a taste like kiwi ↠ [h.s]

Ⅲ. Say My Name

  ↠  

"You'll change your mind, they always do."

Mr. Styles's words echoed in your head as your heels walked down the hallways of the building. With Mr. Styles's bullet coffee in one hand, and a file in the other, your mind was distracted by the flashes of images of your encounter with Mr. Styles. His bare chest open to you, the ink on his skin exposed for your viewing. Even if his intention was to seduce you, you couldn't help but feel hot thinking about how your hand glided across his chest. 

You caught yourself biting onto your lower lip.

"(Y/N)?"

You stopped in your tracks, turning around and catching eyes with a familiar face. Bright blue eyes, creamy light skinned, and shoulder lengthen blonde hair. Except, when you first saw her, she had long blonde hair that draped down her back. When it clicked into your mind who it was, you felt yourself stiffen. Layla Grayson walked up to you, her slim figure walking gracefully toward you. She smiled at you but her words were stern, "Ah, yes, it is you. (Y/N) (Y/L/N). How are you adjusting?"

"Mr. Styles is quite intimidating." You said honestly.

Ms. Grayson chuckled, "I hope it's not anything you can't handle. I did personally hire you thinking you can handle the pressure." You hadn't noticed, but her arm tucked under yours. Before you could muster what was going on, she was leading you away from the direction from your office. Layla said softly, "In all honesty, I didn't know you were so beautiful. I couldn't judge someone base on their looks, only their resumes." 

You couldn't make out the right words to say, "Oh--well--thank you--I think."

Ms. Grayson grinned sweetly, "Mr. Styles hasn't said anything about your performance, which I shouldn't be surprised, it's only your third day working here."

"Well...I hope my best is good enough for him." You smiled a bit.

Ms. Grayson didn't reply as she led you through an open door. Once you stepped in, the natural sunlight struck your eyes. There was a glass table, presumably a desk because of the desktop computer and office essentials neatly placed on it. The colors of the room were red and white, and if it weren't the same size as Mr. Styles's office, it was larger. Your heels stepped onto the large rug, where you stood. Layla walked around her desk and sat down before signaling you to sit. You decided on one of the chairs on the opposite side of her desk, where clients would sit. 

Ms. Grayson said with a cold shift of tone, "Are you aware to what happened to Harry's former assistant?"

Ms. Grayson's radiant blue eyes locked onto yours.

You replied with no lie, "I've heard a rumor."

"It's no rumor." She sighed, "Although my fiancé has a ring locked down on his finger, it can't be helped that he tends to fall out of line." Her fingers intertwined together before her chin rested on them as a perch. Her smile appeared again, "So I'm trusting that you can say no. I'm trusting that you love your job more than cock stuffed between yours legs." 

You looked at her.

Her words were dangerously sweet, the kind of tone everyone would be on high alert for. You nodded with spoken words, "I understand Ms. Grayson."