Prince and the Pauper

Chapter Four

The intoxicating aroma of vanilla invaded my senses the minute I entered the glass building. Harry clearly used to the building,  powered ahead with long strides, I on the other hand, stopped three feet into the giant foyer. White tiled floors, glass windows so clean you would wonder if there was glass there at all.White walls stretched to the elevators, and black leather furniture to give your eyes a break from the pure white surroundings. The foyer was beyond huge, unnecessarily so in fact. Probably three times the size of my whole apartment. The receptionist area stretched out along the far wall, divided into three desks, where three different receptionists sat on office chairs on the phones. All of them young, beautiful woman of course. Blondes with their hair pinned up in French twists. The scene almost looked comical it was so cliché. I let out an un-easy breath, and feeling self conscious from the glares of business men powering by made me glance down at my clothes. Tattered jeans and white t-shirt, paired with a plaid red and black shirt apparently wasn't acceptable.
"Devonne." I snapped my head upwards to see Harry had stopped, and now stood directly before me shooting me a reassuring smile.
"This isn't my type of crowd." I mumbled, gesturing to my ripped clothing and then the luxurious room we stood in. Harry's smile tilted to the right and he leaned in to me, dropping his voice to a whisper.
"It's not mine either." I gave him a skeptical look and he laughed lightly.
"Follow me and you'll see what I mean." He started for the elevator again and this time I followed, keen to get out of sight from one of the receptionist's giving me the more-than-once over. As we reached the elevator and I stood next to Harry, my eyes shot back to one of the blonde receptionists, and as the doors slid closed I flipped the birdy, accompanied my a smug smile, before the doors closed on us. Harry stifled a laugh behind his fist and shook his head. Harry pressed for level four and there was a soft hum before I felt the elevator move upwards. Cheerful music played through the speakers in the elevator and I groaned in disapproval at the tacky choice.
"Seriously?" I slumped into the corner.
"Music puts people in good moods. Good moods make great sales. Its simple strategy, Devonne." His eyes met mine with a dangerous spark behind those pools of green. His gaze proved too much for me so I made a sound of distaste and looked down at the floor, but I could still sense his eyes on me, making me more than uncomfortable . Relief washed through me when the elevator doors slid open with a jingle signalling it was safe to exit. I paused expecting Harry to exit first, given chivalry and manners always seemed lacking in wealthy people. Instead, Harry stretched out his arm and flicked his head to the door signalling he was letting me go first.
"Ladies first." He smiled, the beauty behind it making my mouth run dry. Despite my distaste for him, a small, approving smile spread to my lips as I stepped through the doors and into a wide, and long corridor. I felt his shoulder brush mine as he stepped out and stood right next to me, pointing to the very end of the long corridor. "That far door is my office." My eyes roamed the corridor as we walked down the empty hall, silence filling the air amongst us.
"How come this level is so empty when the foyer was buzzing?" I asked. I noted the change in appearance as well. Instead of copious amounts of white, the floor was black carpeting, that stretched half way up the walls, and the rest of the walls were painted a deep, ruby red. Surprisingly I actually liked the design. It made the place seem a lot more relaxed, and less business-like.
"I told you I don't take part in the business industry my family does. As my line of work is different, my environment is different. Not many people come up here at all." Harry explained as we reached the end door.
"Then why all the doors?" Harry paused and shot me a bemused grin.
"I believe this job interview is for you, Devonne. Shouldn't I be the one asking all the questions?" At his words, my posture stiffened, and I folded my arms across my chest.
"Interview? I thought you already wanted to give me the job, and this is you trying to convince me to join." I countered, and Harry laughed softly, nodding his head in what I  interpreted as both agreement and approval.
"Alright, you win." He sighed dramatically. Although he had been joking, I still took the victory to heart, a smile reaching my lips. "The first door is the supplies room, paper, stationary, folders and such. All things one would require in the writing and publishing world really. The second and third doors are the male and female toilets, since it would be an annoyance to have to go to a different level just for a bathroom break. The fourth door is the library, and this door is my office." When Harry was done I let out a long whistle.
"And I thought my apartment was savvy because my couch folded out into a bed." I joked. I expected Harry to laugh, but instead a frown crossed his  features.
"You don't own a bed?" His tone showing his horror. I was puzzled at his question, and the reaction to it. What concern was it to him?
"Do you not listen?" I drawled slowly. "I do have a bed. You remove the sofa cushions and the bed folds out. It's quite clever really." I found myself getting defensive over something so small, but I still didn't want him scorning my life style.
"That's not  a real bed. That's..." Harry sounded mortified, and he shook his head.
"Harry, there are millions of people in third-world countries that don't have so much as a blanket to keep them warm at night. I may not be as wealthy as you, but I have a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and yes, a bed. That makes me blessed. I'm in no position to complain. Just because your family couldn't live my life, it doesn't make it impossible for me." I was breathless by the end of my rant, and Harry looked more than stunned at my little out-burst. Silence made the air between us tense and I found myself staring past Harry's shoulder avoiding eye contact.
