Chapter 54: Princess Hug
Olive returned to the Red Villa and gave the Barbie doll she'd bought to Mrs. Samantha. Mrs. Samantha was delighted, quickly taking several pictures and wanting to post them on social media.
“Olly, are you on social media? Give me your handle; I'll follow you. From now on, Grandma will be your number one fan.”
Olive hadn't expected Mrs. Samantha to be so tech-savvy.
“Grandma, let’s follow each other!” she replied.
“My handle is ‘grandma_who_is_eighteen_years_old’,” Mrs. Samantha said.
Olive smiled, searching for Mrs. Samantha’s account. The old lady had already posted the photo of herself and the Barbie, captioned “Thank you, my Olly.” Olive liked the post.
“Olly, Grandma has something for you, too,” the old lady said mysteriously, pressing a purse into Olive’s palm.
Olive examined the beautiful purse. It was crafted from African gold, the word “Augustine” embroidered on it.
“Grandma, what is this?” Olive asked, surprised.
“In this purse, I’ve placed a prayer list of things I want. And a child from Elvis is… the majority of the content,” Mrs. Samantha muttered. Olive smiled faintly; she knew better than to expect a change of subject.
“Thanks, Grandma. I’ll take good care of it,” Olive said.
Two bright car headlights appeared in the windows. Mrs. Samantha laughed softly. “Elvis is back.”
Olive, having been away for seven days, rushed to the door. A Rolls-Royce Phantom was parked on the lawn. The driver’s door opened, revealing a tall, handsome figure. Elvis, clad in a custom-made black suit, looked impeccably dressed.
Olive initially wanted to run out to greet him, but changed her mind, hiding behind the doorframe to surprise him. Phoebe, squatting at Olive’s feet, watched her mistress curiously. Olive quickly shushed the cat. Peeking out, she saw Elvis approaching and quickly averted her gaze, though he’d already seen a glimpse of her dress.
She waited for him to pass, planning to startle him. Seconds passed, and he didn't move. She poked her head out, but Elvis was gone.
“Huh, where did he go?”
Olive tiptoed outside, searching. Phoebe’s scream startled her. Olive saw her cat standing beside Elvis’s leg.
Elvis leaned against the wall, one hand in his pocket. Smiling, he asked, “Looking for me?”
He’d deliberately teased her. Feeling foolish, Olive hugged Phoebe. “I wasn’t looking for you, I was searching for Phoebe.”
She grabbed Phoebe and headed upstairs. Seeing her anger, Elvis scooped her up. Olive struggled, wriggling to be released. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Nothing, just hug me,” Elvis said, tightening his hold and twirling her.
Mrs. Samantha, hearing the commotion, rushed out. Seeing Elvis swinging Olive, she hit him on the waist. “Put her down! Put Olive down!”
Mr. Henry, equally startled, intervened. “Sir, please put her down; it’s dangerous.”
Olive’s face flushed crimson. Under the watchful eyes of the household, she felt mortified.
Elvis’s strong arms held Olive securely; she couldn't fall. But yielding to his grandmother's pleas, he released her. Olive stumbled, regaining her composure before fleeing.
Elvis, realizing he'd embarrassed her, followed. Olive ignored him, seemingly angry. He removed his jacket, handing it to Mr. Henry.
“Grandma, is dinner ready? I’m famished.”
“Oh, I’ll bring it now, son,” Mrs. Samantha replied, heading to the kitchen.
Elvis followed Olive. As he approached, he inhaled her sweet fragrance. Lowering his eyes, he murmured, “Are you angry?”
He gently touched her shoulders. “Who told you you could hide to startle me? Don't be angry. I apologize.”
His gesture only annoyed her further. She tried to dodge, but he released her shoulders, capturing her waist instead.
“Mrs. Augustine, if you’re angry, I’ll…”
Olive snorted defiantly. “I don’t care!”
Elvis promptly lifted her again and carried her upstairs.