Chapter 7

Ivy’s small studio apartment was completely overturned as she spent two hours getting ready. She blinked as she stared at herself in the mirror at a quarter to nine. It was like she had been walking on clouds the whole day since she received the parcel. She couldn’t even recognize herself, or her actions. Why was she doing this? What sorcery had possessed her to go through with this?

The red dress was a fitting cocktail dress that clung to every curve of her body, stretching tight across her thighs. The neck plunged low, revealing most of her cleavage and had a dipping back. She couldn’t find matching shoes and had to make do with a pair of black stilettos which she had been saving for a special occasion. She had done up her hair in a neat bun at the top of her head, with some shorter locks of strawberry blond hair falling gracefully to the sides and framing her face. A rich wine lipstick which she found at the bottom of her drawer was smoothly laid on her lips and she went with a smoky look for her eyes. She couldn’t believe she had gone to such lengths in getting dressed for the night, but now that she had decided to meet him, there was no point going half-heartedly.

At nine, she locked her apartment behind her and went downstairs to find a sparkling black stretch limo in front of the building. A uniformed chauffeur was standing straight, holding the door open for her and without exchanging any words, Ivy stepped in. She half expected Travis to be inside the car, but he wasn’t, so she rode the rest of the journey in complete silence.

The limo drove through the city, passing neighborhoods till they drove into the more affluent part of the city. Houses were spread wide apart with larger grounds and Ivy couldn’t remember if she had ever been here before. The limo drove in through massive wrought iron gates and down a pebbled driveway and Ivy’s eyes widened as she drank in the manicured lawns and how far and wide the estate stretched.

The car stopped outside a majestic red brick townhouse that stood elegantly in the middle of the sprawling grounds. A marble fountain greeted her, when the chauffeur opened the door for her again, giving her his hand to help her step out. Ivy was flooded with self-consciousness as her heels scraped against the pebbled ground. She steadied herself on her feet and breathed in deeply, facing the house now.

She hadn’t even taken a step before the front door painted white was lightly thrown open and Travis stepped out. He was illuminated by the flood of bright yellow light on the porch and her breath choked up in her throat. She stood for a few moments, staring at him because she couldn’t believe that she was actually going to have dinner with someone who looked like him. He was in a three-piece midnight blue suit, with a white shirt and a steel-gray tie. His clothes looked tailored and exuded wealth. Ivy stepped towards the stairs that led up to the porch and noticed the shining black leather shoes he was wearing. The blueness of his eyes looked brilliant and sparkling, matching the clothes he was wearing. He had a serious firm expression on his face, and he swirled the glass of whiskey in his hand with his other one tucked into the pocket of his pants.

“You wear that dress well, Ivy,” he said, as she climbed up the stairs, watching her every step because she didn’t want to embarrass herself by falling. Travis was watching her every move as well, deliciously scanning the way the dress fitted her. The dip of her neck, her heaving cleavage, the curve of her hips. She stood in front of him now, and her stilettos contributed very little to match his height. He was still at least a foot taller than her.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here, I shouldn’t have come,” Ivy said, forcing herself to look straight into his eyes and a faint grin formed on his face.

“But here you are,” he said in that deep voice of his that seeped straight into her soul.

“I thought you didn’t play games, Travis,” she said, surprised by the conviction in her own voice. He swirled his drink again and then took a large sip.

“I don’t,” he said and turned sideways to push open the front door. “And this is not a game,” he added and held it open for her to step in.

Once inside the house, she was nearly blinded by the twinkling brightness of the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the foyer. Travis kept his distance from her, as he led her through the foyer into what was the living room, but Ivy had never actually seen one like it before except in perhaps movies.

The room was luxuriously decorated, with ruffled bottle green curtains, Turkish rugs and elaborate upholstery on the couches and chairs. A polished oak coffee table lay in the middle of the room, and everywhere Ivy turned, the walls were covered in oil paintings and shelves filled with books. The room seemed to be straight out of a medieval King’s home. She had to remind herself to not swoon over home decor.

“Have a seat, Ivy. May I offer you some wine?” she heard his voice, snapping her out of her admiring thoughts.

“Yes,” she said and walked hesitantly towards one of the couches. They didn’t look like they had ever been sat on. Travis had walked over to the bar in the corner of the room and he was now pouring red wine into a crystal glass, while she looked about herself some more.

“I’m glad you’ve accepted my apology,” she heard him say and Ivy held her chin up as he turned to face her again, with the glass of wine in his hand.

“I never said I have,” she replied and crossed her leg under his watchful gaze.