Hate That I Love You

Chapter 18

Louis snorted for the umpteenth time as he listened with boredom to the conference his father was holding with Japanese CEOs, who had been forced to attend.

What then, it was useless. Both his father would never have listened to his point of view, indeed he would not even ask for an opinion on it. And, in short, despite everything that was said about him, Louis had learned the trade quite well, his father had sent him to do internships in the most disparate places in the world to be able to make him understand something about finance and he had made the ass everywhere in order to one day be able to carry on the company.

Therefore, he had been an intern everywhere, he had brought coffee over coffee, made photocopies on photocopies just to attend meetings and to understand how the world worked in between, yet his father still did not want to take it into consideration.

Mark had always told him that, before he could have a say, he had to learn what hard work was and, well, Louis had understood by now. No one had ever treated him like Mark's son, no one had ever given him special treatment, it didn't seem right that he was still regarded as ignorant and good for nothing.

And just as he made these considerations, his cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his pants. Mark glared at him, stern as he could rarely be but Louis just smiled through gritted teeth and grabbed his cell phone.

From Harold: I'm getting bored where are you?

Louis smiled unwittingly.

To Harold: I'm working. Contrary to what you think, I am a busy person. You're the slacker in the middle here.

From Harold: Too bad. I happened upon your office by accident and wanted to show you how good your gift looked.

Louis frowned, not understanding what the boy was referring to.

To Harold: I don't give you gifts, you have the wrong person.

From Harold: Are you sure?

A few seconds later, a photo arrived attached to the message. Louis had to jump from his chair when he noticed the close-up of Harry's ass wearing the lace Brazilian that, some time before, he had given him only and exclusively to tease him. Never could he have imagined that Harry would wear such a thing, considering that, even if he tried not to make it look too much, the one who ruled in the wrong as well as beautiful relationship was definitely the curly haired boy.

Mark glared at him once more as Louis, springing to his feet, had knocked the meeting room chair backwards.

"Er," the boy began, embarrassed, with his cheeks on fire and something starting to press annoyingly against his leg. "I- I'm sorry, but I really have to go."

"What do you mean you have to go?" the man asked sternly.

"Here, Dad." Louis bit his lip. "I have problems, well, very serious," he invented. He went to his ear and whispered "My lactose intolerance is giving him problems, I was wrong to drink latte macchiato this morning."

"Oh," Mark exhaled. "Er, all right son. Forgive my son," Mark said to the other men. "There's an organization problem downstairs and he'll take care of it."

"Thanks," Louis smiled. "And sorry," he concluded before heading quickly to the glass door of the meeting room office and quickly exiting.

He headed for the elevator and, as he entered, began to push the number twenty-three several times, which corresponded to the floor where his office was located. He knew that if he kept pushing that button, he wouldn't speed up the elevator's arrival, but it was a way to keep his hands busy, or else he would keep looking at the photo that bastard one Styles sent him.