Isabella
In an attempt to not have to dress up all fancy for once in the presence of Harry, I tried to suggest going to this really casual place for dinner and a show. The diner in Times Square where the waiters all sing broadway songs and dance on the table seemed like the perfect place to escape real conversation.
Harry shot that idea down pretty quickly, citing that he already was planning on making me dinner at the apartment. Something to fall back on if I decided that I didn't want to pick where we would go out. He also said he's allergic to tourists, which I should point out is my line when I try to make excuses about why I hate Midtown.
After extensively googling what people do when they're not going to dinner together, I settled on painting ceramics. It was casual enough where I didn't have to buy a whole new wardrobe just to see him, and it requires little to no talking. Whenever Kat and I go to Color Me Mine we barely say two words to each other. Harry is none the wiser either. He just thinks it'll be fun to try out something new.
In a surprising twist of events, I got to the place first. It probably helps that the store is downtown. Waiting outside, I check the time again, hoping that I didn't get it wrong. Whenever I'm early I get nervous that it's either the wrong day or that I just missed something entirely.
I know that I'm in the clear when a familiar black car rounds the corner and pulls up to the curb. Harry even looks surprised when he gets out of the car and sees me waiting outside. His brows raise as he fixes his coat. Someone didn't get the dress down memo.
"Do my eyes deceive me?"
"Unfortunately not. I was in the area, needed to make a return so I guess that helped me get here on time." I smile softly when he comes to greet me, kissing my cheek with a hand on my waist.
"I'm impressed. Whatever the reason, I think being on time deserves a reward." He turns to wave back at Cole to let him know he can leave for now before facing me again.
"I always deserve a reward." I smirk, letting him lead the way inside.
Once we're inside and the employees tell us how Color Me Mine works, a speech I've heard far too many times in my life, we're left to our own devices to pick out what we should paint. As always, I gravitate toward household items like dishes and mugs and vases. Most of the dishes in Kat and I's apartment are one of a kind, Color Me Mine masterpieces.
Harry looks lost as he looks at all the options. I'll admit, there are a lot. Especially since the Christmas items seem to be options. I guess that makes sense since it's like two weeks away.
He walks over with a slight pout, "I didn't expect there to be so much decision making when it came to this activity."
I can't help but laugh. "It's fun. Just let your creativity run wild"
Then again, this man is a creature of habit. He loves routine and sticking to a set way of doing things. I'm not too sure creativity is his specialty. Did I finally find the one thing he's bad at? Did I crack Harry Styles?
"What are you thinking of doing?" He asks, peering over my shoulder with a curious look in his eyes.
"Probably a plate. I love painting plates." I purse my lips as I decide which plate I want to work on.
"How about this?" He asks, getting my attention. "Let's make each other something. Keep it interesting."
A small smile tugs at the corner of my lip, "Is this your way of getting out of making yourself something?" I tease, earning a smirk in response.
"Perhaps. But seriously, I think it would be fun! What do you say?"
With an exaggerated sigh, I nod. "Alright. But I'm still painting a plate."
"Fair, fair. Go ahead and get started, I'll meet you over there."
Harry joins me at the table a few minutes later with a mug in hand as I figure out what I'm going to paint. Maybe a plate was a bad idea since I remember all his plates at his apartment are fancy plain white ones. Is it cheating if I make something for Ottilie? I think he would like that...
Picking out some more Christmas themed colors, I take a pencil and work out a rough draft of where I want everything to go. Growing up, I had a special plate for Santa's cookies that I always loved. I still have it, even though I don't use it for its intended purpose anymore. I'm sure Ottie would enjoy having a special plate for Santa, and since Harry is Santa, it's technically a gift for him.
He spends a lot of time staring at the color options, clearly unable to figure out what he wants to do. It feels almost wrong to see him so confused. Usually he's assured, confident, after all he's the boss. I guess I never realized how safe he plays things. Always wearing something more formal or business-y, even to a place as casual as Color Me Mine. Never straying from his weekly routines until today, a day where he doesn't have a reason to go into the office.
I'm curious to see how this time off will affect him. There's no doubt in my mind he'll be itching to go back in or check his work emails. He's a workaholic.
Finally, he puts the little tile down. "Just out of pure curiosity, what are your favorite colors?" He has a sly smile on his face, figuring he found a loophole out of making a creative decision.
"Harry, might this have anything to do with the colors you're planning on picking?"
