CHAPTER 195: MEETING ELIZABETH

I sank into the plushy couch in the massive entrance hall, the cushions so soft they practically swallowed me. The place was like something out of a magazine—polished marble floors, a glittering chandelier overhead, and walls lined with ancient paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum.

I grabbed the glass of juice from the silver tray the maid had left, the liquid catching the light in a swirl of orange and pink. I took a sip, and my eyes widened. It was the freshest thing I’d ever tasted, like someone had squeezed a whole orchard into one glass.

"Mmm," I mumbled, staring at the drink, trying to figure out if it was mixed fruit or some fancy import I’d never heard of.

I reached for a cookie next, small and golden, with a faint sheen like it was dusted with magic. One bite, and it melted in my mouth, soft and rich, like chocolate and butter had a love child. My eyebrows shot up. Definitely not from the corner store, I thought. Probably some fancy import or something.

"Seems like you’re enjoying the French biscuits," a woman’s voice called out, smooth and warm, with a hint of amusement.

I turned my head toward the sound, my eyes landing on the spiral staircase at the far end of the hall. Mrs. Elizabeth was descending, each step deliberate, like she owned every inch of this place—and she did.

She wore a cream-colored silk gown, sheer enough to hint at the curves of her boobs and waist beneath, ending high on her thighs with a single knot tied at her waist. The neckline dipped low, revealing the edge of a lacy bra that peeked through her half open cleavage, giving her a look that was equal parts elegant and downright hot. Her dark hair was damp, clinging to her shoulders like she’d just stepped out of the shower, and her eyes—sharp and knowing—caught the light as she moved.

"Good morning," I said, scrambling to my feet, my throat suddenly dry. I swallowed hard, trying not to stare. She was... a lot.

"Good morning, Ezra," she replied, her lips curving into a small smile as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "Heh, you don’t have to be so formal with me, you know."

I rubbed the back of my neck, forcing a grin. "Yeah, well, it’s not every day I’m in the country’s first lady’s house, so..."

She laughed softly, the sound light but genuine, and waved a hand as she closed the distance between us.

"Oh, relax. It’s just a house." She sat down on the couch beside me, so close I could feel the warmth of her presence. She crossed her legs, the silk of her gown slipping slightly higher, and reached for a biscuit from the tray. She popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.

I felt my face heat up, a flush creeping up my neck. Her perfume hit me—a soft, floral scent that was all woman, mixing with the damp freshness of her hair. The way she looked at me, those dark eyes half-hidden by a few loose strands of hair, made my pulse kick up a notch. I cleared my throat, trying to play it cool

She leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand, her elbow propped on her knee, and a slow, teasing smile spread across her lips.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, her voice soft but playful, like she already knew the answer.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry as a desert. "Nothing... it’s just... you’re looking really beautiful, ma’am," I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My face felt hot, and I hoped she couldn’t see me blushing.

She raised an eyebrow, her smile turning sly.

"Oh, is that so?" she whispered, leaning in closer, close enough that I could smell her perfume—something floral and warm, like a summer garden after rain.

Her fingers brushed my jaw, light as a feather but electric, sending a shiver down my spine. "And yet this beautiful woman gave you her number, and you didn’t think to call even once in two days?"

I froze, my brain scrambling for an excuse. "I-I’m sorry," I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck. "I got caught up. There was this... marriage event I had to go to the other day, and yesterday I was out all day with a friend, so..." It was a half-truth, at best. The real reason was Aeri—her face, her words, the way she’d shut me down still burned in my chest. I’d been too messed up to check my phone, let alone call anyone.

Elizabeth tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly, like she could see right through my story.

"I called you multiple times, you know," she said, her voice low, almost teasing, but with an edge that made me squirm.

"Hmm?" I blinked, confused, then realized I hadn’t even looked at my phone since yesterday.

I’d silenced it when I was with Aeri, not wanting any interruptions. Finding out of my pocket, I glanced at the screen and felt my stomach drop. Five missed calls from an unknown number—probably her—and two from Jonathan. Great, I thought. Jonathan’s gonna have my head for this.

"Ehehe, sorry," I said, flashing a sheepish grin as I held up the phone. "Guess I missed those." In my head, I was already bracing for Jonathan’s lecture. He’d probably chew me out for ignoring him, especially if he knew I was here and what if there was a client today I needed to attend there? Arghh..

Elizabeth’s smile softened, and she reached out, placing her hand over mine. Her touch was warm, her fingers soft but firm, and it sent a jolt through me.

"It’s okay," she said, her voice gentle now, almost soothing. "At least you’re here now."

I nodded, my heart still pounding as I tried to focus on anything but how close she was.

"Yeah.."