Millionaire || h.s.

"I'm a millionaire baby, I can get away with anything. I practically have everyone wrapped around my pinky." || Copyright © 2014-2016 All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.


15. t h i r t e e n


t h i r t e e n 


   He quietly sat across the table from me, playing around with the spoon that was sat on his tray. He has barely uttered a word to me since he arrived, only saying the simple replies to my questions or statements. Even when I had to get onto him for not paying attention, he actually apologized instead of his normal act of retaliation. It concerned me how calm he actually was being, and it also made me stay on high alert, watching every little detail closely. His behavior was oddly suspicious, and although I was studying him almost, I was still on edge. This wasn't normal for him, so something was definately wrong this morning. Maybe he just didn't feel all too well?

   The tea that he so desperately wanted earlier now sat on the tray, cold and neglected. The medication I had laid out for him was gone as he took it the moment he walked in the door. He ate a couple of strawberries and took a bite out of his breakfast sandwich afterwards so he wouldn't get sick from taking the medicine on an empty stomach, but that's all he's eaten while being sat at the table.

   His head was now hanging low, his facial features barely seen as his hair was creating a curtain, shielding him away from my view. From what I could see, he was toying around with his phone and by the sounds of the constant clicking, he was typing in a haste over something. Me being a nosy bitch wanted to know what he was typing since he seemed to have much more to say to them in two minutes than to me in two hours. But I didn't dare open my mouth.

   I peeled my eyes off of him and looked down at my paper work for a brief moment, but they didn't stay there long as they quickly drifted over to my own phone sitting on top of a folder. My eyes flickered up to him again for a brief moment to see he was still distracted then shifted back to my phone, my fingers quickly snatching it up.

   I immediately unlock it and click on Twitter, wanting to see if he's posted anything while he's been sitting here with me. Maybe then I can tap into what exactly is going on through that head of his. I search for his username - I don't follow him, it only adds more pride to his ego; been there, done that - and click on his profile as soon as it pops up. The only recent tweet he had sent out was one from earlier this morning, saying that something big and new was coming and how he was excited to share it with his fans. I smiled a tiny bit at seeing that. Even though he might have a cold heart, he did have a soft spot for his fans. I dragged my thumb up and refreshed his page, seeing a new addition to his timeline, it being a retweet of some lyrical quotation: "Don't forget that I'm human, don't forget that I'm real."

   My eyebrows furrow; what was this about? I recognized the lyrics to be from one of Justin Bieber's songs, and from what I could register from what the song means, the message was implying how he was going to show the world the real him. Is Harry forshadowing something then by retweeting this? His album is coming out within a matter of weeks, and from what I've heard about it, it's going to have a completely different sound than the previous albums. It has to be about his new album's sound and how he has a greater influence on the music than before, the "real" him.

   I scroll through a couple more of his profiles on different social mdia just to make sure before I set my phone back down and adjust my paper work. My eyes trail back up to Harry once all the papers are in order to see him starring right back at me, his eyes bright and wide, looking at me with curiosity. This is the first time he's held eye contact with me the entire time he's been sitting in that chair at the opposite end of the table.

   I feel my own eyes widen as I clear my throat, not really knowing what to say, but knowing that I had to say something to him, "Would you like some fresh hot tea? I can go down to the kitchen and make some..." I offer in a soft, cautious voice. He remains silent, looking back down at his fidgity fingers. With the lack of response, I stand out up from my chair and begin to walk toward the door, but just as I wrap my fingers aroud the handle, he speaks up. 

   "No thank you. I'll just drink the tea I have already." He says looking at me once more, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

   "But it's cold-" I start but he cuts me short.

   "I said, I'll just drink the tea I have in front of me. It would be a waste if I didn't go ahead and drink it." He picks up the cup and takes a swallow of it, "Besides, cold tea is just as good." He smacks his lips together, trying to appear that he's sattisfied, but I notice the grimace that quickly forms across his face. He then sets the cup back down, the brown liquid sloshing around a bit as it settles, looking over at the panel of windows on the opposite side of the room. 

   "Since when does Harry Styles care about wasting tea?" I smirk a bit as I eye the back of his head. 

   "I don't care; there is enough tea in this building to be made at least twenty times a day. We just can't waste anymore time as you say our time together is precious." He scoffs at me, and I can envision him rolling his eyes, "So come back over and sit down, we have work to get done." He says flatly. Here we go again with the attitude. I really don't want to go through another hour of the silent treatment when we still have some work to finish. If we were going to get anywhere during the next hour, he would have to cooperate with me, and in order to do that he needs to get whatever he has on his mind off of it. 

   I shuffle away from the door and step over so I can look him in the eye. He shifts his eyes to my moving figure, but once I stop directly in front of him, he averts his eyes back to the windows, "Why have you been quiet all morning?" I ask him, folding my arms across my chest. This probably wasn't the best way to approach the silent game that's been going on, and this might tick him off, but it had to be done. 

   He simply shrugs his shoulders, keeping his eyes locked onto whatever was currently outside the window. 

   "Harry, why are you all of a sudden keeping quiet? You usually have a vocal attitude...where is it?" I press, but he doesn't talk. He keeps his hand pressed firmly over his mouth, and breathes heavily, his posture straightening a bit as he adjusts in his seat. "Is it because of this morning that you are refusing to speak to me?" 

