9th July 2015
Eloise is pulling the Audi out of the garage as the gate opens and Jeff heads up the drive. Programming the sat nav whilst he parks and jogs over, she waves hello before Harry leans into her open window and gives her a quick kiss good luck.
"Remember to drive on the right!", he laughs, drumming on the roof.
She revs the engine and flips him off out the window, to Jeff's amusement.
>
A little early, she's back at Soho House West Hollywood and seated at a table on the balcony, overlooking that incredible view of LA again. Feeling nervous, she taps her foot against the table leg and gives herself a mini pep-talk.
The Commissioning Editor called this meeting because he already loves her script. It's just a chat. Nothing stressful.
Her mind soon wanders, as it tends to, back to Harry. How sweet he'd been last night, and again this morning when he woke her up with a coffee in bed.
She snaps out of it, wiping the dreamy smile from her face, when she hears her phone ping with a notification.
Digging for it in her tote, she spots a sweet and simple 'You've got this! .x' from Harry, before she swipes to open Rosie's. 'Ura-fucking-Sawa?!! He's a keeper!', with a link to an E!News article. Shit.
She holds her breath as she clicks on it and hastily scans the headline and pictures. 'Flash Harry's date with mystery blonde'. She's relieved to see the tilt of her head and curtain of her hair ensured she wasn't recognisable. He looks amazing though, even when rankled and in protective mode. Swoon.
She taps out a quick response. 'You have no idea!!! Now stop stalking me and piss off... Netflix meeting now, eek! Xx'.
Looking up, she spots a hostess leading a man over, so throws her phone back into her bag and stands up to greet him with a deep breath and a wide smile.
"Eloise? Chris Sussman", he says, soft British tone contrasting with his firm handshake.
>
He only has forty-five minutes, so their meeting flies by, and before she knows it, she's bidding him goodbye and breathing a sigh of relief.
He loves the premise and rich characters of her script, and asked where she sees the story going as they're most interested in series with some longevity. She tap-danced around an answer, spitballing some ideas, but he nodded along enthusiastically enough.
He probed whether her passion lies more in writing or performing, but her rambling response seemed to satisfy him. Essentially, she's fascinated by people and their stories, their feelings and motivations. Loves getting absorbed into new worlds and letting her imagination roam free whilst she's writing. She sees her characters so vividly, and loves challenging herself to really bring them to life. But she also relishes the challenge of figuring out and physically embodying characters - whether her own or other peoples' - finding and honing their voices and mannerisms, their quirks and foibles. Doing them justice. Letting them live.
He briefly explained their ethos, ambitions and targets, and the scope of their production deals - including one with BBC America. He proudly mentioned a talented writer and actress by the name of Phoebe Waller-Bridge. Eloise had quickly jumped in to say she'd seen Fleabag on stage and was blown away. Turns out Chris commissioned it as a series and they've just started filming in London.
He's evidently got great taste and an eye for talent, Eloise thinks to herself. And he met with little old me, she shakes her head in disbelief.
Checking her phone and seeing that it's nearly 9.30am, she finishes her water, gathers her bag and fires Harry a text to say she'll head back just as soon as he gives her Jeff's coffee order.
>
Eloise heads upstairs from the garage, with her phone tucked awkwardly between her ear and shoulder, hastily updating Melissa, her literary agent back in London, on the meeting.
Dumping her bag on the kitchen island, she toes off her heels before taking the boys' coffees - a black and a white iced Americano - out to the balcony, barefoot.
At Harry's immediate and total distraction, Jeff turns around, grinning as she approaches. They whisper their thanks for the coffees as she mouths "Sorry" at her continuing conversation, taking her phone in her now free hand and flexing her neck.
"How'd it go?", Harry whispers eagerly before she heads back inside. She grins in response and whispers back, "You guys finish up. I'll fill you in later".
>
It's nearing 11am when he wraps up the last of his calls and finds her sitting on the balcony off the bedroom, feet propped up on the top of the glass balustrade, touching up the orangey red polish on her toes.
He pops a hip against the glass, watching her with a sweet smile on his face. "You look like a baby giraffe... Or a grasshopper", he sniggers.
"I'd like to see you try and reach!", she grins, still concentrating on her toes.
"That was Will. Apparently the traffic is shocking in San Diego. Comic-Con's on at the Convention Centre too, so to avoid the risk of getting stuck, they've booked a jet from Van Nuys. We'll get the bus back tonight though", he drawls as she nods along. "We'll still leave at the same time to allow getting from the airport and extra time to soundcheck the new songs and run through all Zayn's parts. There might be some waiting around this afternoon, I'm afraid".
