*Willow's POV*
Lounged across the couch, Harry's head on my chest and the wind blowing through the open back doors it's hard to imagine a time before this. A time before the "I love you's" and the dinner dates. But even as I ran my fingers through his curls and his breathing grew heavy, as he fell asleep my mind could still wonder back.
Back to the old Us.
Back when we first got into all of this.
A voice I didn't recognize pulled my attention from the computer screen, up to the face of a beautiful blonde. "Oh, I'm sorry! How can I help you?"
"Yes, is Harry in?" She asked, her voice velvety and soft.
"Mr. Styles?...Yes, ma'am... do you have an appointment?" I asked, forcing myself to remain impassive and professional but my subconscious prickled with jealous curiosity. Why was she here to see Harry? Who is she?
"No, but will you just let him know I'm here."
"he's a very busy man."
"Sweetie, tell him Krystal is here and we'll see if he's busy." She shot back.
Raising my eyebrows, I fought the urge to react and turned around, picking up the phone and ringing Harry's office line.
"Yes?" His voice came through the phone, sharp and impatient.
"Someone is here to see you," I said, my voice quiet.
"Do they have an appointment?" He asked.
"No, her name's Krystal and I can tell her to leave if-,"
"Send her in,"
My jaw almost dropped, "Without an-"
"Did I stutter?" Harry hung up, the line going dead.
My inner ego prickling, I turned back to where "Krystal" was leaned against the front desk, smiling smugly.
"he's got an opening. you can go in," I said, curtly.
"Thought so," She said, sending me a fake smile and waltzing through the door as if she just accomplished some great feat.
bitch.
Willow, Harry is a fully grown man. He can have female associates.
Associates? yes, associates.
Forcing myself to ignore the nagging irritation, I began scheduling next months events, meetings, and Harry's trip to Japan.
but my subconscious wasn't having it, glancing at the clock every five minutes and growing more uneasy as the time passed.
It had been over an hour when Krystal finally reappeared. Her makeup noticeably smudged and her hair disheveled.
I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. Harry is not my property and I will not concern myself with his choices.
As I confirmed the return flight for his trip on the 30th, the phone rang obnoxiously.
"Mr. Styles office, how can I help you?"
"Willow, can you come in here?" Harry asked, seemingly in a better mood than earlier.
"Very busy, Mr. Styles." I answered, "is there anything specific that I can do for you?
"Oh, anything-"
"If not, have a nice day," I cut him off, my voice sickly sweet as I hung up the phone.
Behind me, the door swung open and suddenly my courage was gone. Freezing, I listened as Harry's footsteps drew nearer. Feigning innocence, I glanced up, "Mr. Styles-"
But Harry wasn't having it, "A word. my office."
Taking a deep breath, I stood and followed as he stomped back into his office.
"Have a seat," Harry said, curtly. Shrugging off his suit jacket and crossing his arms. "As a man of understanding, I will give you the opportunity to explain yourself."
Crossing my legs, I clenched my hands together gripping so tightly my knuckles turned white, I looked up and asked, "What happened?"
"I'm nor sure you understand what the word 'explain' means and I'm sure don't I know what you're referring to." He responded, his tone condescending.
"Krystal," I said, struggling to keep my voice even, "What happened while she was in here? What were the two of you doing in here? and why did she come back out looking like she had just driven a motorcycle down the freeway?"
