Hired Love [LARRY STYLINSON]

Hired Love [LARRY STYLINSON AU]

A/N um the Eleanor POV is temporary for the first one or two chapters after this okay okay enjoy

*~*~*~Eleanor POV~*~*~*

I've finally figured it out. I don't think I can trust Louis anymore.

It started about a month ago. He went out with his friends for the the first time since we were married, four years ago. I figured he hasn't had much fun since the honeymoon that wasn't with me, so I let him go. When he returned at about three am, he was "piss drunk" and kept mumbling about some guy named Brandon all night. I didn't believe he was drunk for five minutes. After that we stopped having sex or doing anything sexual in general. Maybe an occasional peck on the lips but that didn't even last. I don't even remember the last time he said he loved me.

I've come to the conclusion that Louis is at least bisexual, now all I need is a plan to see of he's trustworthy.

I sat on "our" bed (which he never sleeps in so it's pretty much mine) and tried to think up a plan. Suddenly I got one.

I whipped out my cell phone and went through my contacts.

"Jaci, Janice, Jillian, John, Jonah," I listed under my breathe until I found what I was looking for.

I hit dial and put my phone to my ear.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hello?" Said a voice on the other end.

"Josh?" I said, hopeful.

"Oh, hey El." He said, "What did ya want?"

"Book me an appointment with your best male prostitute. One who would do anything I'd pay him to do, and one who is gay or at least bisexual. Oh, and make sure he's attractive." I say, plan falling into place.

"Aren't you married, El?" Josh asked, suspiciously.

"Yes, you idiot." I said, annoyed. "I want to see if I can trust Louis."

"How would a male prostitute help?" He was still obviously confused.

"Well, I was thinking he could pose as some of the help. I'd leave Louis and him alone in our house, the prostitute would report to me if Lou tries anything. If he doesn't, I can trust him. If he does.." I paused not wanting to think that way.

"I think I might have one for you."

"Great." I said, relieved, "What's his name?"

"Harry. Harry Styles. He's 19. Good looking enough. He could act as a personal chef for your house for a week or so. He's trustworthy and good looking enough. We use him for our male clients. Meet him at the Starbucks on fifth tomorrow at noon. Don't be late." Josh said sternly.

"I wont. Thanks Josh. I owe you." I said, gratefully.

"The hell you do." He said, hanging up.

Perfect. Everything was working out perfect.