Prince and the Pauper

Chapter Six

With a kink in my neck, and a groan from my lips, I woke up in my crammed apartment. It was only just getting light outside it was so early, and I rubbed my eyes groggily with the palms of my hands. Oh joy to the morning I sarcastically thought. It was with great effort and a loud grunt that I eventually climbed off the bed, without thinking my actions through. Just as my feet touched the cold, concrete ground the bed frame flung up with a whoosh of air brushing behind me, and slammed down folded up, making me curse in fright.
"Definitely not a morning person." I mumbled as I shoved the now folded bed down into the frame of the couch. I threw the couch cushions on top and sighed at the couch with both anger and appreciation. As rock hard as the bed may be, it certainly made making the bed light work. Glancing at the small alarm clock plugged into the corner of the apartment that was buzzing away, I threw a lone shoe in its direction, effectively shutting it up. I laughed lightly at my laziness.
"Wonder if it would have the same effect of shutting Harry up if I threw my shoe at him." I grinned to myself, stopping when I realised I was talking to myself and felt like the joke was now on me.
Ten minutes later I had pulled on my best black skinny jeans, with miraculously only one scuffed knee, and a white t-shirt. My hair was in a half-up, half-down style, and a pink bow sat on top, and black boots with a fair three inch heel completed my look. Not exactly Styles Enterprises classic look, but the best I could do. Hurrying out the door I sped down the creaky apartment stairs and out into the nearly vacant street. I bustled my way down the streets with speed knowing Harry was expecting me early, resentment simmering in my heart at the thought that I was actually working for the enemy. Still, Harry had seemed civil enough yesterday, friendly even, but I wasn't a fan just yet. Not even close. An hour later I had made it out of Wentworth and into the now bustling streets of Adlington, where I was now surrounded by smart suits and tight pencil skirts and blouses. I earned more than a fair share of glares and scoffs of disgust, but also delivered an equal amount of vicious glares and obviously fake smiles. By the time I reached the tall, looming building I was tired and slightly out of breath. I had just about reached the revolving doors when a voice stopped me.
"Devonne!" I stopped and spun around, only to lock eyes on a familiar face. Bash stood there with his long brown hair tied back and ever sparkling brown eyes. He had grown a decent amount since I last saw him, but the biggest change in him was his clothing. He had traded in usual stained khaki pants for smart black dress pants, and a red jacket with gold trimmings and buttons up the front, a familiar logo on the breast pocket. Styles Enterprises was the company behind the logo, and a laugh of disbelief passed my chapped lips from the chilly morning air.
"My God, it really is you!" Bash grinned with his classic boyish smile that always promised trouble. "What the hell are you doing here, Dev?" He asked as he vastly approached and embraced me in a tight hug. I returned the gesture with great enthusiasm and playfully punched his shoulder when he pulled back.
"Could say the same to you!" I smiled. "Nice uniform, pretty boy." I teased and he rolled his eyes. "Nice heels, delinquent." He countered making us both laugh. "Are my eyes tricking me or were you just about to walk into Styles Enterprises?"
"The universe is playing a trick on me." I moaned. "Long story that is far too early to bring up. How about you in the enemies uniform?" I asked, this time he let out a huff.
"My mum married up for money." He groaned. "Apparently fake blonde hair and implants earns the attention of wealthy men, who married her. He works here and when his reputation was threatened with my arrest for street racing he pulled a few strings. It was this or Juvie." He shrugged and I made a sound of understanding.
"So you're the..."
"Door man." He muttered out and I laughed abruptly. |
"You're kidding?" I scoffed, but he glared in seriousness. I blinked slowly, then laughed again, bending over and slapping my knee. "That's actually a job? Kissing the arses of trust-fundies? I thought that was just a mud-rud camp tale!" Bash tried to glare at me but his boyish dimple popped through, and soon enough he smiled in defeat.
"A few fake grins here and 'good evening ma'am there, beats sloshy prison food and company of hairy chests and man boobs in the showers." Bash reasoned, shaking his head with every word.
"I pity you." I playfully ruffled his hair.
"Morning Sebastian. Might I ask why you're out of place though?" We both froze at the familiar deep voice, and we turned to see Harry standing there watching us both.
"Ah, morning mister Styles." Bash saluted, shuffling back to the door and gesturing to the revolving doors. Harry nodded and then returned his attention to me. His eyes met mine and his smile grew.
"Devonne." He greeted and I meekly nodded. I was too busy shooting an accusatory look at Bash who responded to his real name, Sebastian, which he never responded to in all our years of friendship. "Really Bash?" I scoffed, making his eyes widen slightly.
"Sebastian." He corrected me, his eyes diverting to Harry, who was still smirking at me.
"Since when?" I retaliated. "We were thirteen and I was cleaning your cuts for the millionth time and said 'Bash' was more appropriate because you always get bashed up, and you've gone by it ever since!"
"Dev, I rea-" Bash started but Harry quickly cut him off.
"It's alright Sebastian." Quirking an eyebrow before back-tracking, "Bash." He corrected. "I am perfectly aware Dev here has a troubled background, and if she is friends of you, you must be of similar circumstance. I don't care, you give good service and that's all the matters." I stared at Harry mouth agape, and his dimple deepened at my reaction.
"Troubled background?" I spat. "Excuse moi?"
"No actually, you're not excused. You are meant to have your butt upstairs now." His cheeky grin made me scowl and I opened my mouth for a retort, but his hands met my shoulders, spinning me around and  pushed me towards the door.
