Wicked Obsession

7.

Monday, July 15

I really fucking hate Mondays, not to mention this one is turning out to be particularly shitty so far and it's only 8 A.M.

Let me start from the beginning.

All day yesterday Claire ignored me and refused to tell me what was bothering her. (One of the many stupid ass games she likes to play.) This morning I finally convinced her to talk to me and I really wish I hadn't.

Apparently she saw me get out of Harry's car Saturday night and thought it was some kind of date. She then went off about how I always am jealous of her and I just try to ruin every good thing in her life. Which is bullshit because 1. There have been a few times she has hooked up with a guy I'm talking to just to throw it in my face and 2. Why the fuck would I try to take Harry from her?

The more she yelled, the more pissed off I got and in the end, I told her she was being fucking ridiculous and walked out with her still yelling behind me.

The bad luck continues when I stand outside in the freezing rain and am not able to hail a cab. I end up walking a few blocks before I can find one and I'm nearly soaked.

Now here I am, walking into Acerbus Enterprises, turning almost every head to my atrocious wetness, heading to the second floor to return the file that Harry somehow knew I stole. I spent almost all night Saturday thinking about how he could have possibly known, there aren't any cameras and no one on that floor knows me. I still haven't gotten an answer and it drives me mad and makes my skin crawl all at once.

I step out onto the second floor and before my mind can even process the situation, I feel a heavy smack against my cheek that makes my eyes water and turns my head.

Cupping my cheek I turn to see the curly haired blonde woman who let me into the archive room on Saturday. She looks livid as she raises her hand to slap me again. I dodge it easily and glare harshly at her.

"Hit me again and I'll ruin your pretty face."

She purses her lips and jabs a finger in my chest. "You cost me my fucking job!"

What the...

I glance behind her and notice her stuff in a few small boxes. Fucking Harry. I haven't even seen him yet and he's already causing me grief. I give the blonde the most empathetic expression I can muster (considering she just fucking hit me in the face) and calmly reply.

"Look, I'm sorry about your job and I'll try to see if Harry will give you it back—"

She scoffs, cutting me off. "Harry? You call Mr. Styles by his first name? I guess being his secretary it would make sense that you were fucking him."

With that, I completely lose my cool and shove her out of my face.

"Screw you." I spit. "Not everyone fucks their way up the social ladder."

There are multiple gasps from the bystanders watching our fight and the blonde narrows her eyes. In a matter of seconds she pounces on me, sending us toppling to the ground. She tries to dig her nails into my skin and pull my hair but I'm too quick. I roll us over to where she is beneath me and do my best to pin her arms down. I'm not about to fight some prissy bitch.

She flails and manages to smack me again, much harder and probably leaving a mark. Okay, that's it. I raise my fist to retaliate but suddenly strong hands yank me away from her and to my feet.

"What the fuck is going on here?" His deep British tone echoes in the now silent hall and no one makes a move to answer.

He focuses his green eyes on me, clearly waiting for an explanation. I look over to the blonde and see that she has gotten up and looks absolutely terrified to have been caught by Harry.