CHAPTER 219: TAG ALONG.

Those present turned their attention toward the young lady, promptin her to bow her head slightly in embarrassment.

"Sorry," she murmured under her breath.

Once the weight of their stares lifted and eyes drifted away, she exhaled deeply, the breath shaky and loud with relief.

The young lady was dressed in a sleek black gown that hugged her chest with alluring precision, while the fabric from her waist down puffed out in layers, stopping just inches close to her knees, giving it the flair of a modern, reinvented ball gown.

Her black heels added a graceful height to her already striking presence, and her hair, smooth and lustrous, fell neatly just above her shoulders.

Clutched in her left hand was a silver handbag, delicately adorned with tiny crystals that caught the light with every step she took.

"Charles! I can’t believe I’d run into you here," she purred, her voice barely above a whisper, soft enough to be mistaken for the hum of background music.

With swift, eager steps, the young lady closed the distance between them, arms outstretched before pulling Charles into a warm, lingering hug.

"What are the odds, Freda," Charles murmured, his voice laced with amusement as he rested his chin lightly against the curve of her neck. "I never imagined you’d be the type to show up at one of these rich folks parties as a guest." Charles added, his tone was teasing as he slowly pulled away from the hug, his gaze flicking across Freda’s face with a familiar spark.

As they stood just some inches away from each other, Charles just couldn’t help himself but to smile in excitement, staring deeply into the gaze of Freda.

Seconds later, Freda proceed in clearing her throat before speaking up. "I hate rich folks party." She stated, snapping beg fingers in the air as a matter of fact. "Also, I came here with Reginald." She added, averting her gave back to the entrance door of the room to see if Reginald had stepped inside the building.

"Wait... Reginald gets invited to these kinds of parties?" Charles questioned, brows narrowing with a flicker of unease.

If Reginald is here, then Augustine might be too...

The thought struck Charles like a flash of lightning, sending a ripple through his composure.

Freda gave a small nod, her gaze shifting back to Charles with a soft smile. "Reginald tagged along with CEO Augustine," she explained casually. "But he didn’t want me staying home alone all night, so..."

Freda words trailed off with a playful shrug. "He asked me to tag along."

Charles breath hitched. It all makes sense to him now.

Charles hadn’t even considered the possibility of Augustine showing up at Aubrey’s father’s birthday.

He’d convinced himself Augustine was spending the day out with his mother—at least, that’s what Augustine had told him.

’Unless... this is the outing Augustine talked about?’

The thought hit hard as Charles pulse quickened, his chest tightening with uncertainty.

Would Augustine really show up here? Charles questioned no one in particular. ’Gush... that’s so fucked up.’ He mused deep within himself.

Quickly, Charles’s hands moved to the back of his waist as he fumbled with the knot of his apron. "I... I think I have to go," he muttered, his voice low and shaky, each word tumbling out.

"Why?" Freda asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

Her gaze dropped to the apron still hanging around Charles body. "And why didn’t you tell me you had another side job tonight?"

Charles swallowed hard as a wave of panic surged through his chest.

He knew deep down that if Augustine ever found out he was working at Aubrey’s father’s birthday, the disappointment would cut deep.

Worse still, if Augustine walked through those doors now, there was a high chance his mother would be right beside him. After all, he’d said they were going out together.

The thought made Charles’s pulse quicken.

’I guess his mom told him I couldn’t tag along to this rich folks’ party,’ Charles mused, his thoughts spiraling. ’Or could it be she’s still trying to set him up with Aubrey?’

Fuck!

The thought made Charles stomach twist. ’But she promised to let Augustine and I become a thing... didn’t she?’

Dozens of doubts swirled through Charles mind like a storm, and just as the weight of it all began to crush him, a sharp snap echoed in front of his face.

"Charles!" Freda snapped her fingers again.

He blinked rapidly, his lashes fluttering as he finally drew in a deep breath, snapping back to reality.

