Harry Styles' P.A

Perfume

It's been two weeks since I moved in with Harry. The first week was mostly touring around the city to get familiar with it and going through all of that fanmail. Harry loves all of the fanmail but he was also dissapointed. Dissapointed that he could never answer all of those letters, or thank all of his fans for the fanart, the gifts, anything. So by the end of the first week I asked him if he wanted to do a livestream with his favorites from all ten bags of fanmail and though reluctantly, he agreed to that.

I had set everything up for him to be in a decently lit spot, the video quality as good as it could be, while I sat off-screen with a laptop on my lap to read out questions from the fans watching the live stream. All together we had a pretty good night. The fans got almost 2 hours of unfiltered Harry, who , for the occasion,had dressed up in some silly fluffy onesie with bunny ears on the hood. There were lots of Harry related posts on twitter the day after.

The second week was mostly studio time, talks with management and other, less exciting stuff. Now it's the monday of my third week here and I'm running errands. Harry slept in this morning and will be hitting the gym after. He did invite me to hit the gym with him, but being his p.a, I have other things to do today. After making sure he would have a decent breakfast or brunch when he would wake, I did the dishes and laundry. After that I took the sub downtown to pick up his drycleaning. I was glad I wouldn't have to carry that back to Harry's house, since Steven is only a call away, so I just put everything I pick up in the car.

The next thing on my list is shopping. And that's possibly the weirdest thing ever. Shopping for Harry. He has litteraly send me a list with pictures of the exact piece of clothing he wants and at wich store to get it. Wich means I'm walking into some highbrand stores I could never afford, but all I have to do is say it's for Harry and every employee is running. Wich is quite funny. When they seem to be out of stock of a certain piece, they go out of their way to order it and have it send to Harry's management office. At most of these shops I get bags full of freebies, wich I assume are for Harry, to thank him for being a loyal costumer, probably. It's weird.

Last thing to do is groceries. We really need to stock up on some things and I need to get ingredients for dinner too. Harry insists on cooking every other night, so we take turns, and today it's my turn to cook. I've adapted to the vegetarian/ pescetarian lifestyle quite well, simply because it was easier to not cook two different dishes. I now eat mostly pescetarian as well, apart from the occasional burger I eat when I'm on errands.

My daydreaming about the last two weeks comes to a halt when I see a ball bounce off the sidewalk and on to the road. I'm instantly on high alert, because I just know there will be a kid coming out of the crowd anytime now, to run after his ball. I step to the edge of the sidewalk and watch as a seven or eight year old boy dashes out of the crowd. I lunge forward, glad I'm wearing comfortable shoes. Just before he runs onto the traffic filled road, I grab his arm and pull him back. The ball is lost, nowhere to be seen.

"Woah, carefull buddy! You can't just run into traffic like that! You'd get hit by a car!"

The boy looks up to me with piercing blue eyes and a pout around his lips.

"But....but my ball..."

I'm still holding his arm, looking around for a parent that must certainly be looking for their son. But the sidewalk is quite crowded at this time of day. I look down at the kid.

"I know you were going after your ball, kid, but it's dangerous to run onto the road. Your parents can buy you a new ball, but they can't buy a new you."

"Oi! Whot the fook are you doin'! Le'go of me boy!"

Someone shouts at me angrily and with a really thick Yorkie accent, something I really didn't expect to hear in L.A, and surprised I look up. Into another pair of piercing blue eyes.

"Daddy!"

Daddy?

Oh shit.

"Freddie?" I gasp. Because the angry man in front of me is no other than Louis frickin' Tomlinson. What's he doing here?

"The fook is wrong wiff you! Let go!"

Louis yanks Freddie away from me and shoves his son behind him. His entire bodylanguage tells me he's ready to fight me if I give him a reason to. He's quite scary when he's angry.

"Woah, calm down. I wasn't doing anythin'."

He steps closer to me, almost getting in my face, but then looks around and knows he can't make a scene, because it will be all over the internet in mere minutes.

"Wha'd you mean, nothin'. Wha' 'er ya holdin' me boy for?"

I sigh as I try to stay calm. I've never done well with false accusations and he glares at me as if I was trying to kidnap the kid.

"Well, if you would've given me a chance to explain myself, I could've told you I prevented your kid from being run over by a car."

"Wha'?"

He turns around to Freddie and crouches down to be at eye level with his son.

"Freddie ,my boy. Wha' 'appened?"

The boy seems to be feeling guilty because he looks at the ground instead of at his father and mumbles something.

"Speak up luv."

"My ball bounced away and it bounced onto the road. I didn't want to be naughty daddy.....I just wanted to get my ball."

