Love Slow - h.s.

10. You Can't Tell Me What To Do

*Not Edited*

Stella Rose Wilder

Currently, I was sitting in the sewing room, working on sewing the sleeve to Harry's first suit jacket. A local radio station was playing from the speaker in the corner. I could see my employees through the glass wall, bustling around or sitting at their desks, all focused on their tasks, except one.

I huffed in frustration as I noticed, once again, Phoebe was seated at her desk texting on her phone while there were papers and mail in front of her, where her attention should be.

I decided to watch more intently for a couple of moments in an attempt to figure out what had bad going on with her lately. However, what I saw next made my eyes practically bulge in surprise before muttering to myself, "What the hell?"

Phoebe smiled widely as she looked up at the tall male who had just approached her desk. I saw her glance in my direction as she spoke to him. When she caught my eye, her expression changed and her turned to follow her line of sight.

I scowled, pausing my project before shoving my chair back and stalking over toward Phoebe's desk.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I practically growled, lowly.

"Now is that anyway to greet your ex-husband?" Luke smirked, arrogantly.

I rolled my eyes, grabbing this wrist and pulling him into my office before slamming the door behind me, giving us more privacy. "Seriously, Luke, why are you here? This couldn't have waited until tonight or have been done over the phone?"

"Oh, Stella, you're one to be angry right now?" He snarked, taking a seat on the chair in front of my desk.

"What?"

He scoffed, his eyes glancing away from me before returning to glare directly at me, "I woke up this morning to multiple articles being sent to me about how some pop star is supposedly taking my place as a father? What the hell is that, Stella?"

I froze, both of us intently glowering at one another.

I had seen the articles earlier after Harry and I's dinner with the kids a couple of days ago. I had never expected it would affect Luke like this, especially considering the fact that since the fish-and-chips incident, he's been practically M.I.A. in the kids' lives.

"What do you mean, 'what the hell is that?' Luke? I'm in a relationship with him. Of course, he's going to hang out with us and get close to them. And, you know, it wouldn't seem like he was replacing you, even though he isn't, if you would take time out of your oh-so-busy life of work and partying to actually spend time with your kids." I spewed, feeling as though steam should practically be coming out of my ears.

The fact that he had the audacity to take a shot at Harry for stepping up and taking on responsibilities that should be Luke's when he can't even take the time to take the kids to get dinner or pick them up from day care and school, makings me livid.

Luke stayed silent, avoiding eye contact with me as he crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes flitted anxiously around the room. "I don't want him with the kids anymore."

My face contorted out of anger, "What the fuck, Luke? He didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm their father, Stella! I don't want some other man doing the things I should be doing, just because we're divorced."

"Then maybe you should step up and offer to do things like take them to dinner or out to do fun things without me forcing you to. You don't have the right to come into my place of work and scream at me about our personal life and family when you haven't made an effort to see those kids in almost two weeks. You can't tell me what to do and you can't tell me not to let my boyfriend see my children."