"Well, I didn't say that. But would it be a crime for me to want to paint you something you'd enjoy?"
With a smile, I shake my head. "You know I'd like it no matter what it looks like. Just trust your gut."
He scrunches his nose up, pretending to be upset that I won't tell him what colors to paint the mug. It makes me giggle, which brings back his smile. He has a nice smile. A little crooked but undoubtedly handsome.
He settles for a color palette of shades of blue.
We're quiet as we begin to paint our ceramics, hyper focused on the task at hand. Painting pottery is always a tedious task, both relaxing and stressful all at the same time.
It's funny seeing Harry in a place like this. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows so his shirt doesn't get ruined, his tongue pokes slightly between his lips as he focuses. something Ottie seems to have learned from him.
I turn my focus back to the plate, not wanting to make a mistake. For once I feel in my element around him. We're not at some fancy place where we need manners or being hounded by asshole rich people. I like that things are normal for once.
"So, I'm assuming you come here a lot?" He asks once he's found his groove with painting. I do my best not to look at what he's doing so it can be some sort of surprise at the end.
I shrug, leaning back as I clean off my brush to use another color. "Yeah, often enough. Kat and I like to come here whenever we can and just decompress."
"So painting ceramics for you is like golf for me."
A small smile crosses my lips. "In a way. So I'm guessing you golf a lot then?"
"Every week. Sunday mornings I'm up at the crack of dawn to go golfing. Mel comes by for a couple hours and I go up to the country club. Even though I didn't get to go this last weekend."
I nod a bit, "What was going on if you don't mind me asking? I know you were really busy and I didn't want to bother you too much..."
He sighs. "Well you know Sapphire is involved in the live music space?" Once I nod, he continues. "Well, we were approached with this opportunity to acquire another big parent company in the industry. Now, instead of only being based in the United States and UK, we'll be completely international. It's the reason I moved back to New York. Our headquarters are here. Anyways, we were finalizing the deal and signing contracts and doing all the legal stuff. But it's finally all done and for the first time since Ottie was born, I get to have time off as a reward."
Now it makes sense why he's becoming a billionaire. "Oh. That sounds intense."
He chuckles a bit, "Very. But now everything is said and done and in a few weeks everything will be done and Sapphire will be one of the biggest parent companies in the live music space."
"And you will be a billionaire." The words come out before I can stop myself. Even he looks surprised when I mention his newfound financial status. "Sorry, I just... Kat googled you..."
He nods, a slight smirk on his lips. "I guess I will be. Are you looking to renegotiate your contract? Because I'm willing to accommodate."
I glare slightly at him. "No. But a heads up would've been a little appreciated. My friends were hounding me."
"I'll keep that in mind, but there's really nothing to brag about. I worked hard to get to where I am and of course I'm proud, but money isn't everything. It could all be gone tomorrow and as long as I have Ottie by my side, I'm more than happy."
It's strange to hear. Christian always put money before anyone else, especially above me. Most people in Harry's position would flaunt their wealth, even more so once they reached billionaire status. It's almost refreshing to hear that he's not obsessed with money.
"Why did you go through with the merger?"
He smiles a bit. "It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I had taken a backseat for a few years because I was raising Ottie and trying to be present for her. I had been meaning to get back into working full time but I needed something exciting to come along and this was it. And I'm glad that I did it because it brought us back to New York."
"Do you think now that it's over you'd move back to Europe? Now that your company is international..." My heart races at the thought.
"I don't know... There would be some things holding me back from leaving..." He bites his lip before looking back down at his work.
We're quiet again, focusing on our projects while his words linger in the air.
There are a lot of reasons he would be kept in New York. If Ottie starts school. Ottie's nanny is here. Ottie is making friends here.
I don't think I'd want him to go back.
Harry pays for the ceramics when we finish and I put my contact information down for when it's time to come get our finished projects next week. Cole is waiting outside for us in the car, ready to take us to Cornelia for the rest of our night.
Not much is said, nothing of substance at least. Harry ended up really enjoying the experience and is already planning on coming back with Ottilie. I know that little girl would love it there.
Up in the apartment, I get comfortable. Whenever I'm in the city for prolonged periods of time, I always take my pants off as soon as I get home. I don't know, there's just a dirty feeling associated with the city air sometimes and I get that aura more from my pants than anything. Maybe because my coat is a layer between city germs and my clothes.
Harry gets right to work making dinner, undoing his tie and opening the first few buttons of his shirt up. "I connected my spotify to the tv last time I was here if you wanna put on some music." He offers as he gets out the ingredients for dinner.
