𝟎𝟏𝟑.

Start from the beginning

"Where are we going?" She looked up at him.

"It's a surprise." He simply winks down at her, Estella wanting to engage in defeat but chose to stay quiet and wondrous. Harry guided her straight to an elevator, Estella keeping her cool because she absolutely despised the idea of elevators. They made her sick to her stomach.

"If you're about to do something illegal, leave me out of it." She commented with a nervous laugh, closing her eyes until the elevator stopped.

"Nothing illegal." He grinned. Once the door opened, Estella only opened one eye, peeking to see where they were. When she fully expanded her eyes, she smiled in amazement, realizing that they were on top of the roof, pretty lights hanging up, tables scattered around the area, not entirely but enough for people to be able to walk around. Soft music had been playing and she noticed that a few chef's had been preparing dishes for the upcoming event.

"Harry! You took us to the after party?!"

"Well, technically it doesn't start for another 2 hours. So I figured, since you are claustrophobic, we could have a little party of our own before the arrivals." He smiled.

Estella endearingly smiled up at him, Harry grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the awaiting empty table for them to sit at. Harry simply guided her, pulling out her seat and letting her sit down at the glass table with unique centerpieces and candles. She thanked him of course before he told her he would be right back. Estella was too busy typing on her phone to realize he walked away and was now having a chat with the chef's, moving his face back when their skillets literally went up in flames, surprised that they hadn't been fazed by it at all.

"After party doesn't start until 10." One of the chef's had spoken, not daring to look up, eyes focused on the silver knife in his hand as he furiously chopped up potatoes and tossed them into the steaming pot.

"Yeah, I know. But me and my girlfriend are going to have an early party. You know, just for ourselves?" Harry simply explained, focusing on his movements.

"Can't do it for free buddy. I get paid to do this."

"You never let me finish explaining myself," Harry chuckled, retrieving a stack of money from his back pocket, long fingers removing the secure clip. And as if the chef had immediately smelt money, he knocked his head up and to Harry' direction. "How much will it take?"

"Depends on what you need me to do."

"All you gotta do is prepare two of three courses. You're a chef, you know how that goes. Whatever you're serving later, serve it now. As for music, you can get your little band over there to play something classical. Not upbeat. It's an after party, make it seem fancy. As if you were taking your own woman out on a date."

"I'm gay," The man says, making Harry purse his lips. "And married."

"I didn't ask for a life story but congratulations."

The man sighs, still contemplating and Harry grows increasingly impatient. "Okay, see that stunning woman sitting at the table? She means alot to me, meaning that I want to give her the best of best and prove to her that I am worthy of holding a perfect relationship. Making her smile and laugh as she talks about various things is the only thing I'm aiming for tonight. So would you please do me the honor of helping me make that goal come true?"

"Alright," The chef sighs. "I want 90."

"90?" Harry grins, handing it to him without care. "That's nothing. Thought you were gonna ask for more-"

"Hey, don't make me go above asked limit." He warned.

"Fine. Thanks, man." Harry winks before slowly backing away, giving him thumbs up and swiftly turning around, fixing his blazer and running a hand through his appealing curls.

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