   His eyes flicker over to me for a moment with his eyebrows raised. 

   I sigh out in frustration, "Listen, I am in no mood to play these games with you, Harry. Either you tell me what the hell is up or---"

   "I'm not playing any games, Elizabeth. I am simply just in no mood to talk." He sarcatically smiles at me, his hands folded on his lap now. 

   "But this meeting requires you to talk, do you realize that? This is benefitting you and your career, so your little mood over talking needs to go away." I huff. "We're almost finished which means if you cooperate, you'll be able to leave a lot sooner." 

   "Who says I'm not 'cooperating'? I've been giving you proper responses to every little question that you've said and helped arrange the tour dates. I would say I've been a rather big help today and that we've gotten a lot of work done in the time we've spent together. My manager hasn't called me out, yet, and we haven't been inturrputed at all by a fight that errupted between you and I." He states to me, his mouth twitching down into a frown. 

   "Yes those factors haven't inturrupted us yet, and that is a phenomenal thing, but this requires your full attention, and it seems to me that your brain has been holding you hostage all morning," I begin, 
"So, would you care to explain to me what has been keeping you from fully being present at this meeting of ours?" 

   "It's none of your business." He said, eyeing me closely.

   "Harry, it is my business when it's concerning the work I have to do." I point to all the paperwork that is laid out before me, hoping that he understands. 

   "What goes on inside my head does not concern you, nor should it. I'm going to repeat this one more time, it's none of your business, so stay the hell out of it." His eyes narrow slightly and I know that he is starting to get aggitated with me, but I don't care. He can be mad at me all he wants, but work is work and it has to get done. 

   I scoff, "You're missing the point. You need to have your full attention on what we are doing because you may agree to something that you don't want. Whatever is on your mind is clearly dragging you down, so maybe it'll help if you just get it off your chest." 

   "No you're missing the point." He snarls, "The topics that are on my mind are to remain there, not to be vocalized to a sneaky bitch like yourself. If I have something to say, I will. You know damn well that I would do it, so if I'm quiet, I have nothing to say to you. My personal life is to belong to me and only me, so shut your mouth and leave me be." 

   "I'm only trying to help you-" 

   "No, what you're doing is trying to be nosy. Quit the act, I know what you're up to." He snaps at me, "And if you so much as think to open your mouth again about my personal life, I'll walk out of here and go speak with Jackson." 

   At the moment, I shut my lips tight, and look over at my work, walking back over to my chair to sit down. I scribble a couple notes down as he clears his throat and adjusts himself in his own seat. 4

   "What city did we last leave off?" He asks me in a calm tone of voice. 




   I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the meeting, only asking him simple questions over what cities he would prefer to play in or what type of venues he would like. He went back to being quiet as well, paying close attention to his phone and talking when appropriate. I didn't press on any more after his last statement to me, and it was probably for the best that I did so. 

   I wrote down the last city along with the venue in my notebook, then typing it in onto the computer to schedule the venue for that evening. Then, I pulled out the paperwok that he needed to sign off on to say that he had approved off the tour layout and that it was finished. I picked up my pen and the few papers and stodd from my chair, walking over to him. I placed the papers down before him along with the pen, "You just need to sign these and then you're free to go." I softly say to him and he looks up from his phone for the first time since I had sat back down after our little chat. 

   He picks up the pen and scribbles his name on the lines I have marked before standing up to leave, grabbing his jacket that was on the back of his chair as well. 

   "I'll be seeing you within the week to have a meeting with all the staff to finalize everything. My manager will be present as well so make sure you have everything laid out correctly and every detail completed by then, you understand Elizabeth?" He harshly says to me and I nod my head, "Good." With that he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

   I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and went back to sit down in my chair, pulling my phone out to see that Niall had tried to text me; 

               Everything okay? The offer for lunch is still on if you're not busy. xx. 

   I smile at my phone slightly, gazing at the time as I do so, noticing that it almost noon. I quickly text him back to let him know that I'm free and that I'll meet him down in the lobby in ten minutes, before I stand up and collect all of my things, walking briskly out of the room. 

   At least I have Niall to put me in a better mood. 

   As I'm walking to my cubicle to put away my folders and notebooks, I notice Harry is standing in the corridor talking on the phone to someone. He begins to speak loudly and roughly into the phone, the conversation obviously not well. He yells something else into the phone before pulling it away from his ear and ending the call, harshly sticking the phone into his pocket. He runs a hand through his hair and tugs on it as he begins to pace back and forth, his other hand rubbing the side of his face. 

   He abruptly stops his actions and looks over in my direction, his eyes landing on my frame. His eyebrows furrow together and the frown on his lips is prominent as he shakes his head at me, turning on his heels to walk away. 

   Whatever was pestering him earlier seems to have taken another wrong turn. 



It's me again. 

So so so sorry that you all had to wait a long time for this chapter to come out. I'm very bad at updating I know, and I really am trying to fix that. 

This chapter probably doesn't even make any sense whatsoever, but you'll understand after a while what's happening, because this will tie into something else that's coming.

I hope you all still like it though ... Anyways, feedback is greatly appreciated!  So if you have any suggestions, feel free to leave them below! xx.


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