Styles & Co.

Chapter Eight.

By now I should be used to the empty beds, the crisp sheets, and the company of my own character; to my bitter disbelief with every quiet tone the Bungalow offers I find myself craving the warmth of the coverings and the body that tends to be beside me when he finally gives in and forces himself to sleep. My hand glides across the white sheet hanging over the side of the bed as I do my best to decide on an outfit to wear to meet Harry's client while all the instructions Harry prompted me with runs through my mind, compiled with all the things I should and shouldn't say. I was given the lovely news earlier that my reasons for not flying back with Harry were correct, he isn't able to come back, he is far too busy, once again. I can't deny the fact that it is incredibly irritating, but I am not surprised.

I glance down at my phone and re-read our messages.

***

"I am too busy to fly back, come home and we can plan a proper trip somewhere else when I have time off. X CEO. Styles & Co - Harry."

"You never have time off. I will fly back when my vacation is over."

"I need you home with that pretty little envelope.
CEO. Styles & Co - Harry"

"That is all you want? That damn envelope? NO, HARRY!"

"NO, HARRY? I don't believe that is in my vocabulary, darling. C'mon, I also want your pretty little ass home, I miss you. 

CEO. Styles & Co - Harry"

"We don't always get want we want, I am trying to get ready to meet your client, any last minute requests?"

"Yes, I request that you board the flight I booked for you after you get the file from the client. I love you. X
CEO. Styles & Co. - Harry"

"NO! I have a beach and a margarita waiting for me."

"See you after your flight, darlin.

CEO. Styles & Co. - Harry"

***

Business is business, I accepted that once he became successful in the world of business. He gave me the option to opt out of our relationship and I didn't take his offer, I knew what I was getting into when we first started to get serious with each other.

My fingers swiftly wrap themselves around the chilled wine glass.

"to a lovely conversation." Harry's client, Charles Taylor, holds his glass up, cocking his head imperceptibly to the side as I flash him a dim smile. 

I carefully press the glass to my lips and indulge in the sweet taste of the white wine.

"Mr.Styles sends his apologies, he was needed in London and can't make it today." I begin the conversation, deciding that small talk and smiles is now over; I want to get the meeting over with so I can fly back to London.

"Yes, he did call me earlier." Charles nods with a slight grin, something tells me he is doing his best not to look too intimidating to me. For what reason, I do not know. "So, what funds are you offering me for my investment?" Charles places his wine glass on the table, asking a question that was not part of my script.