In Other Words (Niall Fanfic)

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Behind the scenes?” he asked. I nodded. “That’s not you.” He stated.

“I know.” I muttered.  I fed off of the energy of others. The idea of sitting in some office in front of a computer with no human interaction was basically my nightmare. But, I expected that the problems I had been having over the last few weeks would only multiply, and I needed to find a way to stay employed and at least somewhat satisfied with my workday. I extended my legs and tucked my feet under his thigh where they’d stay toasty.

“Okay, so, if you had to choose another career, what would it be?” he said. “Off the top of your head.”

“Popstar seems pretty cush.” I smiled.

“Okay, second choice, then.” He said. “You’re getting a little too old to break into the music scene. Plus, I’ve heard you in the car and in the shower…”

“Rude.” I swatted at him, but he was too far away and the back of my hand met only the leather of the sofa cushion. “Okay, fine. But you better not laugh.” He waited and sipped on what I would argue shouldn’t even be called coffee. “I always wanted to own a really cool restaurant. Or a bar. Something intimate, but with a good vibe.”

“Why would I laugh about that?” he said.

“I don’t know. It would be a lot of work.” I said quickly. “Anyway, can we change the subject now? I caught up with Maura last week. We worked out all of the final details for your birthday event. The press release should be going out soon.”  She really was a very sweet woman, and so proud of her sons. I think she’s started to warm up to me. Not that she was cold to begin with, but she was understandably a little protective.

“She emailed me.” he said, rubbing my calves.  “Everything looked really awesome. We’ve never been this organized. I think this year will have the best turn-out.”

“Only a couple of weeks until the big day.” I reminded him.

“I know. Twenty-two. I’m getting so old.”  He looked at me, waiting for another swat. I didn’t oblige.  “That reminds me. I need to check the post.” He hopped up off the couch.

“I emptied the mailbox yesterday. It’s all in a pile on the table.” I pointed. He sifted through the letters quickly before pulling one white envelope and tossing it over onto my lap. “What’s this?”

“It’s for you.” He said.  I set my mug down on the table and ran my finger along the sealed seam. “It’s addressed to you.” I said. I pulled out the heavy paper and unfolded it. The watermark read THIS IS NOT A CHECK, but my name was listed, along with a large dollar amount.  My eyes scanned the document again. “Niall?”

“For your services.” He explained.  “I wasn’t sure of what your hourly rate is, but I’m hoping that’s about right.”

“Services?”

“Planning my fundraiser.”

“Niall, I’m not taking any money for that…” I started, tucking the paper back into the envelope.

“Of course you are. You’re a professional, not a volunteer. You put a lot of time and effort into it, and now you’ve been compensated.”

“I..”

“I don’t want to hear another thing about it. The money’s already been deposited.” He smiled. “But now I’m a little light on cash, so you’ll have to pick up the tab next time we go out.” He leaned down and kissed me, the first time our lips had met in three weeks. “I’m going to have a shower.” He declared. “We’re gonna fool around a bit when I’m out.”

Who could argue with him then?

Niall’s POV

I flicked the lever at the side of the seat, moving it back away from the wheel just a bit. Roxy wasn’t much shorter than me, but for some reason, she liked to hug the wheel when she drove. Thankfully, she didn’t fuck around with my mirrors. I glanced at the clock, and quickly put the key in the ignition. I was going to be cutting it close. 

“Here you go, mate.” I said, returning to the bedroom with the fresh set of sheets I’d found in the linen closet. The room echoed with emptiness, only a bed and suitcase for now.

“Awesome.” He said, shaking the fitted one free of its folds and tucking it around the mattress. “Thanks.”

“You’re all set then?” I said. He looked around for a moment before slapping his hands against his thighs nervously.

“Yeah. I think I’m good, man.”

“Good.  We’ll see you around eight.” I approached him awkwardly, not knowing if a hug or a handshake was appropriate. His shoulders widened, signaling he was going in for the former. I slapped my hands against his back twice. “I’m glad you’re here.”