"You're quite a remarkable woman, Miss Abel." His tone was gentle but the impact of his words was a punch in the stomach. It had been a compliment yet I couldn't accept it. Perhaps I had invested so much anger towards his family that I expected cruelty, and anything else was just the calm before the storm.
"No." I blurted out, shaking my head. Harry opened his mouth but I cut him off by speaking up first. " Library huh?" I changed the topic swiftly yet blatantly obviously too.
"Ah, yes." Harry decided to let my strange behavior slide. "Would you care to see it?"
"Yes." I gushed, Harry smirking at my enthusiasm. "Please?" I recovered, or attempted to at least. Harry walked to the large door and gave the sturdy door a push. I was hot on his heels entering behind him, and stopped in awe two steps in. The room was large despite the fact that not many people would use it. Beige walls made it seem homely, and a huge window opened up to let the sun shine lighting the room up naturally. Red couches sat facing one another with a wooden table in between, placed directly where the sun hit. Row after row of books filled the rest of the space and I didn't even know where to begin.
"So many books." I said breathlessly. "How..." I trailed off and wandered to one section. Fantasy. I sensed Harry's eyes on me as I dragged my fingers along the spines of all the books, scanning for ones I recognized.
"My grandfather ." Harry spoke up from behind me. "I get my love of literature from him. Before dad, or grandad's son, built our family business here, this was a library. A massive one, each level dedicated to an age demographic. However, my dad wasn't a fan of books. When he inherited his dads fortune and business he had the library transformed into Styles Enterprises. I was furious," I paused my browsing to peer over my shoulder and look at Harry, who was watching me intently. "I begged father not to destroy the building.  I was so close to my grandfather, our love of literature bonding us. Destroying the library was like..." his voice caught with vulnerability and I cursed myself for sympathizing with him.
"Would be like destroying your connection to your grandfather."  I concluded softly. Harry nodded and pointed to the red couch near the window.
"He used to read to me over  there." He said smiling softly over at the red couches. "I pleaded father not to destroy the library, but when my dad makes up his mind on something, it's set in stone.  He allowed me this one section of the building, but that was it." I found myself sympathising with Harry, a sad sort of smile gracing his lips. It was clear he was having flashbacks to moments with my grandfather, and reading together.
"You must have been furious." I mumbled, scuffing my shoes against the carpet, earning a brief nod from Harry.
"I was." Harry sighed, returning his vision to me. "But he is my father. I can't hold resentment to him forever." His words struck a chord with me, and my gaze must have hardened, and he clicked on, shaking his head.
"I personally can't over something small. You have every right to be angry at your parents, Devonne." He reasoned. I suddenly felt very small under Harry's penetrating gaze, and let my eyes drop to the soft carpet.
"How old were you when they left, if you don't mind me asking?" Harry questioned, his voice pulling my eyes back to his like magnets. We stared at one another for a moment, me not wanting to answer. But given he had opened up slightly about his grandfather, I thought it only fair.
"Nine when my mum left." I admitted. "Dad stuck around until I was fifteen." Harry's eyes softened with sympathy, and I resented him for it. I didn't want his pity, nor did I need it.
"You've been on your own since you were just fifteen?" He confirmed. "What about child services?"
"It's Ruddington." I scorned as if it were explanation enough.  "Plus they can only get involved if somebody informs them. I wasn't going to call for them to separate me and my brother." I sighed. "Anyway, I wasn't alone. I had Geordie. I've been alone since Dante put him in hospital."
"Well," Harry cleared his throat with un-ease. "Shall we sign the contracts and get onto discussing the duties your job requires?" He suggested. I huffed puffing out my cheeks, and shoved my hands inside my pockets before nodding.
"Great. Stay here a moment, and I'll get the paperwork." He gestured for the office door connected in the wall, and took off. I was left standing alone in the large room. My eyes scanned to room for a second time, it all being just as overwhelming to second time. I considered sitting on the couch, but given the story behind it made me think it might be sacred ground to Harry, and decided to roam the shelves. My feet instantly carried over to the fiction section. My fingers glided over the spines of all the books as I scanned them, until I recognized one and paused. I smiled to myself as I picked it up, admiring the good condition it was in. Perhaps Harry never read this one, it didn't seem like his type. "The Outsiders." I was startled to hear Harry's voice right behind me. I spun to see him smiling at me. "I love that one too. I always got hung up on the poem by Robert Frost."
"You read and liked this book?" I scoffed. Harry quirked a brow at me and crossed his arms over his chest.
"What, you think the wealthy can't appreciate good literature?" He countered, earning a snort of laughter from me.
"Pardon me, but I thought your spare time was conserved to counting your hundred dollar bills." That made Harry laugh, and it was a surprisingly cheerful sound. He looked so care free when he laughed, his long brown hair brushing his shoulders, making him appear younger and more relaxed.
"Let me guess," Harry's eyes were sparkling with amusement. "I am a Socs?" I grinned and pulled at the collar of my shirt.
