I can't seem to form words as I stare at Violet, her red lips settling into a smirk.
I finally swallow and nod, trying my best to smile. "H-hi," I stammer.
Her smirk widens as she walks past me, out of the office.
"Now, where were we?" Mr. Crystal asks.
I stare after Violet, completely befuddled by her sudden appearance.
"Rose?"
I shake my head. "I'm sorry."
"It's quite alright, you seem distracted. I must attend to this message anyhow, we can continue our conversation another time."
He has no idea how thankful I am for that. I need to speak to Harry, and soon.
"Thank you," I say. "Just let me know."
He nods and smiles and I exit the office, eyes sweeping the complex for Violet, but she is nowhere to be seen.
I need to get to Harry, quick. I've learned my lesson about not telling Harry things, and this is one damn important thing.
As I'm racing down the stairs to get back to our floor, someone grabs my wrist and jerks me to a halt.
"Going somewhere?"
I pull my wrist from Violet's grasp as her lips stretch into a smile.
"I...just back to work."
"In such a hurry?"
I swallow, my heart pumping fast from rushing down the stairs and Violet's tantalizing stare.
I look Violet over.
She stands with her arms crossed over her chest, her blond wavy hair tumbling down her back. If the internet was correct, she's been to rehab and back. What is she possibly doing in Portland?
"You know who I am, don't you?" She says.
I nod slowly.
She sighs. "Alright, if you've got a pen, I'll sign something for you, even though my agent told me to steer clear of fans."
I stare at her.
She looks at me expectantly.
"Wait...you think I'm a fan?" I suddenly remembered she was on a daytime soap opera. I almost laugh.
"How else would you know me?" She chuckles dryly.
"I know you as the girl that broke Harry's heart," I say without meaning to.
Her eyes snap to me. "Excuse me?"
I take a step back. "Harry Styles," I say. "He was in love with you and you left him."
"Of course I know who you're talking about," she snaps.
"Well, you weren't acting like it." I cross my arms over my chest, mirroring her stance. "And if you've come here to try to entice him again, you're going to have to go through me."
Violet stares at me.
And them she bursts into laughter.
I furrow my brow, watching her as her velvety laugh rings through the empty stairwell.
"Something funny?" I ask, my cheeks flushing pink.
"I didn't come here to get Harry back, if that's what you're implying," she says, her laughter dying down.
"Then why are you here?"
"I just got out of rehab for being a goddamn alcoholic, and my agent forced me to get a mainstream boring job," she says resentfully. "So, naturally, I come back to Crystal."
"Come back?"
"Oh, but didn't Harry tell you?" She smiles sarcastically. "Crystal was my step father for about two years, before my mother got divorced again.
"How many husbands has she had?"
"Seven, but that's not important," she says lightly and I widen my eyes at the high number. "Crystal gave me a job until I can stay sober enough to return to the show, and until then some other actress way less pretty than me is taking my place." She sniffs hauntingly.
A thought occurs me.
Violet could be the insider for Wolfe.
"How did you know Harry told me about you?" I ask.
"Since you're obviously his little girlfriend now, he must have told you," she says arrogantly. "I mean, I was his first love."
"What do you want from me?" I ask.
"What makes you think I want something?"
"Because you followed me here."
Violet tilts her head. "True."
I look at her expectantly. "Well?"
"I'm here to help you, actually."
I furrow my brow.
"I know your involvement with code Ivory," she says. "And I want to be part of the rebellion."
I stare at her. "You're part of Wolfe?"
"Unfortunately, yes. I'm the one that sent Alec to find Harry at that party after I left, so Harry could start making some damn money for once. I realize my mistake now, and you could say I'm in the same position as you."
"How do I know you're not the insider?"
She runs her tongue over her teeth. "So, you know about the insider too."
"How do you know all this?"
"I've been in Portland for a month now, and I've attended meetings at Wolfe. It's obvious that someone has been listening in here, but I can assure you, it's not me."
