Shoot or lose

6

July 9th - 1995
New Jersey

Angel

I curse under my breath as I hastily finish painting my toenails, glancing anxiously at the clock. It's already 7:50 PM, and I'm supposed to start my shift at the casino in ten minutes. Fucking shiiiit.

For someone who prides herself on punctuality, this is a rare and nerve-wracking situation.

"Angel, you're cutting it close," Bruce's deep voice echoes from the hallway, his tone tinged by a hint of amusement.

I emerge from the room, hopping on one foot to put on my shoes. "Tell me about it," I reply, my voice strained with stress. "I can't believe I lost track of time."

Things haven't been as strange as I anticipated. However, they aren't exactly as l had envisioned either. On a normal day, I would have slept in the same room as Eric, we would have had sex in as many rooms as possible, but we haven't done either of those things.

And I'm not gonna lie. The only reason we haven't had sex yet is because it doesn't feel right. Strange, I know? But it feels like if I let him eat me out, l'm using him. And that's not what I want at all.

Will leans against the wall, his expression serious but a playful glint in his eye. "Lost track of time or got lost daydreaming? I heard Alice and the chains playing in the spare bedroom?"

I shoot him an exasperated look. "And if I was? I can multitask, okay? The polish just took long to dry."

"Next time, let us know you're planning a beauty session. We could have given you a heads-up."

I scoff, grabbing my bag and stuffing my essentials inside. "Yeah, next time I should warn you. You guys need a touch up as well." In my high heels, I stroll outside, leaving them to chuckle alone.

The drive to the casino is filled with more one-sided banter and occasional chuckles, the stress of being late slowly giving way to their shared humor.

"So, Angel," Bruce starts again, his voice teasing. "What you think the big bad boss you love to grumble about is gonna say? Is he gonna scold you to tears?"

I shake my head, but there's a smile on my lips. "Please Brucie...do you know me? That man is all bark and no bite. No need to worry, I won't ruin my makeup"

Will leans forward from the front seat. "Good luck."

As we approach the casino, I thank them for the ride, gifting them both with my rare tight hugs. As soon as I step inside the familiar hustle and bustle of the casino, I pull out my flip phone to check for any urgent texts.

Yes I'm getting better at working with this thing. I even know how to send a smiley face with the asterisks.

Beka: Where the hell are you, sugar?

Beka: Late again? This is not you. You have some explaining to do, young lady

Beka: You know what...I take back what I said. I love seeing the bosses face all screwed up in a frown

Beka: He's pissed, by the way

I roll my eyes in frustration, muttering under my breath, "Figures." Unbeknownst to me, as I look up, there he stands—Harry Styles himself, as stunning and arrogant as ever.

His presence is commanding, and I freeze for a moment, realizing my slip-up. My heart races, and I can feel a flush creeping up my neck as I try to gather myself. Did he know I was thinking and talking about him?

Harry's expression is unreadable, but there's a glint of amusement in his eyes as he leans casually against the top of the stairs. "Problem, Angel?" His voice is smooth.