Harry's POV
I wake up to the sound of pounding on my door.
Who the hell could that be?
I roll over pulling a pillow over my head deciding sleep is more important. Whoever is at the door can fuck off.
"Harry,' the pounding continues," I don't care how hungover you are i need you dressed and downstairs for breakfast in 10 minutes. Thats an order." Pounding one last time before leaving my door. Its my father.
Everything out of that man's mouth is an order. Orders I'm never stupid enough to disobey.
I grab the pillow and toss it across the room blindly, hitting a lamp. Great. Something else for me to pay for.
I could have sworn i just went to bed an hour ago how is it already morning? I sit up slowly stretching my arms, glancing down at the small clock on the mahogany nightstand.
7:42AM
I slept like 3 hours of course I feel like shit. I knew shouldn't have stayed up so late writing. I just couldn't help it. I came back into the room feeling something I haven't felt in awhile - excitement, the words just flowed out of me and onto the paper.
Everything about yesterday afternoon/last night was completely different then what I'm use to expecting on these business trips.
I check in, I have a boring dinner with one of my father's business partners, I attend boring meetings, more boring dinners, early mornings, random whores, and some writing on my free time.
That's it.
Every. Single. Time.
Except this time.
I shuffle into the bathroom with one eye open letting out a loud yawn, while lifting up the toilet seat making the daily struggle of pissing with morning wood.
I wash my hands and splash some cold water on my face hoping it'll wake me up. Using the small towel on the rack i pat my face dry staring at myself in the mirror. I have huge dark circles under my green eyes as proof of how fucking tired I am and feel.
I walk towards the small closet and pull out one of the 12 silk black dress shirts I brought on this trip.
As I'm tying my Italian leather shoes I hear my phone buzz from the inside of my black jeans that I carelessly left on the floor last night. I walk over pulling my phone out and tossing the sand covered jeans on an empty chair near the wall.
1 NEW MESSAGE(S)
Monique Wallshire 💀
No thanks I think to myself not even bothering to read the message, shoving my phone into my slim black chino dress pants.
20 minutes later I'm finally out the door making my way to the resorts complimentary breakfast buffet.
I scan the booths looking for the back of my fathers bald head. Ah there he is.
I quickly straighten out my navy blue tie taking slow steps towards my fathers table weaving through the rush of starving people in their pajamas.
Eating breakfast in pajamas, that sounds amazing.
"Harry it's nice to see you, you're looking as sharp as ever," an overly excited man tells me with a huge grin showing his bleached white teeth as he stands up to greet me with a handshake while my father stays seated typing away on his phone.
I feel the love pops.
"Good morning. And thanks. I'm sorry I didn't catch your name," I say with a fake ass smile plastered on my face as I firmly shake his hand like my father taught me.
"I'm Christopher McGuire, I'm from finances. I'll be accompanying you and your father this afternoon to the new space you are thinking of purchasing," he says gesturing for me to take a seat next to my father, who might I add, still hasn't acknowledged me since I arrived.
He's probably pissed at me for being 10 minutes late.
Instead of sitting I grab the empty plate in front of my seat.
"Have you eaten yet Mr. McGuire? " I ask even though I already know the answer is going to be no. My father never starts eating breakfast until his last guest has arrived. Something he learned from my mum. The funny thing is I'm almost always the last guest to arrive.
"Call me Chris, " bleached teeth says grabbing his plate, following behind me.
Someone's hungry.
A few minutes later I return to the table with a plate of bacon, eggs and French toast avoiding my fathers eyes.
"Don't you think it's a little early for all that sugar," my father finally says to me in a disapproving tone as I shove a fork full of French toast into my mouth after I've drowned them in hazelnut syrup.
"Well?" He asks clearly waiting for an answer.
"Not really. I mean why do you think they serve French toast at literally every breakfa.." I start.
"Don't speak with your mouth full Harry," my father says cutting me off even though he's the one who wanted me to speak.
That's my father for you.
"Sorry," I mumble rolling my eyes. Thankfully I see Chris approach the table with a huge grin on his face, his plate piled high.
"There's so much to choose from it's incredible," he says sounding like a child in a candy store. My father gives him a nod as if he feels the same way even though all he has in front of him is a bowl of fruit and Greek yogurt.
Who eats that kind of shit?
The second Chris has a seat he immediately begins going on about how the last hotel he stayed at in Michigan only had a waffle maker and small boxes of rice crispy cereal at their buffet even though the website clearly said it had a wide variety.
Here goes another boring breakfast I think shoving another forkful of food in my mouth trying my best to look like I actually give a shit.
Anissa's POV
I'm awoken by a light knock at the door and I slowly push off the duvet covers of this ridiculously large bed.
Another knock, this time sounding more like a fist pounding.
"I'm coming hold on," I say shuffling in the stupid flip flops that Harry bought me that don't even fit.
I swing the door open and see the back of an ombré haired girl wearing a tight, lime green workout one piece tapping her nike roshe covered foot impatiently.
"You can't even reply to my text, H?" The random girl says in a voice that a child who didn't get what they wanted would use.
"Uh I think you have the wrong room," I say pulling a piece of my wavy hair behind my ear.