Louis sighs, mumbles something to his son and, after a gentle squeeze in Freddie's shoulder he gets up and faces me again.

"My sincerest apologies. You saved 'is life and I nearly bit your 'ead off then. I'm sorry, really."

I shrug.

"I get it. It's normal to protect your kid. You're a proper motherbear."

"Whooot? A mo' erbear? I 'ave a dick y'know?"

He says it with a crooked smile though, so I know he's not actually upset. But I snort and quickly cover my mouth with my hand.

"Whot ah' you laughin' at? Is it me accent? Yea, it's fonneh innit?"

Now he does sound a little annoyed and I quickly shake my head.

"No, no, not at all. I love your accent. I'm no Yorkie, but it's the closest thing to home since I got here. I'm just laughing that you'd get upset about being called a motherbear. It's the biggest compliment when it comes to protecting your children. One does not mess with a motherbear. Proper scary, that."

Louis purses his lips in that typical v-shaped smile I've seen on pictures so often and there's a sparkle of some sort in his eyes.

"Fanks, I guess then."

He hesitates.

"I don't really 'ave much time, but why don' you gi'me your adress, and I'll make me asshole be'aviour up to you, yea? I'll send you some flowers or sumfing."

I frown. I can't exactly give him Harry's adress. Or the adress of the management office.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

"Why's tha'?

I bite my lip. How much can I say? I mean, it's Louis. But people aren't suposed to know I'm living with Harry. The only reason the paps haven't caught on to that is because they simply aren't allowed to be in that neighborhood.

"Well....uh....at the moment, I'm currently living with my boss, because there's a problem with my appartment. And I can't really give you his adress, also because people are not suposed to know I'm living with him, because they might get the wrong idea."

He rubs his chin with his indexfinger, frowning.

"I see. Gi'me your nomber then. I'll give you a call tonigh' and maybe we can mee' op somewhere so I can make it up to ya, yea?"

He wants my number? Louis Tomlinson wants my number?

"You really don't have to-"

"Oh com'on. Give it a rest, luv. You saved me boy's life and I was an arse abou' it, atleas' lemme fank you and make up for me bad be'aviour."

I sigh. He's persistent and even when he's not it's hard enough to tell him no. I curl and uncurl my fingers fast, motioning him to give me his phone. He unlocks it and goes to the "add contact" tab in his phone before he hands it to me. I quickly put in my name and number and hand it back.

"I really gotta go now. Bye Louis. Be carefull next time, eh Freddie?"

I tussle the boy's hair and dissapear in the crowd. My heart is racing. What are the odds of me, being Harry's p.a, running into Louis Tomlinson? What's he even doing in L.A?

................

Harry has decided I can keep all of the freebies I got while shopping today, and after protesting a bit I accept it and thank him and start making dinner . We are just in the middle of dessert, when my phone rings.

"Oop, that's me. Mind if I take that?"

I've already halfly gotten up, taken my phone out of my pocket, while looking at Harry with raised eyebrows. He smiles and shakes his head.

"You're off the clock, Lilly. You don't have to ask permission."

"Just being polite."

I quickly tap the green button, even though the caller ID is hidden. Secret number, it seems.

"Hello, Lilly speaking."

"Hi luv, is this a good time to call?"

Louis. I quickly glance at Harry, who is focussed on some magazine about perfume making, wich makes sense since we'll be going to the perfume factory tomorrow, and walk away into the garden.

"Yea, I was just finishing up with dessert. You wanted to meet up? What did you have in mind?"

"Well, we can't really go to a crowded place. There'd be paps allovah. But I know this li'l cafe tha's pre' 'y secluded. When do ya 'ave time?"

I look over my shoulder, inside. Harry has moved to the couch with his magazine and now seems to be making notes in the sidelines of it.

"I'd have to check my schedule and my boss's. Gimme a sec."

I walk back inside and slide the tablet that was on the table my way, turning it horizontally to face me. I move my phone to my left hand and ear, since I'm so right handed, my left hand is practically useless, and unlock the tablet. The schedule is already open. Nothing on thursday.

"I could probably be there on Thursday if that works for you. I'll ask my boss."

"Is he there?"

"Yea, but if Thursday doesn't work for you, there's no point in asking him."

By now Harry is looking at me, curious, eyebrows slightly down in a questioning frown, expecting me to ask him a question, but I'm waiting for Louis.

"Yea, Thursday's fine luv."

"Allright, hold on, I'll ask."

I press my phone to my chest so Louis shouldn't be able to hear Harry's voice. I somehow have the feeling I would get caught up in whatever is going on between them if either of them know who I'm talking to.

"Do you need me on Thursday? I see the schedule is empty then, but maybe you have plans that aren't in here?"