"Are you kidding me?", she screws the lid on the polish and unfurls her arms and legs, looking up at him. "Seeing you in action? Plus a private jet? Tour bus? Access all areas? Backstage? And front-row tickets?! No apologies necessary, believe me. I'm so excited!". She jumps up to peck him on the lips with a bright smile.
Running his fingers through her hair as she leans against his chest, freshly painted toes a safe distance away, he eyes her (his) t-shirt and knickers combination with a smirk. "Don't forget your very good odds of banging someone in the band after the show! I've heard one of them is crazy about you". He smirks before kissing her again, properly this time.
"Now as much as I'm enjoying this get up", he says, playfully twanging the elastic of her underwear against her bum. He nudges her forward with his hips and guides her, walking backwards, across his bedroom. "The car will be here in an hour. We should grab something to eat before we go too".
In his closet, he pulls out a leather holdall and throws it down on the floor, open between them. "Fill 'er up".
>
Whilst he showers, she finishes her make-up and chooses what to wear. She settles on a white cotton sun dress with pretty tie detail off-the-shoulder sleeves, accessorising with taupe leather heeled ankle boots, her Gucci cross-body bag and trusty Celine sunglasses. She shoves her oversized light blue denim jacket in his bag.
When he emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered and stark naked, she's finishing styling her hair like it was that first night in Malibu - a wispy chunky plait at her hairline with the rest of her long waves piled into a messily undone bun on the top of her head.
He stops mid-stride, saying lustily, "Well, you look gorgeous".
"So do you...", she bites her lip and leans back against the headboard, ogling him unashamedly.
"You'll make me blush", he laughs throwing a pair of clean boxers at her face.
"You love it!", she squeals with glee as he climbs on to the bed and crawls over, holding himself above her.
Pulling his damp curls over his shoulder, she warns, "Don't start something you can't finish, Styles... It's almost noon".
''Consider this the warm up act then", he smirks, leaning in to kiss her as he pulls her hemline higher up her thigh to slide a hand between her legs.
>
Worked up and feeling frustrated, she sends him an unimpressed look as she hurries past where he holds open the door of the chauffeur-driven BMW saloon waiting on the drive.
Throwing the bag in after her, he then ducks to slide smoothly in alongside her.
Planting it purposefully on the seat between them, she arches one eyebrow haughtily.
With a scoff, he pushes it to the footwell and physically pulls her into his side, draping an arm over her shoulder with a satisfied smirk.
Scrunching her nose in defeat, she snuggles into his side. God, he smells good. And looks every inch the rockstar too, in his washed out black t-shirt, ripped black skinny jeans and grey boots, adorned with a grey fedora, black sunglasses, necklace and rings.
She's pretty sure she's not nearly a good enough actress to even bother pretending she can resist.
Surreptitiously trailing a hand higher up his thigh towards his fly, he snatches it up with a hiss before placing a placating kiss on her knuckles. "Okay, truce!".
"Absolutely not! Safe to say you did not think this through", she laughs teasingly, eyeing his tight jeans.
"Oh, I definitely did!".
"With the wrong head, maybe?", she whispers, licking a long stripe up his neck.
>
Thirty teasing minutes later, as they pull up at the edge of the tarmac at Van Nuys airport, he warns her there might be paps about - ever opportunistic and hopeful around the private terminal.
Meeting at the bonnet of the BMW to head towards the sleek jet waiting nearby, he has to remind himself to heed his own warning and resist the temptation to take her hand or place his on her lower back.
They greet the boisterous small crowd gathered at the foot of the stairs to the jet; Niall, Louis, Lottie, Lou, Will and a couple of security guards. Despite setting off late, they still managed to beat Liam. Paul, the musicians and the rest of the crew left for the stadium on the buses earlier this morning to set up.
Mingling amongst the others, there's a little more cover and they gravitate naturally closer as they all chat.
Noticing Will eyeing them appraisingly from behind his sunglasses, Eloise feels torn between stepping away or inching closer.
But Harry decides for her; slinging an arm around her shoulder as he guffaws at something Niall just said. Plucking his hat off his head, he plops it playfully on hers as he shakes out and ruffles his still drying curls.
Spotting Will hide a wry smile as he starts ushering them inside as soon as Liam pulls up, she turns back at the bottom of the steps to return Harry's hat back to his own head and shoo him away.
Catching Will's eye again, he winks back with a smile. She figures this will be a lot easier if she can keep management on side and avoid antagonising them unnecessarily.
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