"Alright. What's for dinner?" I grab the remote as I plop myself down on the couch, navigating my way to spotify.
"I'm making a stir fry with chicken and veg on rice. If you want, you can either sit there looking all pretty on the couch or you could come help me cut up these vegetables."
I can't help but smirk. "Well I guess I shouldn't distract you with my beauty, don't want you getting a kitchen injury." I tease, getting up from the couch to help him.
The kitchen isn't very big, honestly it's not much bigger than my kitchen at home. It's a tight squeeze on the counter as I get to work chopping and Harry works on the chicken and sauce. He clearly has no experience cooking in a tiny kitchen either since he bumps into me every five seconds, subsequently apologizing every time.
Harry's playlist is eclectic, jumping from older slow songs to more modern indie hits with some rock ballads sprinkled in. He's surprised when I know a lot of the songs, teasing that I wasn't even born yet when a song came out. I guess two can play the age game.
It doesn't take long for the food to cook, but we still find time to play around and playfully dance to the songs that play. He's a horrible dancer.
He draws me into his arms with a laugh, looking down at me as I lean my head back with a giggle. His arm wraps lazily around my waist and his hand stays against my hip. He leans his forehead against mine, nudging his nose against mine as he whispers the words to the song that begins playing. Fly Me To The Moon.
My eyes close as I get lost in the moment, swaying along with him. My nose nudges against his, a light giggle falling from my lips.
"In other words, hold my hand... In other words, baby kiss me..." He sings, his voice almost inaudible by the end. I can feel his lips hovering over mine, but this time he clears his throat and pulls away, mumbling about how the food is going to burn.
I look away, finding my throat run dry at this almost kiss. I just have to remember that this contract is real. It was my idea not to kiss and he's respecting that boundary. Maybe he's more aware of my boundaries after I freaked out on him. Maybe he read up on the contract again as a reminder. It's probably a good idea for me to do the same.
As Harry plates our dinner, I take note of how heavy the rain falls outside. "It's a good thing we got here when we did. I wouldn't want to get caught up in that."
He glances over at the window, whistling lowly. "You're right about that. Now come on, dinner."
We sit together at the small circular table and Harry lowers the music so we can talk more. "When did you stop by to leave all these ingredients? Not that I'm complaining the food looks really fucking good."
"This morning. You weren't here, trust me I checked."
I hum with a smirk. "Couldn't even wait a couple hours?"
"Maybe I was looking for you to see if you wanted to get breakfast. Not everything is about sex." He chastises, but we both know that's a lie. Unless you count oral as breakfast.
"I think this entire reason we're in this apartment is for sex."
"And yet, we're eating dinner." He smirks, putting a forkful of food in his mouth.
After some more small talk and light teasing, I finally bring myself to have a real conversation. The conversation that's been looming in the air. It's hard to confront this, but I know I have to. I can't just avoid this forever.
Putting down my glass of water, I clear my throat, gaining his attention from across the small table. "So... the last time we were here..."
He nods, "The night of the gala. I remember."
Sometimes I hate that he's so much older than me since that usually means he's less timid about addressing issues. It only makes my anxiety about approaching the situation worse. "Yeah, that's the one. Um... Look, I just wanted to apologize... I didn't mean for the night to end the way it did..."
He presses his lips together, nodding. "I understand. And I don't hold anything against you, really. I crossed a line-"
"But you didn't. Look, I started a conversation that night and you were only trying to continue it. I just wanted to apologize."
He nods, leaning back in his chair. "Well, I accept your apology. And I apologize too, for making you uncomfortable."
I didn't expect him to be so understanding. Usually Christian would yell and make me apologize over and over again, making me feel like some evil person. He would never accept my apology, let alone apologize back. Either that or we would avoid talking and let the issue grow until it exploded. I hated when he would explode.
"So... We're good?" I ask, just waiting for him to let it all out on me. Maybe he's waiting until we're in bed to really teach me a lesson.
But he just nods with a smile, reaching for his glass of water. "We're good. Why wouldn't we be?"
My brows furrow for a second but I try to play it off, "I was just making sure..." Instead of letting the conversation continue, I shove more food in my mouth, trying to move on. While we finish dinner, I repeat the same sentence in my head.
Harry is not Christian.
Harry is not Christian.
Harry is not Christian.
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i missed harry. so double update. gotta keep you all on your toes.
gab