth remained agape, caught off guard by the sight before me. "Ivan?" She called my name in surprise, her voice pulling me out of my trance. "What are you doing here?"
"I... I changed my mind," I stammered, struggling to find the right words, "and... and decided to spend some time with you before I leave because I know how bored you'd be." My words tumbled out in a rush, my eyes finding it hard to break away from her captivating presence.
"Really? You wanna keep me company?" She asked with a bright smile that seemed to enhance her already remarkable beauty. Her question hung in the air for a moment, a silent invitation that sent my heart racing.
"Yeah," I managed to nod, my throat suddenly dry. I followed her gesture and settled into the inviting red couch she had indicated. As I sat down, I couldn't help but feel a sudden wave of nervousness washing over me. Perhaps it was because I found myself in a room with an alluring lady who had nothing but a towel wrapped around her, or maybe it was the fact that this was my first time being in such an intimate situation.
Mrs. Meyer, still wearing that captivating smile, gracefully walked over to the inbuilt bar in the room to make drinks for the both of us. "I'm glad you changed your mind, Ivan. Staying alone in this big mansion gets quite dull."
"Thanks," I replied nervously as she handed me a glass of red wine. The room seemed to close in on me as I sat there, my senses heightened, my eyes occasionally wandering back to her.
She settled on the couch opposite me, her eyes locked onto mine. She took a slow, deliberate sip from her wine before speaking. "Honestly, Ivan, I was sad when you said you were leaving earlier."
I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for causing her sadness. "I noticed you were sad, but why?" I inquired, taking a sip from my wine to ease my growing nervousness.
"I was sad because I had no one to keep me company," she replied with a hint of vulnerability in her voice. Her answer surprised me, considering her elegance and the grandeur of her mansion. Loneliness, it seemed, could touch anyone.
"Don't you have friends?" I asked, genuinely curious, and she chuckled softly. "Of course, I do, but they're all out of the country for business," she explained, her eyes reflecting a touch of loneliness.
"Oh," I muttered, taking another sip from my wine, not knowing what else to say. Her world was so different from mine, and I was a mere observer in this exotic setting.
"So... How is it?" She teased with a warm smile, her gaze fixed on me as I took another sip of the wine.
I swallowed gently, my heart pounding as I looked deeply into her eyes before saying in a low voice that sounded almost like a tease, "It's... It's beautiful."
Mrs. Meyer giggled, her cheeks flushing slightly as she looked away, as if she knew I was using the wine as a means to compliment her stunning looks. Her laughter was like music in the room, and it made me feel more at ease.
"I prefer wine to soft drinks or fruit juice," her voice broke the brief silence as she returned her gaze to me.
"Even when it's alcoholic?" I raised my glass to study the dark, reddish color of the wine, intrigued by her preference.
"Yep!" She laughed and took another sip of her wine before asking, "And you, don't you like it, even when it has a little alcohol in it?"
"Alcohol?" I scoffed rhetorically, trying to appear more at ease than I felt. I took another sip. "My mom never allowed me to taste anything alcoholic, ever. It was one of the rules she gave me."
"So, like, uh... This is your first time?" She asked with a playful grin, leaning in slightly, her eyes locked onto mine.
"Mm-hmm," I hummed shyly, my gaze dropping to my glass of wine, feeling a mixture of excitement and trepidation at the idea of breaking a long-standing rule.
"Gosh, I'm such a bad influence," she shook her head with a suppressed chuckle, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Why would you say that?" I giggled immediately, finding her words amusing and somewhat confusing. She was no bad influence on me, at least not yet. She was a true definition of 'fun,' and her presence was a welcome change.
She turned her head slowly to face me, her lips parting as she spoke, "Well... Because I'm making you break one of your mother's rules – like giving you alcohol..."
"No, no, that's on me," I countered quickly, meeting her gaze directly. "I drank the wine because I wanted to," I confessed with a playful grin, feeling a surge of liberation. "I'm not sorry I broke my mom's rule of not drinking alcohol," I added with a chuckle before taking another sip.
"Mmm, you're sweet," Mrs. Meyer teased with a faint giggle, her eyes never leaving mine as she raised her glass to drink. The tension that had filled the room earlier was gradually replaced by a sense of comfort and ease as we continued to chat and sip our wine.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts and the warmth of the moment. The room felt more intimate now, and I couldn't help but steal glances at Mrs. Meyer, admiring her elegance and charm.
"Let me ask you," she crossed her legs carelessly, a playful smile on her lips, "Do you have many female friends?"
I swallowed hard when I caught a glimpse of her white panties from the corner of my eye, my cheeks reddening. "I, umm... I don't have many female friends."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my flustered state. "You don't?"
"I only have one female friend, Sasha," I replied with a nervous smile, grateful for the change of subject.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" She threw an unexpected question at me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment once again. The evening had taken an intriguing turn, and I had a feeling that it was just the beginning of a night filled with surprises.