Undercover Summer

Chapter 25-

Chapter 25-

Hailie's POV

Since it was only around 12:30, there weren't many people in the place. I walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender didn't even card me. Should I take that as a bad sign?

"So what are you having?" the scruffy looking guy asked, he was in his mid-forties.

"Hard liquor, please. Anything really, not picky."

"You sure a small thing like you can handle a drink?"

"You sure I'm not five seconds from walking out and finding a better place to get hammered?" I asked back, mockingly. He chuckled and got me a glass. I made sure to watch it, so he didn't like drug it or anything. He pushed it towards me.

I slowly lifted it to my lips, and drained it dry. I slammed the glass down on the counter. No point in stalling the inevitable. It burnt the whole way down, and my insides soon became bubbly.

"Another?" the guy asked, already filling it again.

"Keep 'em coming," I said, taking the glass gratefully from him.

"So why is a pretty girl like you getting drunk in the middle of the day? Broken heart?" he asked and leaned over on the counter.

"Long story."

"Does it look like I have any other costumers?" he stood up and gestured to the room. There was a fellow in a suit sipping a beer a few stools from me, and a drunk in the corner with a bottle of whiskey.

"Oh alright, fine. But you can't make fun of me and you must agree with whatever I say, unless you have some kind of advise," I paused and gave him a look," that's helpful, understand?"

He nodded and pulled out a stool from who knows where and rested his chin on his hand. "Please continue."

"A few months ago I entered a contest to come and intern at a magazine here in London. When I got here, along with two of my friends, the editor gave me my first big assignment. I had to apply to be a certain celebritie's personal assistant. I got the job. Soon I became friends with the rest of him and the rest of his band. He was only a year older than me, the rest of them a few years or two. Then, in a dare, we kissed. I fell in love with the guy. And we began dating, casually. But then, I call my editor about the story I had to write and tell her I don't want to do it because I was totally head over heels for the guy I was lying, too. She warns me that I was just another 'slang' to him and it meant nothing. So I stupidly believe her, break it off with him, write the article and leave. To make matters worse some crazy bimbo switches my story for hers and it makes me look bad because she went on and on about how ugly and terrible their band was."

"Oh, and my two friends get with two of the guys from his band, too. But they are happily dating. Just today, my girls lied about going on a date with them, and left me at home. And I followed them and caught them at it. Can I get any lamer? I'm so pathetic," I finish my rant and put my head in my hands.

"Wow, that was a long story, but not half as bad as some of the tales I hear working in a bar. Honey, you need to talk to him. Go to him and tell him everything you just told me. If he turns down the chance to be with a gal like you, forget him and move on. It obvious you love him and regret what you did, if he really loves you, which I'm sure he does, he will forgive you," he said, standing up.

"Here's my number, if you ever need a free therapist again. Now get your skinny butt up, walk out that door, and get a cab. Go straight to him," he handed me a card and pointed to the door. I took it and handed him much more money than I needed to. He deserved it.

"Good luck, sweetheart!" he called as he got the business man another drink and sat in front of him. I now have a new respect for bartenders. It was like I had a mini therapy session.

I walked outside and flagged down a taxi. He asked me where I was going and I told him the address to Harry's flat. I took my phone out and saw that I had a million missed calls and text messages. I had been gone for over two hours.

'Where are you? I thought you were staying in.' Emma had sent, twenty times.

'Hailie, we are worried, get a hold of one of us. NOW! We are all scared.' Vera sent, multiple times.

'Answer us!' Niall and Louis had texted about twelve times. Why was everyone so worried? I'm an adult and they aren't my babysitters.

"Here we are, miss," the driver said, slowing down. I handed him some money and got out. I took a deep breath, before heading inside. I really must be drunk if I'm doing this, though I only had two drinks.

I made my way up the stairs. My pace slowed as I neared his door. Thump. Thump. Thump. My heartbeat so loud, someone walking by me could probably hear it. I knock three times.

I looked down at myself and realized I looked like a skanky bimbo. 'Nice choice of clothing, you whore' I thought to myself. Oh well. I stood there and waited for what seemed like eternity, before someone answered the door.

"Hailie?" his deep voice asked, as I looked up into his wide green eyes.