"See you around, Bash." I waved and he gave a wry smile and salute. With a gentle nudge from Harry we entered a gap in the revolving door and spun around into the  foyer, Harry instantly leading us towards the elevator.
"You're late." Harry said crossing his arms as the elevator doors closed on us. I quirked a brow and snorted at him, earning the same gesture from him.
"Uh, hello? I was here before you." I stated.
"Uh, hello?" Harry mocked me. "I'm your boss. I have the authority to arrive whenever I please. You, on the other hand, not so much." His smile was all pride, and my scowl was all hatred.
"It's hard to work for you when you're not even here." I reasoned, and Harry shook his head with an amused curl of his lips.
"Devonne." His tone was calm and yet controlled. The perfect balance and power and professionalism. "I was just winding you up, relax yeah?" For some reason his comment angered me further, and I balled my fists at my sides. |
"It's not funny to me!" I growled, my tone catching Harry off guard. "This might be a job to you, but it's so much more to me, Harry." His eyes softened as he realised why it made me panic when he was joking about something that could lead to being fired. My mother had been fired for lack of punctuality before she bailed on us, and I knew perfectly well if I got fired, it would be the second woman to leave Geordie alone.
"Dev, I didn't think." Harry spoke softly. "I know this job means everything to you now. I'm sorry." The sincerity in his voice was strong, and I meekly nodded in acceptance of his apology, and he offered a shy smile.
"So what do you have planned for me today?" I changed the topic as the doors slid open, and we stepped out.
"The library." Harry smiled, his long legs carrying him quickly down the hall, and had me stumbling in my high boots to catch up. "The books are out of place and need to be arranged correctly." I paused outside the door as Harry pushed the doors open, and Harry spun to see what had me waiting.
"Is there a problem?" He questioned. It wasn't asked with sarcasm like a boss would with a reluctant employee, but with genuine concern as he assessed my frozen state.
"Are you...fabricating jobs for me, Harry? Out of pity, I mean." I stammered, feeling awfully embarrassed at the thought. "I know you feel guilty for what Dante has done, but I don't want you creating tasks for me to do out of pity." I shook my head, my pride showing up once again. Harry reached for me, and I  internally flinched, but remained still as his hands landed on my shoulders, and those ever-bright eyes stared into mine.
"Devonne, in case you weren't aware, my father is a precise man. He is big on order and structure, and presentation. He was never a fan of the original library, but occasionally he comes in here and looks for a book. I think it is his way of connecting with his father now that he is gone." I sighed softly in relief knowing he was being honest, and that this job was one his father had probably demanded, rather than a 'lets occupy the poor girl' task Harry had made up.
"Last night he made a visit, and wasn't impressed that it wasn't arranged in the correct sense. I had them ordered in genre, dad wants them ordered with the dewy system." I closed my eyes at his words, and Harry laughed as he saw the realisation dawn on my face.
"The entire library?"  I groaned, throwing my head back. Harry's arm slung around my shoulder and led us into the library. The room took my breath away the second time, and Harry smiled at me, as I took it all in.
"Chin up, sunshine." Harry grinned, punching my shoulder. "Think on the bright side!" I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"And what might that be?"
"Tell you what." Harry stood face to face with me. "I'll make it interesting for you. We can make a competition out of this." I gave him an incredulous look.
"Oh, let me guess. First to finish their half gets a cookie?" I clapped, and Harry's chest rumbled with laughter, sounding like cubes of ice tinkling around in a glass of water.
"No. The only competitor is you." He explained. "This job is going to take days in all honesty. My guess is at least three. In those three days pay attention to all the books we come across. If you can guess my favourite book correctly, you win. If you fail to guess, you lose." I shifted my weight to my other foot and crossed my arms across my chest.
"Something tells me the odds are slightly more in your favour. On the fact that I have to pick one out of hundreds. It's a needle in a hay-stack."
"Good thing you're a girl that likes a challenge then, huh?" He mused, his eyes glistening with playfulness.  I knew the chances of winning were slim. Very slim. But the competitive streak in me was tempted, and I found myself weighing my options up and down.
"And if I win?" I asked. Harry seemed to assess the question, before his eyes met mine and his smirk grew.
"If you lose," his  tone implied and I clucked my tongue, "you have to admit us trust-fundies aren't so bad, and I get to give you a rich kid wardrobe reinvention." I blasted out a laugh, and shook my head.
"No. Absolutely not. No way."
"Chicken?" Harry teased.
"Sensible. I could lie and say uptown kids aren't the thorn in my side," Harry's eyes crinkled with amusement, "but allowing you to dress me up as one of you? No way in God's green earth."
"I think you'd look good in a tight skirt and smart jacket. Or better yet, a pant-suit with a classic V-plunge line." His comment had me flushing, and I face palmed to hide it, but I figured he saw it.
"You don't think I rock the ripped jeans and plaid shirt look?" I fake pouted, and the infectious sound of his laughter resonated around the room.
"I think you'd look good regardless of what you would wear, or wouldn't," my eyes widened at his innuendo and his dimple deepened with satisfaction, "but I'd like to see you out of your comfort zone." Harry admitted, causing me to shake my head.
"Okay." I took a deep breath. "But when I win," I took a step closer, "you have to wear what I want you to, eat the greasiest mud-rud food I can find, and help me with moving when the hospital is moved." I held my hand out before him, and I saw him fighting back more laughter. His tongue slid across his pearly white teeth in contemplation, before his large, warm hand engulfed mine, and shook it in agreement.
"Deal."