Crash Love (A Niall Horan Fanfic)

Chapter Thirteen

"Yikes! It's FREEZING in here!" Niall complained as he walked in, shivering in his cotton t-shirt. "Can you guys chill it with the air-conditioning? It's like, winter!"

His comment was responded by chilly looks by the smartly-dressed team of men and women sitting across us.

All of us were hardly wearing proper clothes for the brutal attack the air-conditioning unleashed on us. Liam had his leather jacket with him and grinned proudly as he slipped it on and all of us scowled at him unhappily. "Not my fault you guys forgot it's like 5 degrees back home," he snorted. "We're clearly not in Jamaica anymore." 

"Shut up Liam. Don't rub it in or you won't have that jacket anymore," Zayn snapped. 

"Simon's LATE," one of the ladies dressed in a smart navy suit with her hair tied back painfully tight in a neat bun snapped. "I swear, you can't rely on that man for ANYthing!"

Simon's coming too?? 

I raised an eyebrow at Liam as we stood around awkwardly, not quite sure if we should sit. Are we in trouble? I could tell all the lads were thinking the exact same thing by their troubled looks. Liam looked the most worried. I racked my brain, trying to think of a reason for us to even be here in the first place. We didn't do anything disasterous like blast up Kingston or something so why did Management felt the need to rush us home in private jets and high-speed Bentleys?

One of the only people I knew in the room was Carla, the new incredibly shy intern who spoke in a whispery stutter and brought everyone coffee. She was fairly nice, a bit too shy of course. Kind of pretty, with brown hair and brown eyes to match. She was one of the only ones in the entire team to laugh at our antics and not take it too seriously. Like that time I accidentally threw a water balloon at Niall who ducked and it hit a pile of papers. Apparently, one of those were some 'important' contract and we had a big lecture the next day about 'proper office etiquette' and 'responsibility' and some other boring stuff.

She actually was pretty young, about twenty. She was apparently some smart ass but what I fail to comprehend is why some high-flying Harvard graduate would want to work for a showbiz management team at pretty much no pay when she could've got some other great pay job. Maybe the economy was really declining. 

I actually liked her. Even though she was shy, she loved to have a chat and she was a great listener too. I think she's really funny.

"Coffee?" she whispers at me.

"That would be lovely," I said, flashing her a grin which I knew would instantly make her blush. "Two sugars, lots of milk."

"I know," she whispers back as she turns to Zayn. "Coffee?"

He shook his head as he returned to his phone. The rest of the lads turned down the offer by Carla and the tension in the room was enough to blow you backwards if my back wasn't already leaning against the wall. Liam took a deliberate step forward and pulled out a chair. All of us eyed him skeptically. I have to admit, the lad had guts! He sat down quietly, the people across the table hardly batting an eyelid as they discussed some important stuff and shared files. 

I glanced at the other lads, daring them to copy Liam's move.

Paul appeared. "SIT, boys!" he cried frustratedly, the way you would after you explained how rounding off worked for the hundredth time to a primary school child.  

Paul didn't usually stay at meetings. He usually stayed outside, discussing god-knows-what with the boring people dressed in suits and making sure no crazed fans slipped in. We all sat quietly, except for Niall, who managed to make the chair scratch loudly across the wood floors. All of us shot him looks as one of the boring execs shot Niall a glare.