She quickly whips her hair as she turns to face me in the doorway with a look of surprise.
"Who are ... you?" She asks crinkling her nose pointing a long finger nail at me.
How does she wipe her ass?
"The question is who are YOU," I snap pushing down her finger that she has in my face. It's too early for this shit.
"This is MY room and I have no idea who you're looking for," I finish before slamming the door in her face.
Weird bitch.
I shuffle back to the large bed and look at the mirror-like clock hanging on the wall that shows it's a little past eight.
I hear my stomach growl as I pick up the room phone to call the front desk.
"Good morning pent house room number 2. What can I be of assistance of?" A cheery voice on the other line answers.
"Is there breakfast served here?" I ask hoping there is so I don't have to change out of my pajamas just yet.
"Yes there is a complimentary breakfast buffet around the corner on your right from the front desk. You have enough time, they don't stop serving breakfast until 11," the cheery voice says on the other end of the line.
"Thank you very much."
I grab my cellphone and my room key and make my way to the elavator still wearing these stupid big flip flops.
At least my pajamas, well my version of pajamas, are normal I think, looking down at my soft white shorts and black nike racerback tank top.
I find the buffet easily mostly because that's the direction every one is going in.
I grab a plate from an empty table in the corner that has only one chair tucked in to the table. It's like it was made for me.
As I wait behind a short pregnant woman to get her omelet so I can make my own I look around the tables. I spot a now familiar head of curly hair that isn't as messy as last night at a table near mine in the back with 2 older men. Harry. He looks so uncomfortable wearing that tie and dress shirt.
What's wrong with pajamas?
He looks bored out of his mind staring absently at his piece of bacon before taking a bite.
I finish choosing a few other things like waffles fruit and bacon before walking back to my table.
Harry doesn't notice me as I pass his table suddenly making me feel like yesterday really was just all one big crazy dream.
I take a seat and immediately dig into my plate.
Harry's POV
"No. I've actually never been to Mexico surprisingly since it's so close," I answer feeling slightly annoyed. How many god damn questions does this guy have?
I take a sip of my water and almost choke when I see a pair of small white shorts walk past the table. That bubbly ass looks familiar. I lean over the table slightly to get a glimpse of her shoes. She's wearing Flip flops that are too big for her feet.
Anissa.
"Dad, Chris, If you'll excuse me I have something to do before we head out to check out that new location," I explain excusing myself.
"That's fine. You're excused," my father says as if I was asking, " Id like you to meet us out front at 1:15. Sharp," he says firmly making it clear he won't tolerate my lateness twice in one day.
"Gotcha. 1:15 sharp. " I reassure him.
Walking towards Anissa's table i watch her devour an omelet like she hasn't eaten in years. That's exactly how she ate her tacos too.
"Good morning," I say startling her as I pull up a chair from the next table and placing it next to hers.
"Harry. Hi," she says wiping syrup off her cheek.
"You're suppose to say good morning back to me not hi, " I say trying to give her a hard time since I'm bored as hell.
"I don't do 'good mornings' .. it sounds stupid," she answers throwing her dirty napkin in my face.
"Okay weirdo. So who'd you steal this clothes from?" I ask looking down at her outfit.
"Ha ha very funny. For your information these are my pajamas," she says while popping a grape into her mouth.
"But your shit was all wet yesterday?" I say grabbing a piece of bacon off her plate.
"Why are you so nosey? Jesus. If you must know my room has a washer and dryer so I washed my clothes so I wouldn't have to wear that shit you bought me," she says pulling the rest of the bacon out of my hand before I have a chance to put it into my mouth, putting it into her own mouth.
"I'm not nosey. It's just a question," I tell her tugging a piece of her messy hair. She's one of those girls that doesn't even need to brush their hair and they still look like god damn hair models. She slaps my hand before returning her attention to the rest of her food.
"So can I just ask you one more thing?" I ask sliding forward on my chair.
"No."
"Ah come on you still owe me," I tell her snatching the last bacon strip from her hand and quickly putting the whole thing in my mouth.
She wants to be rude? I can be rude too.
"Okay you know what that was my last piece of bacon you ass. Go get me more," she says giving me an annoyed look sliding her empty plate in front of me.
"Answer my question and I'll bring you as much fuckin bacon as you want," I tell her crossing my arms behind my head.
"Fine. Make it quick," she finally answers crossing her arms over her chest.
"Why do you have so much shit in your backpack?" I remember when I looked inside she had a shit ton of stuff in there and it made me curious.
"I travel a lot. I don't like carrying those huge luggage bags, henceforth the backpack," she says handing me her plate, " Dont get too many I only want 3 more pieces and I hate wasting food" Giving me smirk.
I grab it and head towards the bacon. Just to fuck with her I grab as much bacon as my hands can grab just to see if she'll eat it all so it doesn't go to waste.
"I didn't know you liked bacon so much," I hear Monique's voice say.
Where did she come from?
She's wearing some neon colored weird one piece making her look like a crayon.
"It's for a friend," I answer quickly walking back to Anissa's table hoping Monique doesn't follow me.
Out of the corner of my eye I see she does.
And she looks pissed.
Authors Note
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