Chapter 130: Freda, am I in trouble?
Augustine and Charles had spent a blissful morning and afternoon together, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence, but as the clock ticked past four in the evening, Augustine reluctantly pulled himself from the bed, hurrying to get dressed.
Slipping into a sleek black suit and trouser, Augustine averted his gaze over to Charles.
With a gentle touch, he placed his hands on Charles’s shoulder and gave a soft shake, his voice laced with affection. "Pookie, wake up," he murmured.
Charles burrowed deeper into the pillow, his face half-hidden as he let out a sleepy grunt.
His shoulders tensed slightly as he tried to shake off Augustine’s gentle nudging, determined to cling to sleep for just a little longer.
But Augustine was just as persistent.
The more Charles shrugged Augustine off, the more he continued his soft, teasing shakes.
After a few moments of this playful back-and-forth, Augustine let out a quiet chuckle.
Instead of shaking him again, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against Charles’s ear. "Pookie," Augustine whispered, his voice velvety soft, "if you don’t wake up, I might just have to carry you with me."
No response.
Sigh!
"Pookie, I have to get going." Augustine whispered.
Charles nod. "Hmm," he purred with a sleepy voice.
Augustine sighed, running a hand through his neatly styled hair. "When are you planning to come to the event launch?" he asked, his tone casual but laced with underlying curiosity. "I heard the cleaners are expected to be there on time."
Though Augustine’s words were a simple remark, there was more to them—he wasn’t just informing Charles that he was about to leave; he was also subtly reminding him of his role at the event.
It was his way of making sure Charles would be there on time.
After Augustine’s question, he waited for a response, but Charles remained completely silent.
Letting out another sigh, Augustine leaned in closer, his lips just inches away from Charles’s ear. "Pookie," Augustine murmured, his voice dipping into a seductive whisper, his breath warm against Charles’s hair. "Did you hear what I said earlier?"
His tone carried both patience and playful persistence, determined to pull Charles out of his feigned slumber.
Charles nodded lazily. "I’ll... I’ll be there soon, so just go," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, eyes still shut.
Augustine swallowed hard, lingering for a moment as he watched Charles nestle deeper into the pillow. "Don’t be late, okay?" he said, his voice softer this time.
Charles gave another sleepy nod, barely moving.
With a quiet sigh, Augustine leaned away from Charles, his movements careful as if afraid to disturb the peaceful slumber before him.
Turning, he reached for his briefcase on the bedside table, his fingers lingering on the handle for a brief moment.
Satisfied—though reluctant—Augustine finally turned to leave, casting one last glance over his shoulder, his gaze softening at the sight of Charles’s serene expression.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Augustine’s lips before he finally turned away, heading for the door.
~~~
*Beep Beep!*
The loud beeping sound from beneath Charles pillow table made Charles squint his eyes, his face twisting into a deep frown.
The persistent ringing, muffled beneath his pillow, only added to his irritation.
With a groggy sigh, he reached beneath the pillow, fingers fumbling until they wrapped around his phone.
Letting out a low hiss, Charles pulled it out, blinking at the bright screen as he tried to shake off the remnants of sleep.
Without checking the caller ID, Charles picked up the call and pressed the phone to his ear.
"Pookie, all the cleaners are already here, so get here as soon as possible, okay?" Augustine’s voice came through in a hushed whisper.
He held the phone close to his lips as he strolled through the models’ dressing room, conducting a final inspection.
Charles sighed. "Umm... I’ll be there soon." He mumbled.
"Okay, see you soon." Augustine purred and with that, he hung up the phone call.
Charles’s shoulders slumped in exhaustion as he slid his phone back beneath his pillow with a tired sigh.
The weight of the previous day’s labor still clung to his body, making it nearly impossible to shake off the drowsiness.
Even Augustine’s call hadn’t been enough to fully rouse him.
Thirty minutes later, the phone rang again, its insistent vibration nudging Charles from his half-conscious state.
Groaning, Charles reached beneath the pillow, retrieved the phone, and pressed it against his ear without even opening his eyes.
"Charles!"
Freda’s sharp voice blasted through the speaker, jolting Charles to sit upright as if he had been doused with ice-cold water.
"Freda... am—am I in trouble?" he stammered, gripping the phone tighter.
The last remnants of sleep vanished instantly.
From the urgency in Freda’s tone, Charles could already tell—he was either already in deep trouble or about to be.
"Charles, it’s half past six, and the event starts at seven! Where the hell are you?" Freda snapped, her voice laced with urgency.
In a heartbeat, he was out of bed, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed toward the bathroom.
"I... I’m about to take a cab. I’ll be there in five minutes," he blurted, yanking open the faucet and splashing cold water on his face.
A blatant lie.
Freda scoffed on the other end. "Liar."
"I swear, I’m on my way," he insisted, fumbling for his toothbrush with one hand while pulling open a drawer with the other.
"Liar," Freda deadpanned. "I’ll give you ten minutes before I start telling everyone you got food poisoning."
Charles groaned. "Fine! Fifteen minutes— max!"
"Ten."
"Hmm, you should better be here by ten. The head cleaner staff have been searching everywhere for you—"
Before Freda could complete her phrase, Charles hung up the phone call, as he swiftly took off his clothes, tossing his phone onto the counter as he scrambled to get ready.
He took a quick shower, the cold water jolting him fully awake.
After drying off, Charles stepped out of the bathroom and hurried to the wardrobe, pulling out a sleek black suit, a crisp white long-sleeve shirt, and matching black trousers.
Charles had bought the suit while Augustine was away on his business trip, using the money Augustine had given him.
Once Charles was fully dressed, he took a moment to style his hair, ensuring every strand was in place.
He then slipped on his medicated glasses, the lenses catching a faint reflection of the warm bedroom light.
Reaching for a tube of red lip gloss, he applied just a little bit of lip gloss-enough to enhance his natural lip color without making it too heavy or shiny.
Satisfied with his appearance, he flashed himself a confident smile before heading into Augustine’s closet.
Without hesitation, Charles grabbed Augustine’s signature perfume and sprayed it generously over his clothes, letting the familiar scent envelop him like a comforting embrace.
"This must be expensive," Charles thought as he stepped out of the closet, making his way out of the mansion with the intention of having a wonderful time at the event launch.
Little did he know, the evening would shatter the fragile reputation he had, and push him into making choices he never thought possible.