Chapter 182: Ignore Him!
Olive’s face flushed with embarrassment. He still dared to tease her! Anxious about the cleaner’s presence, she’d tried to retrieve his underwear first. She considered it inappropriate for another woman to touch her husband's undergarments.
She stomped hard on his foot to vent her anger. Elvis held her waist tightly, refusing to release her. Though Olive had stepped on him, he felt no pain.
Olive wriggled, attempting to break free from his embrace. "If you do that again, I'll really ignore you!" she threatened.
Elvis held her fast, preventing her from moving. He kissed her hair. "Mrs. Augustine, I swear, I've never used my underwear to seduce a woman."
Olive's mood brightened, though she remained unhappy about the cleaner's free access to his room. "I don't care! Fire her. And next time, hire an elderly woman, not a young, beautiful one," she ordered. She couldn't understand why a young, attractive woman would work as a cleaner; she suspected the woman was after Elvis.
Elvis caressed her face. "I promise, Mama, I'll do as you say. At home, Grandma monitors the maids; only Mrs. Maria cleans my room. I'm sorry. Don't be upset."
Satisfied, Olive's gloomy mood lifted. Elvis had gently coaxed a smile back onto her face. Mrs. Samantha knew men like Elvis attracted female attention, and women would jump at any opportunity for proximity. Olive, expecting the same precautions in his office, considered Grandma's methods shrewd.
"If you do as I say, I'll forgive you," Olive pouted, rolling her eyes.
Elvis placed his hands on her flat stomach, slipping them under her shirt. His fingers rested on her skin.
Olive smiled, pushing his hand away. "What are you doing? You're at work! You're not allowed to mess around!"
He held her tighter, whispering, "This is my company, and you're my wife. I have the right to hold you as I please."
A creak announced the bathroom door opening. Someone entered. Olive, dishevelled and frightened, hid in Elvis's arms. He instantly shielded her. He glanced at the door—it was the cleaner Olive had dismissed.
Hearing Elvis had returned, she'd rushed over, unexpectedly finding them embracing. Olive's shirt threatened to slip. The woman froze, her eyes meeting Elvis's. She shivered, murmuring, "CEO... CEO..."
Elvis grabbed the liquid soap from the sink and flung it at the door. "Get out!" he commanded, his voice cold and menacing.
The soap splashed the woman's face. Terrified by Elvis's rage, she fled, covering her face. Elvis was furious; temptation was frequent, but this was rare. He touched Olive's hair. "I've sent her away. She'll leave LA."
Olive blushed, burying herself in his embrace. Without raising her head, she punched his chest. "It's still your fault. If it happens again, I'll ignore you!"
Elvis remained with Olive for a while. She'd changed into a white lace suspender, a purple cardigan, high-waisted jeans. Her beauty was striking. Elvis brought her favorite desserts as an apology, but she ignored him.
Her phone vibrated. It was Dean Sebastian. He likely called about the surgery. Olive answered.
"Hello, Dean."
"Olive. Do you have time to come to the hotel? I've booked a business suite. Marvin's arrived. I'll give you both the surgical plan."
Before Olive could reply, she heard footsteps—Elvis. He'd overheard Sebastian. His expression was calm; he simply stared at her, licking his lower lip.