Mine {h.s.}

One

I spilt my coffee. It's my first day and I have already spilt my coffee! How am I supposed to be Harry Styles' personal assistant, with all the responsibility I have to take on for this job, and not even be careful enough to keep my coffee contained?

"Mr. Styles, your new employee is here." Miranda, the receptionist blabs through the phone.

"Yes she is quite early." Miranda speaks with annoyance. Lovely.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." She speaks.

"He will see you shortly, Ms. Jones." She breaths. "You might want to clean up a bit. You smell like an unpleasant morning. Bathrooms are down the hall." She rudely speaks to me.

"Thank you, Miranda. I appreciate your honesty." I say, sarcasm dripping off of my words.

I make my way down the hall, silently cursing at myself for wearing a white button down. I find the restrooms and enter them. I gasp at the lavish and unneeded furnishings. The dark oxblood walls make their way up onto a ceiling with crystal chandeliers hanging down, illuminating the room. In the far corner by the white ceramic sinks lays a golden plush sofa. Next to me there is a closet labeled 'EXTRAS'. I decide to open it and find a variety of button downs in every color you could imagine. I quickly take my white button down off and replace it with another button down, except this one is made of expensive silk instead of cheap cotton, like mine.

I throw my blouse into the very back of the closet and shut the door. No one needs to know. I make my way over to the sinks to think of how polite it was to have extra clothes in case am employee had an unfortunate accident, like me. I take in my appearance. My stick straight black hair I acquired from my mother's side of the family, although that's one of the only exotic Indian features I acquired from her. My creamy white skin comes from my dad's side of the family. I acquired my mother's beautiful brown eyes, though odd hints of my dad's blue peaked through. My freshly mascara'd eyes make their way down to my red colored plump lips. I fix my hair, parting it from the side as usual and take a step back to look at my clothing.

The silky white shirt fits almost perfectly, being a little tight around my breasts. I take in how my tight just-above-the-knee pencil skirt hugs my un welcomed wide hips, but gladly shows off the flat stomach I try hard to maintain. I look down to make sure the black pumps I have on are appropriate enough for the office, being at a four inch length. The heels bring me up to about 5"10, which I like. I pick up the white céline bag my over compensated friend, Melanie, bought for my 19th birthday a week ago.

I smile at the memory of her dropping it at my doorstep with a note before running back down to her sleek Audi, knowing if she stayed I would have made her take it back. Every time I see her i try to give it back, but miserably fail. I smile as I walk out of the bathroom, only to trip and fall right in front of a very handsome man? No he's definitely a boy. He couldn't be older than twenty-three. He let's out a large hand that's sprinkled with barely noticeable tattoos. I take his hand and his appearance. His curly brown hair is pushed up and out of his face, styled neatly. His piercing green eyes look into mine, making me feel insecure about my own eyes. His pink lips pull into a smile, showcasing his perfect dentistry and amazingly cute dimples.

"Hello, I'm Harry." He speaks with an English accent, surprising me being that we are in Seattle. I take a once over of his sleek black suit with a white button up beneath resting on his lean yet muscular frame before I can process the info he has given to me. Wait.

"Harry, as in Styles?" I ask and his wicked smile grows wider.

"Yes indeed. And you are?" He asks, his husky voice is almost as overwhelming as his minty breath fanning over my face.

"I'm Mara Jones, your new personal assistant." I smile politely. I just blatantly checked out my boss. Kill me.

"Well, this will be very fun." He smirks, seeming to be speaking to himself. Shit.