"If you've been in Portland for a month, how come there was a different secretary here only a few weeks ago?"
"Crystal has two secretaries, and we have different days that we work."
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"Why don't we ask Harry?"
I lock my jaw.
She stares at me, her ocean blue eyes challenging.
"Fine," I say. "Why don't we ask Harry."
She smirks at me and I text Harry to meet me in the stairwell as soon as possible.
Minutes later, we hear footsteps and Harry climbs up to the landing.
As soon as his gaze lands on Violet, his eyes widen and his skin pales.
Violet smirks.
I see memories flashing before his eyes and it hurts. I know Violet will always be with Harry in some way, I mean, as she said, she was his first love. He will always be wary of love because of her, and she will always have control over him. I see this now as I helplessly look on as he utters her name in disbelief.
"Nice to see you're doing well, Harry," she says to him.
"What are you doing here?" He asks.
Violet explains to him what she did to me, and I watch Harry's expressions carefully.
Next to Violet, I feel like nothing. She's so beautiful, and I know without a doubt I look like a lump of coal next to her shimmering blue eyes and golden blond hair.
If Harry ever chooses her over me, I can't say I blame him.
"I'm on you're side," Violet finishes. "But your girlfriend here doesn't want to trust me."
Harry looks to me and I turn my gaze to the floor, my cheeks burning.
"I can't say I blame my girlfriend here," Harry replies and I look back at him, and I see it.
Harry would never go back to Violet. Behind her beauty, she is damaged with alcoholism and bad commitment; with breaking hearts and smiling widely for flashing cameras that have done nothing but destroy her. Harry loves me, he does--and I'd be a fool to ever doubt that.
Violet rolls her eyes. "I can help you, you know. Wolfe still trusts me, unlike you."
Harry looks back at Violet. "It's been a while since I've trusted you, Violet, you're going to have to prove yourself."
She locks her jaw. "Fine," she says. "I will." She turns on her heel and begins walking away. "Oh, and if you need me, I'll be in Crystal's complex," she says over her shoulder as she climbs the stairs.
Her high heels echo through the stairwell and Harry and I are left alone.
I look back at the floor.
I feel Harry's soft fingertips tilt my chin up to look at him.
"Are you alright?" He asks.
I nod.
"You don't seem alright."
I shrug, stepping away from his touch. "Violet puts me on edge."
"She puts everyone on edge, that's how she is." Harry pauses. "I have no fucking idea how to react to this, to be honest."
"I was thinking the same thing," I say.
Harry sighs, sticking his hands into his pockets. He suddenly looks back at me. "Alright," he says, shaking his head. "I know what's wrong."
I furrow my brow. "What?"
"You think I'm still in love with Violet."
I shake my head. "No, I don't."
"I don't love her anymore, Rose. I love you,and only you."
"I know." I smile at him as he takes my hand in his, bringing it to his soft lips.
"Violet has nothing on you," he says in my ear as he tugs my body toward his.
I snort. "Please, she has everything on me."
Harry looks at me, almost confusedly. "You're kidding, right?"
"No, why would I be kidding?"
"Don't be insecure, you don't have a reason to be. Violet is my past, but I can tell you that you are my present and my future, and that's how it will always be."
He says it with such confidence and assurance that I break into a smile, wrapping my arms around him. He presses his lips to my hair softly, his chin resting on the top of my head.
We finally pull away and return to our floor to finish up the work day. The whole Violet affair has tired me out and I would want nothing more than to take the rest of the day off, but I have missed enough already with my sickness and when I flew to New York. I've always been one to have good attendance, anyway.
I focus back on my manuscript once back at my desk, nodding to Zayn who lifts his hand in a small wave.
Harry plops back into his seat, sighing. "What a lovely industrial office view," he says, leaning back and resting his hands behind his head. "I just love to stare at a grey wall all day."
I stifle a laugh and he catches it, and his humor is fueled.
