corporate affairs [Niall Horan AU]

S E V E N T E E N

S E V E N T E E N

 "Niall stop it!" I scold for the millionth time as he wipes his flour covered hands on my face, creating a white slash across my cheek. 

"Cooking is so fun when you just wing it, Elouise." He remarks coyly, making me roll my eyes and chuckle.

"Well, between the sex and the food fights, we're never going to eat breakfast." 

He laughs behind me, moving to the sink to wash his hands. The kitchen is pretty spacious considering the small size of the cottage. It's a truly exquisite cottage in my opinion, as the back walls of the main level have been turned into floor to ceiling windows that overlook the wooded area behind the house and give another glimpse into the looming mansion next door. 

"Niall, who owns that mansion next door?" I finish stirring the batter and pour the first pancake onto the hot pan, occasionally poking the sides with my spatula. 

"Funny you should ask," Niall replies from his spot across from me, his eyes trained on the newspaper in front of him. He looks absolutely delectable in his glasses and bed head, his bare chest practically glowing. "We've been invited to a party there tonight. Apparently your presence is required. This arrived this morning." He hands me a creamy piece of card-stock with my name written in fancy, swirly script on the front. 

"Miss Elouise Watson," I read aloud as I absentmindedly flip a pancake over,  "your presence at tonight's fete would pleasure me entirely. Hope to see you tonight. Sincerely, J.G." I look up at Niall over the card, smiling widely. "Did you have anything to do with this?" 

"Not at all, but it looks like you have a secret admirer."

"Who curiously has the same initials as my favorite fiction character of all time," I smirk, adding more pancakes onto the pan. 

"--well, besides Harry Potter," he notes happily, grinning at my red cheek. 

"I don't know how you're involved in this, Niall, but somehow you are, you right git." 

He laughs from his spot at the counter as I slide a handful of pancakes his way, staring intently at him. Somehow I'd figure out what exactly he'd arranged.

***

After breakfast Niall and I part our ways, Niall heading to his office to finish some work and me outside to take a run on the beach. Running has always cleared my head and the beach has always calmed me down, and I'll gladly take both right now.

Down at the beach I can see the mansion sprawled out across the vivid green lawn. It's weird how perfectly it aligns to how I'd pictured Gatsby's mansion. I continue running across the beach, the loud sounds of Taylor Swift's voice echoing in my ears. The sandy surface of the beach makes my calves burn a little, they always say running on the beach is harder than on any other surface. After about half a mile, the mansion comes hulking up, right to the left of me. I duck under the boardwalk that leads to the long driveway for Niall's cabin and the gravelly road that slowly winds up to the great wrought-iron gates of the mansion. 

I couldn't help but crawl closer to it, music paused. I made my way across the jagged shore, the protective hill slowly sloping downwards, making it easier for me to cross from the beach to the gravelly road. I climbed on top of the grassy overlook and let the sight of the sprawling eggshell-white estate overcome me. I could imagine the sort of man who might own the estate. The estate, while grand, would probably be only a small portion of what he truly owned. He probably has the whole world in his grasp. He is most definitely a Gatsby of sorts. 

I watch workers in all white move all sorts of tables, food, and alcohol into the house. Then come workers dressed in sky blue, carrying white and blue hydrangeas by the dozens. Truckloads of flowers are unpacked and carried into the looming mansion, giving it the appearance of some insatiable beast. My spying is interrupted by the shrill ring of my phone, causing me to nearly fall off the overlook. I turn away, blushing, and press my phone to my ear, grinning widely.