CEO

8

Eve POV

"Wow, you actually showed." I remark to Harry who stands beside me.

"Don't remind me." The man mumbles. I grin to myself. "How much is a ticket?"

"It's free." His eyebrows knot together. "My brother owns the place." I mention.

"You get free coffee at the foster centre, now free entrance to a club, what else?"

"Free meals at the diner." His head shakes. "Like what I said, I have my ways." I hum.

I walk him to my usual booth here and I sit down. He's wearing slacks and a white button up shirt that's tucked into his paints. "Did you just come from work?" I question.

"No, why?" He asks. I chuckle. "What's funny?"

"Even when you go out, you still manage to look all bossy." I remark with a grin. "Don't you own anything casual?"

He looks down at his outfit. "These are my casual slacks." I smile at him and shake my head. "What?"

"Jeans? A tee shirt?"

"Why would I wear that?" Harry says in disgust.

"Because it's causal." I say.

"I have my causal slacks." Harry says like it's normal.

"What's causal about them? They look like your other slacks."

"These are looser fitting." He tells me.

"Wow, living on the edge I see." I remark. I hear him release a chuckle making me grin to myself at how I finally made him laugh or made him show any form of emotion.

"This is the most causal thing I own." Harry says.

"You don't own sweatpants?" I ask.

"I own pyjama pants."

"That's casual."

"I wouldn't wear that out of my home." Harry says. "I have shorts that I run in and go to the gym in, that's about it."

"When you food shop you wear slacks?" I ask.

"I have a cook." My eyes narrow at him.

"A cook?" He nods like it's normal.

"Her name is Julianna. I call her Anna."

"Do you have a maid?"

"Of course." My eyes narrow at him again. "What?"

"Do you at least do your own laundry?"

"Why would I do that? My maid does." I lean back in the booth and huff. Our waiter comes and asks if we'd like a drink. I say a Pepsi and Harry says scotch.

"Why am I not surprised you're getting a scotch?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you take your coffee black so I'd assume you like hard liquor. And rich men like that expensive, gross, shit." His eyebrow raises at me. "Have you not heard a swear before Mr. Styles?"

"Not really from women."

"Well, that's probably because the women you hangout in wear pearls around their neck and talk about gardening and whatever rich people do."