"Shut up, Harry," Zayn says and I laugh, high fiving him across the table.
The rest of the day passes smoothly and soon Harry and I are walking back out to my car.
"Can I drive?" Harry asks almost eagerly.
"What? No way."
"Come on, I've never driven an Audi before."
"Sucks," I say, unlocking the car.
"Please please please."
I groan. "You're such a child."
He grins widely and I toss him the keys, switching sides with him.
"Whoa, you've got some great acceleration on this baby," Harry says as we drive along. He zooms ahead, maneuvering the car expertly.
"Slow down, I don't want to get a ticket," I reprimand him.
"You won't get a ticket."
"If I do, you're paying."
Harry rolls his eyes. "You're paying," he mimics and I smack him on the arm.
We eat dinner with Gemma at Harry's place, Harry going on and on about how I've never going to let him drive my car again. Gemma laughs lightly, obviously happy to see her brother not completely hating her guts at the moment.
It doesn't last long, however.
Harry puts down his fork half way through dinner and looks at Gemma. "How long do you plan on staying here?" He asks her.
Gemma pales slightly. "I hadn't thought about it."
"Well, think about it."
I kick Harry under the table and he glares at me.
"Gemma, you can stay as long as you see fit," I say to her. "You can stay with me, if worst comes to worst."
Harry shifts uncomfortably. "This isn't your decision, Rose."
"Gemma is my friend, is she needs a place to stay, she can stay with me."
"Gemma isn't your friend."
"Yes, she is. If you don't like it, tough shit."
Harry glares at me and Gemma has a look of humor mixed with discomfort on her face.
"I'm done eating," Harry snaps, standing abruptly and walking to the kitchen with his plate in hand.
We wash the dishes in silence and after everything is put away I go back to my apartment. I can't understand why Harry is so cold to Gemma when she is trying so hard to mend their relationship. It must be hurting him in some way, and I'm only trying to help.
I spend the night alone for the first time in days, the mattress seeming cold and empty without Harry's body next to me. A large part of me wants to sneak into his apartment and slide into bed with him, but I remain stationary in my own, empty bed.
Harry and I don't speak the next two days, although I have no idea why. We didn't really fight. It hurts, and I want to speak to him and fix things, but I haven't found the time.
The party is three days away, and everyone is highly strung. I bought my dress the other afternoon, hoping to drag Harry along to get his opinion, but I never ended up calling him.
Violet has made multiple appearances in our office complex, her pumps clicking on the marble as she talks to Marion. I'm still wary of her, and I don't think anything will change that.
On Wednesday night, I'm doing laundry downstairs when I hear music.
Not just any music--piano music.
I have noticed a couple times that there is a piano in the lobby, but most of the time it's little children that play on it, and no one really serious. But this music is something else.
I step out of the laundry room and peer at the black piano, and there is Harry, his hands moving across the ivory keys.
I recognize the song and am in awe at the complexity of it; his large, soft hands moving up and down the keyboard rapidly.
His expression is grave, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched as he plays on, the piece not ending until three minutes later.
When he finishes, he brings his hands to his lap, taking a breath.
"Wow," I say from behind him and he turns around to look at me. "Chopin."
"You know that piece?"
"Yes, actually. Winter Wind Etude." Harry looks impressed and nods.
I shift my weight. "I didn't know you played."
He shrugs. "Not much anymore, but my mother made me play it when I was younger."
"Well, I happen to know a bit if Chopin myself," I say, sitting beside him on the bench and reaching out to the keys.
I start the piece and become lost in it, as always. Harry watches, his green eyes wide.
My fingers glide over the keys, my foot pushing down the damper pedal under the piano. My piece comes to a close shortly and I lean back, resting my hands on the back of the piano bench.
"Wow," Harry says.
"Do you recognize the piece?"
"Yes," he says smugly. "Nocture in C sharp minor."
