CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER 49: BEHAVE, I’M IN A MEETING

The night grew darker.

Poppy Hale groggily sat up, eyes closed, trying to find her slippers.

Her feet brushed against a soft carpet.

She suddenly opened her eyes.

In her view was an unfamiliar bedroom.

Dark wooden floors, a gray cashmere carpet, a reading lamp on the bedside table dimly lit, but enough for Poppy Hale to clearly see the scene before her.

It wasn’t her bedroom.

The air conditioning breeze blew down, landing on Poppy Hale.

She was instantly wide awake.

The scene of her drinking appeared in her mind, and Poppy Hale’s toes couldn’t help but curl against the carpet.

She had actually drunk too much at Declan Hawthorne’s place and fell asleep.

Looking around, there was no one else in the room.

She breathed a slight sigh of relief.

The urge to pee hit her, and Poppy Hale carefully went to the bathroom.

There were few items in the bathroom: a few men’s skincare products, an electric shaver, and an electric toothbrush.

The counter was spotless.

After washing her hands, Poppy Hale splashed cold water on her face to wake herself up.

In fact, once she realized she had slept at Declan Hawthorne’s place, her sleepiness completely disappeared.

It was now three in the morning.

Leaving now would seem more like a cover-up.

She simply took out her equipment to start revising that sketch.

But as she flipped through the images on her phone album, Poppy Hale’s cheeks turned red up to her ears.

Her fingers could barely hold the phone.

What had she photographed!

She had unbuttoned Declan Hawthorne’s shirt and taken many photos.

Because she was drunk and shaky, some of the pictures were even close-ups of certain areas.

So embarrassing.

Most of the photos didn’t show Declan Hawthorne’s face.

Poppy Hale didn’t know what his expression was at that time.

Probably, it was impatient.

Every time she asked him to be a reference model for her, he always had that expression.

Poppy Hale pushed the thoughts out of her mind.

With those few photos of Declan Hawthorne as a reference, inspiration for the drawing flowed abundantly, and she quickly finished it.

Poppy Hale altered another sketch of a formal-attired kneeling figure with an unbuttoned shirt.

After finishing and checking, she was quite satisfied.

She hurriedly finished the modifications and sent the sketch.

The recipient replied instantly.

Thinking that Finn Young was still sketching at this hour, feeling very moved.

After receiving the sketch, they were extremely satisfied and showered her with compliments.

The sketch was finally approved, and along with the previous one, they could proceed to coloring and final touches.

After finishing the sketches, it was already four-thirty in the morning.

Poppy Hale was quite fast, but once she started, she had an obsession with perfection.

This often led many clients to think that her drafts were the final version.

Stretching lazily as she stood up, Poppy Hale rubbed her neck, and sent a message to Mrs. Hale.

Mrs. Hale always had her WeChat notifications on silent, so as not to disturb her sleep.

If she continued to sleep here, Poppy Hale wouldn’t be able to sleep.

She simply tidied up the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles on the sheets to create the illusion that no one had slept there.

She gently opened the door.

After taking a few steps, she saw another room with the light still on.

The light shone out from the room, with a cold hue, particularly bright.

In the study, a man was staring at the computer screen, wearing loungewear, his fingers tapping randomly on the desk, his gaze cold.

Ashtrays piled with cigarette butts were by Declan Hawthorne’s side.

The room was filled with the smell of tobacco, but the ventilation system made it not unpleasant.

The coffee next to his other hand was almost finished.

At this hour, he was still working?

It seems being a group president isn’t easy.

Poppy Hale knew that Declan Hawthorne had always been a very diligent person.

Calling him a genius would only belittle the effort he put in.

During school, he tackled complex and difficult problems with ease, which was talent.

But even geniuses need to complete piles of exercises to accumulate experience.

Declan Hawthorne’s ability to win awards in competitions time after time, Poppy Hale knew, was the result of his hard work.

There were many times when they stayed in hotels, he would be studying.

Poppy Hale would draw.

That time could be considered the most harmonious period in their relationship.

Poppy Hale wasn’t the clingy type, but being with Declan Hawthorne, she always wanted to be with him all the time.

Previously, there were many times she’d wake up from sleep.

He was still studying, working.

In a daze, she met Declan Hawthorne’s gaze.

She was carrying her bag, clearly intending to sneak out.

As if staying at his place for one more minute would make her uneasy.

Declan Hawthorne frowned, his mood somewhat grim.

"Where are you going?"

"...I accidentally fell asleep last night, sorry for disturbing President Hawthorne, I’ll leave now."

Declan Hawthorne paused, frowning, "At this hour, where are you going? To compete with beggars for a spot under the bridge?"

At this hour, getting a hotel room would be a waste.

There were still a few hours until work.

And no public transport was available.

Given Declan Hawthorne’s understanding of Poppy Hale now, she’d probably head to a 24-hour convenience store after leaving, buy something, and wait for work.

Declan Hawthorne guessed correctly.

Poppy Hale, having her intentions seen through, pinched the edge of her bag, softly saying, "I, my husband would worry about me."

The more she spoke, the less confidence she had.

Declan Hawthorne let out a cold laugh.

That laugh was particularly clear in the early morning study, both of them heard it distinctly.

"Go to sleep."

Poppy Hale didn’t move.

Declan Hawthorne looked up at her, his prominent brow slightly raised, even though he sat and she stood, it made Poppy Hale feel somewhat overshadowed.

"If you can’t sleep, then work. There’s a meeting today about that project you’re handling."

That project indeed had many areas Poppy Hale hadn’t perfected.

But working overtime here also didn’t seem like the right choice.

"I didn’t bring my computer."

Initially, she thought she’d take a few photos and leave.

She didn’t expect to be working overtime here in the middle of the night.

Declan Hawthorne turned one of the screens, tapped the connection port, "You have a USB, right."

After half a second pause, he added, "Consider it overtime pay."

Poppy Hale did grumble inwardly, with Declan Hawthorne as her boss, making her work overtime at his place at this hour.

Sure enough, all capitalists were exploitative.

But if there’s overtime pay, it’s negotiable.

"Okay."

Agreeing to overtime presented a new problem.

It’s fine using this computer, but the problem is, she’d have to sit next to Declan Hawthorne.

It made her uncomfortably close to him.

Poppy Hale looked at the chair, pondering how to drag it so she could see the screen without sitting too close to Declan Hawthorne.

The man said blandly, "What? Not satisfied sitting here?"

He looked at her, a playful light in his eyes, grabbing Poppy Hale’s slender wrist, pulling her onto his lap.

Sitting on Declan Hawthorne’s lap.

The position was a bit precarious, and all the thoughts in Poppy Hale’s mind went blank, buzzing, with the sound of tinnitus amplifying.

Poppy Hale struggled to get up but was stopped by Declan Hawthorne holding her waist.

He might work hard, but he’s not reckless.

Working at this hour, of course, meant he was preparing for an international meeting.

He tapped on the earbud in his ear.

The man spoke softly, "Be good, I’m in a meeting."