𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 :: 𝐡𝐞𝐬

2.3

As we arrive to the club, I can here the loud bumping music from down the block. The smell of weed and hard liquor lingers in the air. Harry held my hand as we made our way through the door.

"Who exactly are we meeting?" I ask.

"Some work friends," Harry says, not giving me enough information.

I shrug it off and nod slightly.

"Baby, don't worry," Harry says to me softly over the loud music.

I nod again, chewing on my lip.

"Here, let's get you something to drink," Harry says.

He leads me to the bar and waits for the bartender to take the order. I can't hear what Harry ordered but I watched intently as the women working the bar pulled out a shot glass and a large bottle. The clear liquid reached the brim as she steadily poured the drink. The small glass was pushed my way and she began making another one.

Harry nodded towards the shot. I grab the cold glass and held it up to my nose.  The bitter smell was familiar. I hardly ever drink but I can tell this is vodka. I press the glass to my parted lips and quickly tilted my head back. The drink sent a chill through my spin as it burned my throat as I swallowed it.

"Thank you," Harry told the bartender as he grabbed the shot she fixed for him.

She winked in response. Harry rolled his eyes as he took the shot like it was nothing. He slammed the glass down on the sticky counter of the bar.

Girls in short dresses tipsily pranced around the dance floor as intoxicated men grinned against them.

"Cmon love," Harry said grabbing my hand and leading my toward a large booth in the corner of the club.

A large sign stood beside the luxurious table that read 'reserved for Mr.Styles'. An ice bucket filled with several bottles of expensive looking booze sat on the table. Harry must have spent a lot of money to rent this booth. This must be important.

"Harry, this is crazy" I say as I take a seat on the plush cushion.

"What is?" Harry asks nonchalantly.
He sits next to me and places a hand on my bare leg.

"This table. It's got to be the nicest table in the building. How much did it cost to rent this?" I ask.

"Baby, I own this table. I know a guy who works here. I can get you anything you need here. Is there a drink you want?" He responds.

My eyes dart to meet his. Harry is so laid back and relaxed. I can tell he is in his element because he's so comfortable here. I can't help but wonder how many other girls he's brought to this same table and offered the same thing. I ignore my negative thoughts but I still don't answer him.

"How about a glass of champagne?" He offers  before I could respond, as he digs through the bucket.

He pulls out a large bottle. His eyes scan the table for a champagne glass but they were no where to be found.

"Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with all these drinks if I can't even get a fucking glass to drink out of?" he mutters.