Personal Assistant ➵ H.S.

30

"Do you like it?" Emmy asked, referring to the gorgeous teal blue ombre dress she was holding up.

"It's absolutely stunning Ems, you're going to look fucking amazing!" You replied with a grin, your hands clasped under your chin in excitement.

It was Friday, the day before you were set to be at the American Music Awards. You were flying into LA early tomorrow morning and packing was the current priority. Harry had given you the day off after Emmy had practically demanded that she needed you today more than he did. Her exact words were something along the lines of 'fashion decisions win over a famous record label today Harry'.

You were actually really pleased for the day away from the office and in Emmy's Brooklyn home. After your little moment by the elevator there was an even weirder tension surrounding you and Harry. He seemed much more calm and put together, whereas you felt more unhinged than you had in a while.

It was quite ironic really, how you were both ready to confront each other with your true feelings, but one was stressed and anxious while the other was serene and thoughtful. Of course, neither of you had any idea of the reason for these differing emotions, as like always, you were both as oblivious as ever.

However, Phoebe was providing some sense of normality in the office and acted as a little bit of a buffer between the growing, unexplainable vibe. She knew that something was building, and that something would be coming to a head soon, but stayed silent, only offering the odd moment of reassurance or witty humour.

"What did you decide to wear Ceece?" Emmy's question broke you out of your thoughts. She could tell that something was playing on your mind (and had been in recent weeks), as you had a tendency to drift off after showing some sort of emotion or engaging in conversation, but she didn't push you, and you were very thankful for that.

"I think I'm going to wear that red dress, you know the one I bought ages ago for some photography event with Damon that I never ended up going to."

Emmy knew the dress well, "Ooh yes I always loved that dress, and was extra mad at him for ruining your chance to wear it the little dickhead," she also knew that red was Harry's favourite colour on you, but she wouldn't indulge in her smug feelings and say that of course.

You laughed at her comment, "I think you were always extra mad at him just for existing."

"That's true," Emmy said thoughtfully, pouting her lips and nodding her head with her hand cupping her chin.

"Only problem is...I don't have any shoes to match!"

"Well..."

You eyed her suspiciously. Whenever Emmy's sentences started off with 'well...' you knew something was coming that you probably wouldn't like. Sighing, hands on your hips you spoke, "What have you done?"

"Now, I know I already got you something for your birthday," she had gifted you the beautiful red coat that you had been wearing to work recently, her eye for fashion was always spot on (she did work for Harpers Bazar magazine for a reason), and of course she managed to get a little ode to Harry in there as well, "But I saw these shoes and I just knew you'd absolutely adore them and you've been feeling so down at the moment - and don't say you haven't because I know you have!" She stopped you instantly as you began to protest.

"Emmy..." you murmured softly, gratefulness evident in your tone, she truly was one of the best friends a girl could have.

You watched her as she ducked out of her bedroom and into her closet which was practically a room in itself, and returned with a simple white shoebox. It had rose gold writing on it and the side of the box had a delicate pattern imprinted on the side. You recognised the branding instantly and gasped, "You didn't!"