Chapter 672: Tonight I Want to Do Something Naughty

He mumbled incoherently, causing Olive to furrow her delicate brows. A dance ended, and Elvis released her silently, turning to leave. Olive watched him go, confusion mounting. What was wrong? She had questions, but his uncooperative demeanor left her few options. She had to win him over, but how? Perplexed, she messaged North on Facebook: “North, what should I do when a man is angry?” North replied: “Mr. Augustine is angry? Then try… quarreling at the head of the bed and making up at the end.” Quarrel at the head of the bed… and make up at the end? Perfect! Olive blushed, quickly hiding her phone. It was embarrassing, but with Elvis, this seemed foolproof. He should like it.

Torn between embarrassment and the risk of failure, she decided on a drink for courage. Olive headed to the refreshments, knowing her low tolerance meant even a small amount of alcohol would affect her. She had two glasses of wine. Tonight, she would win Elvis over!

In the corridor, she found his secretary instead. “Excuse me, where is Mr. Augustine?”

The secretary, respectful upon seeing Olive, replied, “President Augustine is in a meeting. If you’re looking for him, you can wait in his office.” “Thank you.” Olive waited, but he didn’t return. The wine took hold, her head growing hazy. Then, steady footsteps approached. The door opened, revealing Elvis. Olive’s eyes brightened. She rushed to him, throwing her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest, murmuring tipsily, “Elvis, hug… hug~”

The Augustine executives nearby froze. Olive was drunk. Unbeknownst to her, Elvis was with a group of high-level executives, the meeting unfinished. She had embraced him before they'd even entered the room.

Later, a sober Olive wished she could disappear. The executives stood frozen, mouths agape. Who was this woman? Her audacity was shocking. The manager, unable to contain himself, said, “Ahem, President, should we continue the meeting?”

Elvis’s cold gaze silenced him. The manager’s scalp tingled. He’d felt like he’d intruded. Elvis, having caught Olive before she stumbled, gently stroked her hair, asking softly, “What’s wrong?”

“My… head is spinning.” Elvis lifted her into his arms, carrying her to his desk. He placed her gently upon it, his tall figure leaning down. He stared at her blushing face. “Did you drink alcohol?” He smelled the faint scent of wine.

“Yes, a little.”

“You shouldn’t drink. Why did you?”

Sitting on the desk, Olive swung her legs, accidentally kicking Elvis’s trousers. She looked up at him, embarrassed, pouting, “Because… because tonight, I want to do something naughty…”

Elvis, in his impeccably tailored suit, held her close, indulging in a forbidden moment. “What kind of naughty thing?” His lips curved slightly.

“Do… do…” Olive bit her lip, struggling to speak. She embraced his neck, whispering, “Do something… naughty with you. Do you want to… do it?”

The executives heard. They gasped. The secretary, unable to bear witness any longer, coughed, “Ahem, President, should we continue the meeting?”

Elvis didn’t turn. His tall form shielded Olive. He said, “Adjourn the meeting.” The secretary slammed the door shut. The executives were stunned. When had their reserved President Augustine become so… indulgent?

Inside the office, Elvis’s eyebrows twitched at Olive’s words. A devilish charm flickered in his eyes. “Do you really want to do something naughty?”

“Yes.” Olive gazed at his handsome face, leaning in to kiss him. Elvis evaded her. Confused, she tried again, but he avoided her kiss.