"No you have the day off. I was going to hang out with Niall since he's in town then."

I smile at him. I love Niall. Sweet, funny, Irish teddybear.

"Oh sweet! I love Niall. We'll both go out then."

Harry glances at my phone as I bring it to my ear.He seems to be studying my expression ever since I implied I'd be going out.

"You there still?"

"Obviously."

"Thursday is fine. What time do you want to meet up?"

"Is 2 p.m workin' for ya? I'll buy us lunch yea?"

"Sounds great. Send me the adress?"

"Yea sure. See ya Thursday then."

"See you Thursday."

I hang up with a smile. It's almost like I'm going on a bloody date with Louis. The thought alone makes me giggle. Ridiculous. I catch Harry staring at me, smiling slightly but the smile isn't real. He looks worried, unsure.

"You're going on a date?"

I shake my head.

"No, not really. Just grabbing lunch with someone I ran into this afternoon."

Harry's frown grows deeper.

"A girl?"

"No."

Now he's looking really worried. Like how a decent father would look when his seventeen year daughter says she has a date. Not that I know what that looks like. My father wasn't decent and my stepfather and I never had those moments together, because I didn't want to bother him with it. Either way, Harry's expression is somewhere in the middle of angry and scared.

"You're gonna grab lunch with a guy you just met today? Do you even know his name?"

Ha. So do you cupcake.

"Yea......(fuck, I can't say it's Louis, think fast!) William. Will. It's actually and old acquaintance. I just didn't know he was in L.A."

"So you know him then?"

So do you.

"Yes. Well enough to know I'll be safe. Why are you so worried anyway?"

Harry gets up from the couch with a sigh, tosses the magazine on the coffeetable and walks over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders and staring me in the eye with a concerned look.

"American guys are not as gentlemenlike as British guys. They're quite straightforward and I'm afraid you'll get hurt."

"Good thing he's from Yorkshire then."

Harry cocks his eyebrow and slightly tilts his head.

"Hm. What are the odds of running into one of your English acquintances in the middle of L.A?"

What are the odds indeed. Of me, being Harry's p.a, and then run into Louis. In the middle of L.A. Quite the turn of events.

"Yea, I was surprised too. But he wanted to buy me lunch, so...."

Harry nods and lets go of my shoulders, turning to the couch again, but says, "Bring pepperspray though, will ya?"

I snort. He's being ridiculous. But when he glances over his shoulder with his eyebrows raised, I nod anyway. If that reassures him, then why not. It's not like I'll have to use it. I put the dishes in the dishwasher and wipe the counter, and then I go to the couch as well, talking about Harry's ideas for his perfumes till late at night.

..............

The next day, 11 a.m, we arrive at the perfume factory that will help Harry develop his perfumes. The day will consist out of seeing how the perfume process works, sniffing some samples and a meeting where Harry will explain his vision for what his perfumes should smell like. Strangely enough Jeffrey isn't involved in any of this, but we'll have a meeting with him tomorrow about the promotion for Harry's perfumes. I never realised how much work goes into one perfume or cologne and Harry is doing two at once. Overachiever.

The whole factory is surprisingly light. I imagine factories to be grey and dull and smelly, but this factory is completely white and looks more like a massive science lab than a factory. There's a lot of rooms with big glass windows where there are actually people in white labcoats who are staring into microscopes or swirling liquids of different shades and colors in little testubes. It looks very impressive.

In the middle of the big entree hall there's a woman in a labcoat who has this sort of serving cart in front of her, but instead of coffee and tea, there's small flasks with different kinds of labels on them. It intrigues me, but Harry is in deep conversation with the factory CEO and his assistant. So I feel like I need to stay by his side. Ofcourse I underestimate how perceiving Harry is. He shoots me a few glances. And some of them I notice. But apparently he also sees my eagerness and curiosity towards the little bottles.

"What are those little flasks over there? I'm very curious. It looks intriguing."

He glances at me and smirks, and I know he saw how curious I am. He gestures at me to go first and I have to conciously try to not run over and instead try to elegantly glide towards the woman with the flasks. Who had apparently also seen something on my face, because she doesn't even give me a chance to ask anything.

"These are samples. Of every scent we can and have extracted here. As you can see there's a lot. We have at least a hundred and fifty different scents. Ofcourse they can be mixed to achieve the eventual perfume we try to create. Would you like to smell some?"

"Oh, can I?!"

So far for staying calm. I sound like a kid in a candy store. I hear Harry and the CEO chuckle next to me and look at Harry with a blush burning on my cheeks.

"Sorry Mr. Styles.", I mumble as I look at my bright red pumps. The CEO, I think his name is Mr Shaffer, starts laughing.

