Chapter 8:

Chapter 8:

The long curtain crease seeps the blinding sunrise through, pushing my duvet over my eyes with a groan. The sounds of last night creep into the back of my mind, reminding me of the nightmares that haunted my dreams throughout the night.

Today's.... what is it? Friday? That means I'm on early shift this morning at the antique shop. Well crap. If there's no one making breakfast, better off I make myself something. I push the covers off, exposing my body to the coldness of the late November air. Ugh. I toss on a pair of yoga pants, an oversized sweater and fuzzy Christmas socks. Maybe I can work out later if the business gets slow in the afternoon.

The empty halls are completely silent, giving the feel as if it was a gentle, peaceful home with no sign of regret. As I pass Harrys room, I can't help but look in by impulse. As expected, Harry lies sprawled next to a bare girl. I roll my eyes, pushing myself forward until i reach the huge kitchen. Harry isn't getting any breakfast, serves him right I mean, sleeping with another girl when his wife is in the next room- I mean fake wife. That's still wrong.. right?

The fridge is filled with supplies, everything from eggs to milk, it has everything. I settle on cooking up bacon with eggs and toast, the aroma of the bacon filling the kitchen area. Soon my stomach churns from the smell, the craving luring me to taste the crisp slices. As I reach into the pan a hand grips my wrist, causing my eyes to shoot up to find Harry.

"You'll get burned," He says quietly. I search his eyes for arrogance but find none, just sincerity. My eyes soften but I gently tug away my hand and tend to the eggs as if not recognizing the moment.

"Why would you care?" I whisper, barely audible and more to myself than to him but he seemingly hears.

"I just didn't want you to get hurt.." He murmurs back defensively. Suddenly I turn quickly towards him, touching my hand lightly to his cheek. My eyes half close at the contact and his reaction to it.

"Thank you... really." I say curtly, quickly removing my hand from his cheek to begin to fill the two plates. Thank goodness I eat for two people usually or I wouldn't have anything for him. My tone changes quickly, as if remembering who I'm speaking to. "Uhm- So, how was last night?" I flaunt sarcastically with a smirk. His eyes widen from the corner of my eyes.

"How do you know about that? And why would you want to know, the agreement never said we had to act trustingly to eachother." He retorts quickly, his arrogant self returning to him at once. Ah yes, there's the Harry I know and hate.

"Oh, I know. I was just asking because you were making quite the noise next door and I could barely get some sleep. If you wouldn't mind, could you try to keep your little hired help quiet next time? Thanks." I smirk with mock politeness. He stares disbelievingly at me for a moment as I set down his plate and begin to gobble down my own. "Are you going to stand there or are you going to eat the food I made?"

"Uh... yeah." He murmurs, sliding into the chair and beginning to eat quietly. Well that worked well, rich boy here is finally getting told no for once and he has no valid response. Such a boy with the simple, dumbfounded response of "uh.. yeah."

After I finish, I place my plate in the sink and stand. "If you'll excuse me, I must be getting to my job." He raises an eyebrow and lower his fork.

"Oh, by the way, you won't be able to work there anymore. No wife of mine will be working in a place like that, fake or not. No one would ever believe that i'd marry someone like that." He states. I cross my arms, actually smiling at how ridiculous he sounds. Me? Quit the shop? I don't think so.

"Are you serious? That shop is my life. I run it for my mom, I can't quit. And you can't make me,"

"Do you want me to quit your dads movie? Because i'll be glad to not show up today and continue on with my so-called 'hired help'." He responds quickly. That shuts me up. I can't do that to my dad. Harry smirks knowingly. I swear he'll use that to get what he wants every single time.

Through gritted teeth, "And what would I be doing, Mr. Styles." I struggle out sweetly.

"You'll be my personal assistant. You know, handle stuff, records, all the business stuff.." He trails, putting his plate in the sink on mine. "But don't worry, you can work your last day at your little shop today. You start for me on Monday."

I shudder at the thought. "I've never done that before." Quickily said.

"I think you'll do just fine, you seem to like being in charge.." He starts, gripping me tight on my chin and neck. His fingers squeeze so tightly I clinch my teeth, forced to stare him in the eye. "..too bad I'm the only one who can be in charge here." He murmurs in my face.

He loosens his grip enough for me to jerk away, ripping up my purse and strutting purposely through the front door and towards the shop. Who does he think he is where he can just go telling me that? He has no idea how to treat a lady whatsoever. And he thinks he can go around doing that to people? Just- just- ugh. I need Ed to let me vent and in order for that to happen, I need to get to the shop before he opens.

Gingerly, my fingers probe the red spots where Harry had pressed, a slight smile tugging at the corners of my lips. As much as I hate that jerk, he has his moments.

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