MUSE // A Harry Styles Story

V.I.P.

Louise was predictably furious with Harry's trip into Pampelonne. The raised voices in the kitchen could be heard all the way in Lia's room. She kept sewing, drowning them out with music. She had finished her blue overalls, a shirt for Harry, and was now making a skirt for Charlotte. Maybe I'll become the band's seamstress, she thought; I wonder if it would pay better than my teacher's salary?

Harry came storming in, slamming the door behind him, one hand in his hair and one working his bottom lip, eyes flashing sapphire, gold, and emerald in anger.

"She makes me crazy. She's my assistant, not my mother. No one recognized me. No one photographed me kissing you. And would that be such a bad thing? I want to be photographed kissing you. To give them something to talk about. I spoke to my publicist in London the other day. He agrees that I need some exposure. Let's go to the VIP Room tonight. Wouldn't a night out be fun?"

"Yes, it would be a lot of fun, but I'm worried, Harry. I don't know what that kind of exposure will mean for me. Emma knew you were familiar but couldn't quite place you. What if she figures it out? She's seventeen. I'm not sure she'll be able to keep it a secret."

"She doesn't know where the house is. If we're seen at the VIP Room, and maybe in Cannes, people will think I'm farther east. That's where most people stay. We can make this work."

Lia's brows knit. "You're used to this. You make it sound easy. What about me? What do I do when they figure out who I am? Will they descend on Pampelonne? Any number of former windsurfing students know I live just off the beach, and most of my students in Paris know that this is where I spend the summer."

"We'll put Paul, my publicist, on it. He'll take you on as a client if it becomes its own job. It goes without saying that I'll cover the cost. We'll keep your life as private as we can... I suppose I should ask if you have any scandals in your past that we should know about."

She was surprised. "You haven't had me checked out?" 

He shook his head. 

"Wow. I assumed someone would have done that before I came for your first lesson. Well, the answer is no. Two serious relationships, one ended in a broken heart, the other didn't. A few short ones. Two one night stands. Happy family, until Maman died. Papa left for Guadeloupe and I don't think he's ever coming back. There you have it."

"You'll bore them with your squeaky clean life; it's perfect. I'm going to go arrange tonight with the boys. We'll need all three of them. I'm also going to tell Louise she's not invited. Actually, I don't think I'll invite the band, either. We'll have a night on the town, just you and me." He kissed her and walked toward the door, then stopped.

"Lia, what are you listening to?"

"Oh shit." She turned it down. "You weren't supposed to hear that. I guess it's totally uncool." It was her secret playlist. The band. She felt the blush burning on her cheeks, her chest.

Harry came back and sat on the foot of the bed. "Lia, it's perfectly fine. I don't particularly want to hear it, but if it makes you happy, then we did our job well. Turn it back up. When you come to a place where you can stop what you're doing, come find me. We need to have a wardrobe consultation."

*****

Harry chose jacquard trousers in pale peach, paired with a simple cream silk shirt that he wore tucked in and unbuttoned to the waist. Lia wasn't a fan of the pearly white loafers with a two inch heel, but he was the style guru, not she. His hands, loaded with rings, including the gold and white band, always looked amazing.

She wore a simple gold silk cowl neck slip dress, and stiletto sandals. Harry did her hair, parting it in the middle and plaiting two delicate braids that framed her face while the rest flowed free. She would have been invited to jump the line at any club in the world.