"You have a very sweet and enthousiastic assistant, mr Styles. If only half of the personal assistants were so involved in their job, it would make the jobs for their bosses a lot easier don't you think. And she's pretty too."

I have no idea how to respond to that, mostly because the way he says it sounds off.  I'm blushing, and I've just decided I should probably thank mr Shaffer for the compliment, even if I feel really uncomfortable at the moment, because that's the polite thing to do, but Harry clears his troath so I look at him instead.

"I would appreciate if you didn't talk about my P.A like that. She's standing right here and you're making her uncomfortable."

Mr Shaffer snorts.

"Come on now, mr Styles. You can't deny she's pretty. And with proper clothes I think I'd even say she'd be sexy. But that's probably why she's your P.A, isn't it?"

Now I'm really uncomfortable. I quickly glance at the other assistant, who doesn't seem comfortable either. It's a pretty young thing for an assistant, can't be older than 24, and she's dressed like the typical romance novel kind of secretary. The kind that wants her boss between her legs. But the expression on her face makes me think her outfit is more a job requirement than a personal choice. Definitely since her boss might be a pervert. I glance at mr Shaffer, who is boldly looking me up and down with a hungry look as his tongue flicks over his lips. The athmosphere is very, very awkward and even more tense. Harry is getting angry next to me and the CEO keeps undressing me with his eyes like I'm his dessert.

Ew. Now I'm just scared. I want to get out of here.

"No need to get so defensive Harry. I understand why you'd want her all to yourself."

Okay, now I'm pissed. I hear Harry exhale through his nose in a very aggitated way but before he can say anything, I adress the perv myself.

"Excuse me. That's mr Styles for you. And I decide for myself who can have me all to himself. Not you. Not Harry. And if I would be choosing between you and Harry, I can guarantee you, Harry doesn't have any competition at all."

The tension breaks when mr Shaffer's assistant snorts and nervousy giggles behind the hand she quickly slapped over her mouth. Harry puts his right hand in a fist on his side and turns to me without moving his feet as he cocks his head to the left. The result is him halfly twisted, slightly leaning to his left as he looks at me. He has a massive grin on his face and raises his eyebrows at me. And then he starts chuckling. I see it more than I hear it. I don't hear him at all actually, but the way his body is shaking and he's squeezing his eyes shut make it obvious that he is , in fact, quietly laughing. Mr Shaffer's face has turned purple. Be it in anger or emberassment, I don't really care. Harry turns to him again with a grin.

"Well, now that that's settled, maybe my brilliant p.a should look for another perfume factory so I can take my bussiness somewhere else?"

I grab the tablet from my shoulderbag and mr Shaffer starts to visibly panic. We all know this deal he has with Harry is very lucrative for his bussiness, since his company would be mentioned on every single bottle, and in the promotional commercials we plan to make. Harry chose this factory because it's a small, local developer that he wanted to help out. But apparently he changed his mind, so I start browsing for other, small, local perfume developers with good reviews, as the CEO in front of us is trying to save his face.

"Please, mr Styles! I'm sure that won't be nessecary. It was a harmless-"

"You're a sexist pervert." Harry cuts him off. "I do not appreciate how you talk to women. Or about them for that matter. So either you exclude yourself from this process, or I will take it somewhere else."

"Ex- exclude?" Mr Shaffer stutters.

"Yes." Harry says firmly. "I do not want your opinion. I do not want your mingling. Your assistant will take your place. You will not talk to mrs. Lanshire. Not a syllable. And if you get within six feet of her I will take you out of bussiness completely. Are we clear?"

Holy shit....Harry's standing up for me? Willing to start all over again because of me? Threatening a factory CEO even?

"Mr Styles...." I hesitantly say.

He doesn't look at me but just raises a finger to signal me to be quiet as he eyes the now really emberassed CEO.

"I said, are we clear?"

Harry repeats. And I just forgot how intimidating this guy can be. He's usually such a splarkly, bubbly and kind person, that I forgot how stern, hard and cold he can be if needed. At the moment he's giving up serious Daddy vibes. Wich is exciting to me. I mean, yes, Daddy, please, but mr Shaffer looks at the floor like a beaten up puppy.

"Yes, mr Styles. I'll be in my office. If you need anything, please let Stephanie call me and I'll make sure you have everything you need."

And with that he turns on his heels and leaves us with the lab woman and said Stephanie, his assistant. Harry's attitude changes the second he leaves and he becomes all soft and smiles again. He turns to face me.

"There. Carry on. What do you want to sniff first?"

"Harry...."

"Me? That's a little unorthodox don't you think? We've got company."

He smirks at me a little naughty, his eyes twinkling when I blush red hot.