Yes, Sir.

Chapter 7: Truce

CHAPTER 7

I wake up with a sense of determination, and as I get ready to leave for work I can't help smiling. I rummage through my closet until I find a navy blue dress that I haven't worn in awhile. It's shorter than most things I would wear but I find that refreshing more than anything else.

I zip open my makeup bag with an excited hand. All I apply is mascara, a light pink lipstick, and a little dab of blush but when I look into the mirror it's like I'm seeing a different person.

I even put my hair in a loose side braid instead of its usual bun. If I'm really doing this, might as well go full out, right?

I've only been in my office for five minutes before Harry walks in, his face set with determination. I raise my eyebrows in surprise, wondering what this could be about.

"Leah," he begins, still looking hard at the ground. "I mean, Miss Evans..."

"It's ok, Harry, you can call me Leah," I laugh lightly.

His head shoots up at the sound of my laughter, and his eyes widen as he looks at me for the first time this morning.

"Uh, wow, you look different," he blurts out.

I tilt my head. "I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not..."

"Yes, definitely a compliment," he mumbles so quietly I can barely hear him.

"What was that?"

"You just...I...you look nice today," he finally manages to say. He's barely blushing, but if when I look close enough I can see the slight tinge of pink coloring his cheeks.

How odd.

I scrunch my nose a little at his weird behavior, but let it slide. "Thank you, then," I reply.

"Anyways, the reason I came in here is because I just wanted to apologize about yesterday," he says, and my heart drops to my stomach. Damn, was it really that obvious that I had overheard his conversation with Louis?

"It's fine," I sigh, rearranging some random papers on my desk to avoid his gaze. "It's my fault, anyways. I shouldn't have been eavesdropping."

Harry shakes his head. "No, it's my fault. I should have never said that in the first place. It was cruel and uncalled for."

It's all I can do to keep my mouth from falling open in shock. Who is this man and what did he do with Harry Styles? I may have realized it was time to get my life together, but by the looks of it Harry certainly is trying as well.

"Thank you for apologizing," I say quietly.

"There's one more thing," he says, and I look up to meet his eyes. "I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, and I was wondering if you wanted to start over. Who knows, maybe we can even be friends."

I'm wondering if I should try to put my hand through him to make sure he's not a hologram or something. I don't know if he's on happy pills or what, but I like this version of Harry a hell lot better than the one I knew before.

"I would like that," I tell him with a small smile.

"Me, too. Especially since we'll be working together for a long time now," he adds.

My stomach flips with excitement. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

He places an envelope on my desk. "Congratulations, Leah, on not getting fired."