"Very good, Mr. Styles," I tease.
"And you, Miss Knight," he replies, a small smile crossing his face.
"How long have you been playing?" I ask him.
"Since I was eight," he says. "Almost sixteen years, then."
I smirk. "I have you beat."
"Oh yeah?"
"I started when I was four."
He rolls his eyes and I lean on his shoulder, laughing.
His arm snakes around my waist and we sit like that for a while, staring at the piano.
"I'm sorry for being so pushy about Gemma," I blurt.
"It's alright, you were right, in the end," he sighs. "She's staying with me as long as she needs."
"I hated spending these days without talking to you," I admit.
"So did I," he agrees. "It was pure hell."
I smile at him and he kisses my lips sweetly.
"Besides, we need to be united for the party," he says, once we pull away.
I sigh. "I'm so nervous."
"I know, I am too."
There's a short pause.
"I don't suppose you know any Mozart?"
"Of course I know Mozart, Harry." I scoff.
"Prove it."
"Alright, what should I play?"
"Turkish March."
"As you wish."
And for the rest of the night, we alternate playing pieces, sometimes making up random pieces together, until Mr. Wu steps out of the elevator and complains about us.
"My sincerest apologies, Mr. Wu," Harry says and Mr. Wu grumbles.
"Sorry doesn't fix the fact that my wife left me," he says in his choppy accent and Harry gives him an odd look before I pull him into the elevator and we burst into laughter.
We watch the Big Bang Theory with Gemma again before falling asleep tangled with one another, Harry mumbling sleepily that he loves me before we both black out.
"Rosie-posie, pudding and pie."
I open my eyes to see Harry leaning over me, smirking widely.
"Kicked the boys and made them cry," he continues his nursery rhyme.
"That's not even how the rhyme goes," I say to him groggily.
"I know, I changed it so I could say it to you."
"Shut up," I groan, turning over and hugging a pillow.
"It's time for work."
I make a noise that certainly doesn't sound human and Harry laughs.
"Do I have to drag you out of bed?"
"If you touch me I will hit you in the nuts so hard you'll vomit."
"Harsh."
"Well."
"Come on, let me see those beautiful dog shit colored eyes of yours."
I giggle. "No."
"Rosie, Rosie." Harry climbs over me and digs his fingers into my sides, making me squeal loudly.
"Stop it, Harry!"
"See, now you're awake."
"I'm not afraid to hit you in the---"
Within seconds he's off me, standing up next to the bed.
"That sure made you move fast," I giggle, sitting up in bed.
"Got to protect the baby maker, you know."
"God, gross, Harry. It's too early for penis jokes."
"It's never too early for penis jokes."
I roll my eyes and get out of bed, grabbing my key and making my way back to my apartment.
"I'll be over in twenty!" Harry calls to me and I shut the door after bidding good morning to Gemma.
Work passes as usual, Harry procrastinating and me attempting to focus. For some reason, I can't get my nightmares out of my mind, and I think about the party constantly.
Harry senses this as we stop for lunch at Panera.
"What are you thinking about?" He asks me as he slips out of his coat, putting it across the back of his chair.
"The party," I sigh, sitting down.
Harry dips his spoon into his soup and stirs thoughtfully.
I sigh and break off a piece of my bread.
"Everything will turn out, don't worry," he says.
I shake my head. "I can't stop thinking of...thinking of the gun."
Harry exhales slowly. "I should have never brought you into this," he says, putting down his spoon and putting his head in his hands.
"I brought myself into it, remember? I'm the one that followed you like a fucking idiot."
"You're not an idiot, you're just---"
"Curious," we say at the sane time.
We eat in silence against soup bowls sounding in the air.
"We'll get through this," Harry says all of a sudden. "We'll get through this, together. You and I."
I smile a bit. "You think so?"
"Yes. I do." He smiles back. "Because it's either both of us or neither of us, right?"
I reach across the table and intertwine our hands. "Right."