Chapter 61: She Won’t Go Home Tonight

North, a rising star whose photographs were constantly in demand by the media, wore a discreet, almost disguised outfit today. A black jumpsuit and a small, feathery white bag—it was simple, yet on North, it looked stunning and vibrant. To avoid recognition, she added a feathery white hat, her brown curls cascading over her shoulders, effortlessly drawing attention.

Olive waved, her gloomy mood instantly brightening. “North? Over here!”

North approached, taking Olive’s face in her hands. “Olive! I haven’t seen you in days.”

Olive smiled, murmuring, “Neither have I seen you.”

North’s manager, Erica Dante, pushed her suitcase, noticing people pulling out their phones to take pictures. She approached North and Olive. “Good day, Miss Olive. Miss North, I think this is too conspicuous. Let’s get to the car.”

“Good day,” Olive replied with a smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

A luxury car awaited. Erica placed the suitcase in the trunk. North ushered Olive into the car.

A deep male voice asked, “Where are you headed?”

North turned, her eyes meeting Elvis’s. She removed her sunglasses, revealing a face as captivating as Los Angeles. “Mr. Augustine, I’ve admired your name for a long time. I didn’t expect to meet you so soon. Erica, Mr. Augustine’s car will drop us off; you can take my suitcase.”

“Okay, Miss,” Erica replied, getting into the car. North and Olive exited as the driver departed with Erica.

Elvis, ever the gentleman, opened the Rolls-Royce Phantom’s rear door. “Please, come in.”

Olive entered; North moved closer, whispering awkwardly, “Olive, you really do have good eyesight.”

“North? What are you talking about?” Olive whispered back.

Elvis joined them, abruptly ending their conversation. The car glided smoothly. Olive looked at North. “North, when will you go back?”

For two years, North had maintained an incredibly demanding schedule: filming, acting, and numerous business engagements, including attending top-tier fashion shows.

North pondered, then looked at Elvis in the driver’s seat. “Mr. Augustine, I heard you spent $1.2 million on Hart’s medical treatment. My friend Olive has a kind heart and wouldn’t hurt a fly. But me? I’m different. If I hurt Pamela—that certified bitch—would you mind?”

Elvis, through the rearview mirror, raised his handsome eyebrows, his gaze lingering on Olive’s bright eyes. “I don’t know her, so do as you wish.”

It seemed directed at Olive, who avoided his gaze.

North, without another word to Elvis, took Olive’s arm. “Olive, we haven’t seen each other in ages. Don’t go home tonight; stay with me.”

Before Olive could respond, Elvis frowned. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” North asked, confused.

“You both just met in New York. It hasn’t been long.” “Not seeing each other for a day feels like a year. President Augustine, you can spend a million on a girl but won’t let my Olive spend the night with her best friend? Why?” Elvis felt a headache coming on. He was certain North was deliberately bringing this up. “If Olive doesn’t return home, many people will miss her—Grandma and Phoebe.”

North retorted, “That’s their problem.”

Elvis said nothing, his eyes on Olive. She understood; he didn’t want her staying with North because he needed her at home. The dignified CEO of Augustine Corporation had cleverly used his grandmother and innocent Phoebe as a shield—it was he who would miss her.

Olive nodded. “Okay, North, I’ll stay with you. Mr. Augustine, please tell Grandma I won’t be home tonight.”

Elvis looked away, his gaze fixed on the neon lights. He pursed his lips. “Just tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“That won’t work. Olive’s stay depends on my mood,” North countered.

Elvis knew better than to argue with a woman. Olive looked at Elvis; his face was impassive. His shirt was unbuttoned twice—elegant and charming, yet she knew he was angry. She looked away.

The car arrived at North’s apartment. North politely thanked Elvis. “Goodnight, Mr. Augustine.”

They entered the apartment, then the elevator. North said proudly, “He seemed angry. He deserves it. If I don’t stand up for you, who will?”

Olive wanted to avoid dealing with Elvis.

Inside the apartment, North smiled. “It seems Mr. Augustine was pleased you returned from New York. What was that look on his face when I said you weren't going home? If you hadn't supported my decision, I would have been scared.”

Olive chuckled. “We didn’t do anything.”

“Really? Olive, honestly? How far have you progressed?” North asked, her brows furrowed.

Olive hesitated, her eyes meeting North’s. “Okay, fine. We kissed!”