The private brunch meeting had been postponed for a week, and it was finally scheduled for today. Jason arrived once again in Crestwood, stepping out of a private car that had been sent to collect him from Downtown. He was dropped off in front of a sleek glass-fronted building marked The Regency Lounge.
He adjusted his cufflinks as he approached the entrance. Melissa had called him two days earlier, explaining that the board members were impressed by his preliminary investment proposals and wanted to meet him in person. They were, as she phrased it, "a circle that prefers to evaluate people face to face before letting them in."
Jason understood immediately it was a private network, one that dealt in influence and power.
Inside, the lounge was refined and atmospheric, furnished with dark mahogany wood, muted lighting, and tall windows that framed the skyline. A waiter guided him toward a reserved section near the back, where a group of women were seated around an elongated table. Each was dressed with understated sophistication: tailored suits, flowing silk ensembles, and minimalist jewelry that could rival the cost of a luxury car.
'Wow. Women. They're all women. Incredible. Are the wealthiest people in this world also entirely women?' Jason wondered silently, astonished.
Melissa was already present, conversing with a poised woman in a white suit who appeared to be in her fifties. When she noticed Jason's arrival, her smile formed naturally and welcomingly.
"Mr. Jason," she said warmly. "I'm glad you could make it. Please, come in."
He gave a courteous nod. "Thank you for the invitation, Ms. Grant."
The others turned their attention toward him as he approached. Melissa gestured gracefully toward the group as she began the introductions.
"Jason, allow me to introduce some of Crestwood's most accomplished investors. This is Mrs. Evelyn Turner, real estate developer and chairwoman of the Crestwood Housing Association. Beside her is Ms. Lauren Vance, a logistics magnate who manages half of the region's freight distribution. Next to her is Ms. Fiona Rivers, founder of a luxury skincare brand, and finally, Ms. Rachel Holt, who oversees a private art investment fund."
Jason greeted each of them with composed ease. Their gazes, however, assessed him with a subtle blend of curiosity and silent appraisal, the kind reserved for new entrants into an established circle. He was not only a newcomer but also the first man, young, confident, and undeniably striking.
Melissa motioned for him to take a seat beside her. A waiter approached and poured him a drink while the conversation resumed in calm, deliberate tones.
Evelyn, the eldest of the group, spoke first.
"Melissa tells us you're considering joining Crestwood Central's private investment program. That's not a small commitment for someone your age."
Jason inclined his head slightly.
"I believe opportunities are rarely small when approached with clarity. I don't intend to rush, but I also don't see value in waiting for ideal conditions because they almost never exist."
Lauren let out a soft chuckle.
"You sound like someone who is already experienced with the market, and yet you are barely out of your twenties. I must admit, that is impressive and rather intriguing."
She looked at him with a subtle trace of desire and inclined her head once before biting her lower lip.
"Not exactly," Jason replied, "but I studied financial economics in university. I learned early that numbers do not fail people; people fail the numbers."
Melissa's eyes flickered with approval. He spoke with firm conviction yet without arrogance, maintaining precisely the tone she had hoped to see.
Fiona folded her arms lightly.
"That is a strong statement. So tell me, Mr. Jason, if you had a million dollars, hypothetically, where would you allocate it?"
The question mirrored the one Melissa had asked previously, though the figure differed.
Jason did not hesitate.
"In this current economy, I would divide it into three streams. First, real estate trusts in developing zones on the city's periphery. The long-term returns outweigh the short-term volatility. Second, private tech ventures focused on logistics or AI-driven manufacturing. Third, discreet asset holdings: art, collectibles, or rare commodities that appreciate independently of market cycles."
He deliberately offered a slightly different yet consistent answer from what he had given Melissa regarding ten million dollars.
Rachel raised a brow.
"Interesting. You are not overly cautious, are you?"
He regarded her calmly.
"Umm... caution is a shield, not a strategy. It protects you, but it does not propel you forward."
The table fell silent for a moment.
Lauren gave a low hum of amusement.
"Melissa was not exaggerating when she said you were sharp. If I were your age and perhaps less experienced, I would have suggested crypto or stock funds."
'Shit. That was exactly what I had planned before. Fuck.'
Jason smiled subtly.
"Trends make money for the first ones in and the last ones out. Everyone in between just fills the gap."
A quiet ripple of laughter passed around the table. The women exchanged glances that conveyed a shared sense of approval. They were unaccustomed to men, especially young ones, speaking with such calm authority in their domain.
As the discussion continued, Melissa steered it toward practical matters. They explored trade routes, investment trends, and market fluctuations. Jason listened intently, speaking only when precision was required.
'So many Milfs... Ugh, no. Not now, Jason. Concentrate on the task at hand. We are talking about business here, not pussies.'
At one point, Evelyn addressed him directly.
"What would you say is the biggest mistake investors make when entering a saturated market?"
Jason rested his hands on the table.
"They assume presence equals position. Visibility does not guarantee opportunity. Smart investors create alternative routes — channels that others overlook because they are fixated on the main entrance."
Melissa leaned back slightly, masking a subtle trace of satisfaction that crossed her features.
As the meeting drew to a close, the conversation turned to lighter topics. Rachel mentioned her upcoming art auction. Fiona shared a minor grievance about managing overseas shipments. Yet Jason remained composed, even as his thoughts strayed. These women were undeniably alluring and well-endowed, making it a challenge to fully suppress his distractions.
As the group began to disperse, Evelyn turned to Melissa and said, "Your instincts were right about him. He has something special."
Lauren added with a smile, "Yes, he has a strong perspective. I like that and will... enjoy discussing it with him privately soon."
Melissa responded with calm grace, though her gaze flicked briefly to Jason, whose expression remained composed and unreadable.
When the others had finally departed, she waited until they were out of earshot before turning to him.
"You performed well today. Better than I anticipated."
Jason grinned without replying.
Melissa's expression softened.
"But do not underestimate what occurred here. I will only tell you that."
He gave a small nod.
"Then I will make sure not to waste this new exposure."
They left the lounge together, stepping into the late afternoon light that reflected off the sleek cars parked outside. As they reached the curb, Melissa paused.
"I will contact you once the paperwork is finalized. Once you are officially in the circle, the real work begins."
"I will be ready," Jason said steadily.
As she walked toward her car, Jason remained standing for a few seconds before he turned and began walking toward the main street.
'Step by step,' he thought with calm satisfaction.