Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

“Oh, really?”

On the couch sat a middle–aged man, seemingly in his early forties. His hair was slicked back, revealing a thinning patch that hinted at the onset of baldness. Fine lines etched his face, and his belly slightly protruded–a telltale sign of middle–aged spread.

Ernest Smith, clad in a suit, carried the air of authority well, as befitting his high status..

Glancing up, Ernest sized up the young woman before him. “Your name… Sherilyn?”

“Yes.

gave Sherilyn a knowing look, prompting her to step forward confidently.

Colin gave

“Mr. Smith, I’m Sherilyn. Like the splendor in ‘splendid‘, Sherilyn as in the “lyric‘ of a song.”

“Oh?”

Ernest savored her name, smiling. “Sherilyn, that’s a lovely name.”

And not just the name, her looks were even more impressive.

Though her face was obscured by a mask on stage, her eyes hinted at beauty.

But in person, she was breathtaking.

“Thank you.”

Sherilyn smiled, her eyes twinkling like stars.

“I’ve come to thank you, Mr. Smith. For your patronage these past few days, and for the flowers… I really appreciated them.”

“Is that so?” Ernest’s brows lifted, his pleasure evident. “Glad you liked them.”

“Mr. Smith…” As Sherilyn spoke, Colin gestured discreetly, and a waiter approached with a tray. Sherilyn picked up a glass of wine and offered it to Ernest Smith..

“This is for you, Mr. Smith.”

“Well said.” Ernest accepted the glass.

Sherilyn then took another glass from the tray. “Here’s to you.”

With that, she tipped the glass back, draining it in one go.

“Cough.” The drink went down the wrong way.

Embarrassed, Sherilyn chuckled. “I’m not much of a drinker, Mr. Smith. Please, forgive

1. me.

“No problem.” Ernest smiled, frowning slightly. “If you can’t hold your liquor, there’s no

need to push yourself. No need for formalities with me, alright?”

“Sure.” Sherilyn smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Smith.”

Ernest raised his glass and followed suit, “See, I’ve joined you. From now on, let’s keep it casual.”

“Alright.” Sherilyn smiled, acknowledging the moment before stepping back.

“Mr. Smith, I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll be on my way.”

“Alright.”

As Sherilyn turned to leave, she paused, looking back at Ernest. “Mr. Smith, will you be here tomorrow?”

Ernest was momentarily taken aback before replying, “Would you like me to be?”

“Of course.” Sherilyn nodded, not waiting for a response. “Then, I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

With that, she left.

Ernest chuckled to himself, “Interesting… very interesting.”

Outside the room, Colin looked at Sherilyn with a complex expression.

“Sherilyn, are you sure about this?”

Her actions suggested a deliberate approach towards Ernest–a risky move once entangled, it’s hard to back out.

Sherilyn was noncommittal, “Colin, what do you think of Mr. Smith?”

“Well…” Colin sighed, being honest. “He’s… you know, quite a bit older than you.”

Far too old, enough to be her father, but he figured she didn’t need him to point that out.

Sherilyn, however, shook her head, “That’s not what I meant. I mean… do you think it’s okay?”

“Huh?”