"Charles, is everything okay? You just spaced out all of a sudden. Is the work treating you unfairly? Or do you need help?" Freda asked softly, her brows creased with concern. "I don’t mind joining you in serving, as long as it eases your stress."

Charles let out a soft chuckle, running his tongue slowly across his lips before flashing a teasing smirk.

"The fact that you’re this caring is making me reconsider my choice of being gay," he said playfully, gently grabbing her right hand. "At this rate, I just might steal you from Reginald and make you mine," Charles teased, his voice low and flirtatious as he pulled Freda’s hand to his lips, planting a soft, lingering kiss on her knuckles.

Freda giggled, a blush tinting her cheeks as she rolled her eyes. "You’re such a menace," she said with a smirk. "Now quit dodging the question and tell me why did you zone out like that? What’s really going on?"

Charles parted his lips, ready to weave a charming lie for Freda, when his eyes caught sight of Reginald stepping into the building.

He was carrying an armful of neatly wrapped gifts, his expression calm as he walked straight toward the growing pile of presents beside Mr. Edison.

Charles’s heart skipped.

"Freda," Charles called, his voice low and rushed. "I... I think I have to go. Right now."

Freda blinked, startled. "What? Why?"

"I’ll explain everything on Monday, I promise. But for now, I seriously have to get out of here."

Freda swallowed hard and gave a small nod, choosing not to pressure Charles any further. "Umm... okay. Let’s talk on the phone when you get home, alright?" she murmured, her voice soft with concern.

Charles gave her a brief nod, his chest tightening as he turned away.

With hurried steps, he began making his way toward the exit, but just as his hand reached for the exit door of the room, a familiar voice sliced through the air like a blade.

"Charles!"

Ever so slowly, Charles turned around to meet the gaze of Reginald.

"Hey," Charles purred, forcing a smile as he nervously waved at Reginald, his throat tightening with each step the man took closer.

Charles swallowed hard, trying to steady his breath.

Reginald, caught slightly off guard, returned a faint smile. "Umm... did Freda tell you she’d be here tonight?"

Charles quickly shook his head, eyes darting briefly toward the room. "No, she didn’t."

"Ohh..." Reginald drawled, his gaze drifting over Charles’s frame, taking in the apron tied around his waist. "So... you’re here to work?" He questioned, his voice was calm, but the curiosity behind it was unmistakable.

Charles let out a quiet sigh as he nodded. "Yeah," he whispered, barely meeting Reginald’s eyes. "And umm... I have to get going, so please don’t... don’t tell Augustine you saw me here. He’d be pissed."

Reginald arched a brow but didn’t question further. "Got it," he said simply, watching as Charles turned on his heels and hurried off with urgency in every step.

Soon, Charles was out of Reginald’s sight, having slipped through the towering doors of Mr. Edison’s mansion.

Charles stood at the edge of the road, the cool night air brushing against his skin.

’I need to get this damn apron off before someone else I know lays eyes on me,’ Charles muttered inwardly, nervously slamming his feet on the floor.

Swiftly, Charles’s hands moved to the back of his apron, fumbling to loosen the apron’s robe around his waist.

Just as he tugged at the knot, a sleek black Mercedes Benz glided to a smooth stop right in front of him.

’If this was a black Ford, I’d probably be wetting my pants by now,’ Charles joked silently, fingers now wrestling with the apron strap around his neck.

For a few moments, the car remained unmoving, its sleek frame casting a faint reflection under the streetlights.

With its heavily tinted windows, Charles couldn’t make out a single detail of the person or people

inside.

’I just know it can’t be Augustine’s car,’ he thought, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. ’I’ve never seen him in anything like this before.’

’And dammit! I should’ve done some reserch on the person I was meant to work for... following Reuben without knowing whose house I was headed to was so stupid’ Charles spat, scolding himself bitterly.

Suddenly, the car door swung open.

To Charles dismay, who was seated at the passenger seat of the car was Mrs. Wales and Augustine wales.

’I’m... I’m doomed.’ Charles panicked.