The Red Lounge

Chapter 25

Elijah drove up a white cobble stone driveway that led to an exceptionally upscale house. It was a light beige and accented by stones a few shades darker than the house color. The front lawn was bright green with just a few shrubs laid in front of the entrance.

Elijah parked his Jeep Cherokee on the driveway in front of the house. He walked to the passenger side door and held my hand.

"Geez, you guys are rich."

"My dad is, not me," he corrected, humbly.

"Have you seen your apartment?" I questioned. "You're rich."

He gave me a side eye glance and proceeded to walk to the large dark brown doors. He took his keys out to unlock the enormous doors. As it opened, a large opening space was revealed. The majority of the house was all white and grey, with the furniture being a dark color. There were two grand staircases that led to the upper level of the house.

I nearly jumped back when I saw an older man standing by the railing of the stairs. I was distracted by the design of the house that I didn't notice Elijah's dad was staring at the two of us.

"Elijah," the man spoke sternly. "And the mysterious beauty," he added with more of a playful tone.

"Morena," I replied, shyly.

He walked down the stairs with such confidence and pose. Elijah did mention his dad was a lawyer so its apparent he's had years of practicing his stance.

"Felix tells me that Elijah has been enamored by a young lady. Though, no one seems to know who it was, until today."

His voice was deep and raspy, almost like Eljjah's but with more age to it. He was slightly tan with a salt and pepper colored hair. He wore a silver dress shirt with a black blazer thrown on top. I can see where Elijah got his sense of style and color from, though I wasnt going to complain.

"Nicholas Christensen," he introduced, offering his hand.

I took it, and I was taken aback by how warm his had felt. It didn't seem like there was much going on, emotionally speaking, yet he was inviting.

"Morena Noël," I responded.

"Latin first name, French surname. Where are your parents from?" Nicholas asked.

"My mom is Ecuadorian, my dad is French."

"Beautiful mix," he complimented. "We are just white," he laughed. "Some Italian, some Scandinavian, possibly British. We don't know."

"Whatever it is, it works," I responded, looking up at Elijah who had a smirk on his face.

"I looked like him when I was younger so if it follows, he might look like me at 55."

"I won't mind at all."

Nicholas tilted his head to the side and chuckled. "What a charmer you have, Elijah."

Elijah wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close. "She's something special."

Nicholas clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Food arrived about 10 minutes ago, I'm sure it's still warm. We can sit down, eat, and talk more."

Elijah and Nicholas walked ahead of me, I attempted to follow closely behind them but I was in too much awe. The house was what I imagined myself having once I was married and settled down. It was completely different from what those in DC grew up with since mostly everyone lived in townhomes or apartments. Well, everyone in my part of city did anyways.

The table had been set already. There were two plates on one side of the table and another plate directly across. We sat in our assumed seats and Elijah began serving us.