Styles Towers.

S.O.S

While I lean on a pillar and do my best to stay away from conversations with everyone, essentially because I'm sick of getting pried for information on various matters, such as when Harry will be signing the new contracts, when the Christmas bonuses go out and when Harry will notify some of the staff they're fired. I had to assure two women that their husbands were not being fired and that they need to stop fretting.

I much preferred these things when I was merely a girlfriend and wife, not the fucking business Gooroo who just happens to be CAO and espoused to the CEO. If I had my time again I probably wouldn't have accepted working at Harry's company. It is becoming to be too much of a strain and hassle. I don't know how he has managed to deal with everything for so many years, it's no wonder he's cranky and a dick most the time.

A waiter endeavours me a smile as he displays a tray of champagne flutes, "ma'am, this is for you," he delivers me a white card, "from the man over there," he gestures towards Harry and I nod while I open the card to read it.

"Elise, meet me in room 21 on the 12th floor, I love you, darling. — Harry xx"

Perhaps this is his way of apologising for being an outright ass to me and not considering anyone else's feelings but his own. I was complaining to him that my back was giving me hell and he quite literally said, "Elise, you don't know hell until you've had shards of glass piercing into your skin while you're gasping for air. Take something for the pain and bugger off." He was an inconsiderate prick today, I guess not sleeping too well after last night has something to do with it.

All the broken pieces of the room still rest in the positions Harry left them in, I'm waiting for him to undividedly calm down and become level-headed before insinuating that he cleans it up.

I contemplate meeting him, he has been an ass and now isn't a time to whisk us away for him to apologise. I glance over to Harry, he's still at the bar on his own, watching and keeping to himself. We lock eyes and hold our stare for a moment before I take a breath and break our stare.

When I lose Harry in the area, I make way through everyone and exit through the heavy gold trim doors and into the marbled hallway.

*** ***

The elevator doors open and I step out into the carpeted hallway before I make my way down the corridor. I hear my name swiftly echo the walls' around me and I halt in my tracks and turn around to witness Anastasia.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I question, taking note as she seems just as equally as stunned to observe me here.

"I'm meeting Niall," her voice is low and delicate as she shifts a strand of hair behind her ear and I frown for a moment.

"Room twenty-one?"

Anastasia nods, staring at me with innocent and bewildered eyes; I presume the boys' are in this together. I am not sure what they are concocting, I can only assume I won't be getting that apology like I had anticipated.

I stand in front of the door and I hesitate for a moment. I chew on my bottom lip and glance towards Anastasia. I discover myself unsure of whether to open the door and wander in or to simply go back downstairs. Since this clearly isn't a one on one encounter with Harry and me, I don't foresee I will sustain the justification that he owes me.

I take a breath and shake away my thoughts, shaking them off as me being overly problematic and somewhat overly emotional.

I pull down on the handle and find it unlocked before I shift the door open.

My world freezes as my eyes meet the same tormenting rust-coloured eyes that I once stared into while pinned against a brick wall with a hand clamped to my mouth to keep me quiet.