"Well you're hardly a Greaser." I reasoned, and found myself smirking, the atmosphere being friendly, which caught me off guard. I was supposed to hate Harry, not be here laughing with him over books. "If I recall correctly, there was a romance between a Socs and Greaser." Harry's comment had my eyes widen comically, and I chocked on my breath. Harry's chest rumbled with laughter and I forced myself to recompose myself, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Well you don't recall correctly." I spat out eventually. "Not really. Besides, even if they did get together, which they didn't," I emphasised and Harry's smirk drew up towards the left more, "The girl was the posh-totty, and boy was the poor one. Different scenario."
"Oh, we're comparing our situations?" Harry teased. "I was merely jogging my memory of the book." His smile was wicked, and it worked me up in all the wrong ways. My hands curled up into fists, and slid my tongue between my teeth making a sound of dissatisfaction.
"You're a twat, I ever tell you that?" I snarled, Harry strolling over to the couch in the sun and plonking himself down. His long legs stretched out and he peered over at me, still laughing.
"Once or twice." His tone lowered slightly, yet his focus on me remained. I stood paralyzed in his gaze. After a moments of more-than-awkward silence Harry waved a thin stack of papers in the air and gestured to the couch facing his.
"So, you going to sign the dotted line?" I took a deep breath, trying to act like I was pondering the job position. Truthfully, I knew I was going to accept. I didn't have a choice and Harry knew that. My hand was being forced, but my damn pride wouldn't allow me to show it. Slowly, with a pace of hesitation and tease that had Harry's eyes lock on my frame, I crossed one leg after the other, making my body sway with each step, prolonging the  agreement. Harry's eyes greedily dropped to my hips watching as they moved, and I fought the victorious smirk pulling at the edges of my mouth. It was clear we were playing games with one another, trying to act like the superior being in this scenario, and at this current point, I was winning. As I sat down on the couch opposite him his eyes remained on the lower portion of my body and I clucked my tongue in disapproval.
"Which line are you looking at, Harold?" My words were of velvet, rolling off my tongue smoothly, and I knew Harry was a hairs breath away from letting out a growl of frustration.
"You like playing games, don't you miss Abel?" His husky voice questioned, and I smiled as I shrugged my shoulders.
"That's for me to know you for you to, dot, dot, dot." I leaned back into the comfy couch, and stretched my legs out onto the coffee table, not caring for my shoes being on the table that was no doubt genuine Mahogany.
"Noted." Harry mused quietly, his eyes daggering mine. "Games aside for now,he paused, his smile all but a promise, "you need this job to stay with your brother." I swallowed at his words, the moment becoming serious again. "I know you hate my family, Devonne, but hopefully you working for me will show you that I am more than my last name and blood line." Harry leaned forward and slid a piece of paper and pen onto the table before me.
"This lists your job requirements. Summed up you will do a lot of reading, proof reading and correcting typos mostly. Once the manuscripts are edited you forward them to me, where I decide if they are to be published or not."
"No coffee runs?" I asked seriously. Harry laughed again, and shook his head.
"I am not a boring old business man, Dev." He grinned. "If I were to send you out for anything it would be something high in carbs and an energy drink to keep me awake." This time I laughed. For some reason I didn't pick him as the messy food type. The thought of Harry rummaging through paper work whilst downing Monster or Red Bull was comedic to say the least.
"Had you pegged as a Caesar  salad boy." Harry rolled his eyes and scoffed.
"Stop dicking around and sign the paper, Devonne." His words caught my tongue and I glanced up at him with a shocked expression.
"What did you just call me?" I drawled slowly, and this time Harry leaned forward and smirked.
"Devonne. I  told you to stop dicking around." His dimpled smile made my nerves bundle up, and I picked up the pen. "Use your ears, love." His right eye dropped in a wink my facials darkened. "Douche." I muttered under my breath, but I did as he chuckled and leaned back watching as I signed my name.
"So your officially my work bitch." I gasped as his words and smacked his legs which were now spread out on the table before me. His laughter was infectious and I laughed as he waved his hands in the air dismissively.
"Kidding, kidding." He assured me, gathering up his copy of the contract I signed. "I think we'll have a good time working together." His eyes glistened and I made a sound of contemplation.
"I doubt that very much." I sighed, getting to my feet. "I feel like I just sold my soul or something."
"Not your soul, but you lost all your morals now that you're working for the enemy." Harry reasoned, his arm bumping mine. The simple contact made me flinch, and Harry noticed, his eyes scrutinizing the small jump I made.
"Do you really hate me?" Harry asked suddenly, his expression sobering up. I opened up my mouth to respond, but a sound at the door interrupted us, and we both froze in our movements.
"There you are! I was looking everywhere for you. You can't avoid me forever you know." We both spun, and my eyes locked with the man that made my blood boil. Those blue eyes looked like a void of any compassion before, just an angry glare, and my face naturally narrowed into a scowl.  When Harry spoke up, his tone held loathing, yet also pleading. As if knew trouble were about to break out between us.
"Dante."