Criminal

1.

It was a rather rainy Monday, more so than usual for the dreary London weather, when a smirking, seductive young boy strutted into the office of Zayn Malik. He didn’t bother knocking; there was no tie on the door, so he took that as being a green light to enter.

The dripping lad shook his curly rag of hair, sprinkling water everywhere. Zayn caught the rubber band ball he had been tossing in the air, and looked up, cold eyes meeting the boy. He puffed out smoke from his Cuban Cigar, billowing the smoke in expert spirals, swallowing the aftertaste with scotch. After a few moments of silence, Zayn propped his feet up on the neatly messy desk and made a dismissive gesture for the younger lad to sit.

Both men smirked as Harry fingered through the mail. “All is well, Harry?” Zayn asked in his mysterious, hallowed tone.

“Yes sir.” Harry replied guilt swallowing his heart hole.

“Tell me you aren’t still soft hearted?” Zayn groaned, snatching the mail from the twenty-two year old hands.

“I’m not!” he defensively fired back, rising from his seat, only to lower back down again at the glare from his boss. “I just think maybe we could go about it in a different way.” He shrugged tapping his feet against the cherry floor.

“Harry, how long have you known me?” Zayn asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his reading glasses falling slightly on his nose.

Harry mentally counted before muttering, “Four years.”

“And do you think if I could have found an alternative I would have by now?” he challenged.

“Yes.” Harry gulped.

“Well, I think that was rather silly don’t you?” Harry nodded. “Okay, now, do you see these?” Harry nodded. “These are the applications that Louis so dutifully posted online. Take these down to him and have them search through until he finds someone decent enough.”

“M’kay.” Harry tossed his hair, looking up at Zayn.

“Is it hard to do this on your own, the collection?” Zayn loosed his tie, checking his watch.

“A bit.” It was more than a bit, but Harry wanted to make up for their previous conversation.

“Well then call those damn lovebirds and tell them to hurry up the honeymoon.” Harry saluted Zayn in a playful way, earning a rare squinty smile from the thirty year old. “Oh, and Harry?”

Harry turned from his spot halfway to the door, seeing his boss holding out the tie. “Hang that on the door, will ya? Perrie’s coming by.”

Harry cringed, taking the tie. “Now, you can have interoffice relations but I can’t? What was that one intern’s name? Victoria? Vanessa? Oh come on, you know the one, the one with the really tight ass- oh Christ what was her name?”

“Veronica.” Zayn suggested.

Harry snapped, pointing to him. “Yeah, her. She had potential.”

Zayn coughed pointing to the door. “That was my cousin.”

“Shit. Well, tell your family that you guys have great genes.”

Zayn only laughed, pointing Harry out the door. Leaning back in his chair in wait, he counted the cash Harry dropped off. One man paid paper, the other something much more valuable. Zayn was proud of Harry, he didn’t get any blood on him this time. The boy was making progress.