Styles & Co.

Chapter Four

"I think it is," she shakes her head.

"Let me know how it goes," I instruct, getting back to my work as she gets off my desk and leaves.

I press my elbows to my desk, undesirous of being trapped in the office space. Unlike Harry, I don't have a capital window with an aesthetic city view. Sometimes I envy him. Darling office views are a spectacular thing— in my sentiment, so sedative, breathtaking, and a reminder of what lies below.

It's ten in the morning, and I still haven't had a coffee. How I am functioning, I do not know.

My phone takes my concentration, and I glance down at it.

✾ ✾ ✾

"Hope you're feeling better. Where are you? You're not at the house, I'm disappointed. X CEO. Styles.& Co -Harry."

"I feel better. I'm at work; you'll get over your disappointment. Fancy bringing me a coffee? I'll make it worth your while. ;)"

"Are you initiating to seduce me at your workplace? Elise, that is unprofessional. CEO. Styles.& Co -Harry"

"Take it or leave it, Styles. I'm surprised 'unprofessional' is in your vocabulary. Gotta work now. Xx"

✾ ✾ ✾

"You're not good at following instructions, are you?" Harry's voice disturbs me from my assigned work, and my eyes dart to him as he stands in my doorway.

What a charming surprising event.

"Hello, Harry." I greet, and he steps in, wearing his suit pants and jet black button-down.

Holy hell.

"All black, nice." I grin, appreciating how well-featured he views in all black.

If I weren't such a modest and somewhat angelic person, I'd tell him to take me under the table.

 Oh, how I hold in detestation, yet cherish when he's in all black, so bloody alluring.

"Yes, why are you here?" He lowers his eyes on me, coming closer to my desk, disrupting me from my fixed stare.

"I work here. Why are you here?" I tilt my head, unsure of why he is in my office without warning.

He leans down and kisses my cheek, "I'm having a discussion with your boss, and I got coffee." He announces, holding up a cup of coffee, placing it on my desk, "I thought we agreed on you staying home?" He proceeds, his eyes staring down at me while my eyes gaze up, admiring his intensely black accoutre.

If only I could undo those buttons.

"You agreed on that, actually. I'm fine." I shake my head, emphasising who was the one who agreed on me ostensibly staying home. I never adhered to his instructions. 

My hand reaches for the coffee, the warmth radiating at a moment's notice.

Ah, freshly brewed coffee, hand-delivered by the finest man. "Thank you for the coffee," I smile up at him.

"It was a mutual agreement." He shakes his head, "and you weren't fine this morning at three A.M throwing up." He makes me remember my early morning tragedy, oh how I don't want to even think about how my morning started.

"I'm fine now. Why are you talking to my boss?" I softly interrogate, pressing the coffee cup to my lips, the coffee tasting exceptional, just the right amount of sugar and a touch of vanilla. Perfect.