50 Shades of Styles

Chapter 23

Everything in it is entirely imaginary and intended only for entertainment; I created it for fun. I did not write 50 Shades of Grey or any of its characters, and I do not own them.

Chapter 23

I glance nervously around the bar but cannot see him.

"Lou, what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"It's Harry, he's here."

"What? Really?" She glances around the bar too.

I have neglected to mention Harry's stalker tendencies to my mum.

I see him. My heart leaps, beginning a juddering thumping beat as he makes his way toward us. He's really here – for me. My inner goddess leaps up cheering from her chaise longue. Moving smoothly through the crowd, his hair glints burnished copper and red under the recessed halogens. His bright green eyes are shining with – anger? Tension? His mouth is set in a grim line, jaw tense. Oh, holy shit... no. I am so mad at him right now, and here he is. How can I be angry with him in front of my mother?

He arrives at our table, gazing at me warily. He's dressed in his customary white linen shirt and jeans.

"Hi," I squeak, unable to hide my shock and awe at seeing him here in the flesh.

"Hi," he replies, and leaning down, he kisses my cheek, taking me by surprise.

"Harry, this is my mother, Jay." My ingrained manners take over.

He turns to greet my mom.

"Ms. Deakin, I am delighted to meet you."

How does he know her name? He gives her the heart-stopping, Harry Styles patented, full-blown-no-prisoners-taken smile. She doesn't have a hope. My mother's lower jaw practically hits the table. Jeez, get a grip Mum. She takes his proffered hand and they shake. My mother hasn't replied. Oh, complete dumbfounded speechlessness is genetic –

I had no idea.

"Harry," she manages finally, breathlessly.

He smiles knowingly at her, his green eyes twinkling. I narrow my eyes at them both.

"What are you doing here?" My question sounds more brittle than I mean, and his smile disappears, his expression now guarded. I am thrilled to see him, but completely thrown off balance, my anger about Mr. Robinson simmering through my veins. I don't know if I want to shout at him or throw myself into his arms – but I don't think he'd like either – and I want to know how long he has been watching us. I'm also a little anxious about the email I just sent him.

"I came to see you, of course." He gazes down at me impassively. Oh, what is he thinking? "I'm staying in this hotel."

"You're staying here?" I sound like a sophomore on amphetamines, too high-pitched even for my own ears.

"Well, yesterday you said you wished I was here." He pauses trying to gauge my reaction. "We aim to please, Mr. Tomlinson." His voice is quiet with no trace of humor.

Crap – Is he mad? Maybe the Mr. Robinson comments? Or the fact that I am on my third, soon-to-be fourth Cosmo? My mother is glancing anxiously at the two of us.

"Won't you join us for a drink, Harry?" She waves to the waiter who is at her side in a nanosecond.

"I'll have a gin and tonic," Harry says. "Hendricks if you have it or Bombay Sapphire. Cucumber with the Hendricks, lime with the Bombay."

Holy hell... only Harry could make a meal out of ordering a drink.

"And two more Cosmos please," I add, looking anxiously at Harry. I am drinking with my mother – no way can he be angry about that.