The CEO // l.s
- Reads 219
- Votes 12
- Parts 6
MatureOngoing1h 17m
Last published Tue, Mar 15, 2016
"Hello. I'm here for the job." He placed the application and some forms he had brought from the flat, from his late research, on a little coffee table right across the sofa near the door.
"I've been expecting you, Mr. Tomlinson. Please, take a seat." He was facing the windows, but then Louis saw a familiar hairstyle.
Louis gasped, but not to keep Mr. Styles waiting, he took a seat on the sofa.
"So, Mr. Tomlinson. Why do you want to work here?" He looked back, fixing the cuffs of his shirt.
Louis Tomlinson, a 24 year-old man, has no job whatsoever. He finally found a job that would probably suit him, The Fashion Industry. But not just some plain old fashion industry, it was The Styles Industry, one of the best fashion magazine industries out there; run by the infamous Mr. Harry Styles. With some help from Liam Payne, his trustworthy flat mate and lad, he finally got the job. But something else happened during the job interview, a secret admirer. Who could that secret admirer be? A co-worker? One of the janitor?
Take a step into the story, and find out who the secret admirer is and discover how life went on for the both of them!
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"Yeah, well... I'm starting to think I got stood up." The bartender clicks his tongue, setting his towel down with a slow shake of his head. "Fucking tragic. Can't say I understand it. If I had a date with you, I'd be here an hour early, dressed to fucking impress, already working out ways to keep you entertained all night." I raise an eyebrow, half-smirking. "Smooth." "Don't flatter me yet, love. That was just the warm-up." He nods toward my half-finished wine. "Tell you what-since your bloke's clearly an idiot, this one's on the house." I blink. "Seriously?" He shrugs, like it costs him absolutely nothing. "What can I say? I've got a soft spot for beautiful people with shit luck." His smirk deepens. "Also, it's good fucking business. You stay longer, you order more, and I get to look like the hero. Everyone wins." I shake my head, laughing as he pours me another glass with the kind of effortless confidence that suggests he's done this a thousand times before-offered a pretty girl a free drink, flashed a dangerous grin, made her night a little less shit. He slides the glass toward me. "Louis, by the way." "Bee," I say, taking a sip.
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