Dirty Laundry [N.H.]

Office Party

Working as Mr. Horan's assistant has its highs and lows, but days when Mr. Styles came in to see him were most definitely the highest of highs.

The two of them had been friends for years according to Mr. Horan, and they seemed to be quite close from what I've gathered. They're both very much alike with intimidating eye contact and domineering demeanours — they can make anyone crumble with just one glance.

Upfront, they were daunting, but behind those closed office doors I found myself always hearing laughter boom from behind the walls, telling me that the scary facade only lasted when in the presence of others.

I always wondered what it would be like to be around them like that, to be in on their conversations and listen to their voices drawl out in the sultry way that they did, but in the back of my mind I knew that it was never possible. They were the Horan and Styles and I was just me.

Mr. Horan was also quite young to be the CEO of Fine Forms, the largest architecture firm in North America. At a mere 28 years of age he's managed to climb his way to the top and look damn good doing it. Mr. Styles was there right alongside him, having just turned 27, he was the youngest CEO the publishing world had ever seen. The two of them were known for being friends, which ultimately made them the hottest bachelors in the city. Having power, money, and looks can get you pretty far when you're as charismatic as these two are.

Only being 24, I wasn't much younger than them and it only made it that much harder to control myself around them. I had to remind myself on the daily that I was in a professional work setting, surrounded by professional people. I couldn't risk giving up this job of amazing pay and easy work for some flimsy attempt at one of them who probably wouldn't even give me a second glance out on the streets. Never mind the fact that Mr. Horan is my boss too.

Although I knew I had to keep it professional, that didn't stop me from dressing a bit nicer today knowing that Mr. Styles was coming in to have lunch with Mr. Horan. My tight black skirt and tucked in red sheer blouse was borderline inappropriate, but I just made sure my hair covered my exposed chest from the buttons I had purposefully left undone.

I've been desperate for any kind of attention from any male recently, and I'm not proud of it. Working for Mr. Horan is great, but it's also very time consuming. It rarely leaves me with any time to socialize with friends except for on the weekends, and even then I'd rather catch up on sleep and just relax at home than go out. It's mainly my fault I know, but it still doesn't make it any easier to accept.

When I heard the elevator ding earlier at exactly 11:59 a.m. I knew exactly who it was. Mr.Styles has always been punctual, never once late and that only attracted me to him more. I immediately moved my hair back from off my shoulders and pretended to be busy on the computer as he stepped off the elevator.

I caught his outfit from the corner of my eye and immediately sucked in a harsh breath at the sight. He had a black undershirt on with a brown diamond-patterned suit thrown over top, hints of black, muted yellow, and green weaving its way through the pattern. He looked so fucking good, especiallly with the way his hair fell in looses waves down to his collarbones, or maybe even a bit past them.

I always wondered what it would be like to run my fingers through his hair. If it would be as soft and silky smooth like how it looked. I wondered what it would feel like to weave my fingers through it and tug on the strands, making him throatily groan out against my neck. But those were all merely just thoughts that raced through my head anytime I saw him.

I pretended to not notice him at first, busying myself by typing out an email until he had slightly coughed, signalling me of his presence. I took a breath before I swiveled around in my chair, a bright smile on my face as I peered up at him. His eyes immediately locked on mine, but not before quickly dropping to my chest. "Good afternoon Briella." He said sternly, his eyes drifting from my own to take in my face. They dropped down to my lips as I replied. "Good afternoon, Mr. Styles. Mr. Horan is ready for you."