Even If It Hurts -H.S. AU

4

"What did he say?" Phoebe asks me as we sit in a bar just down the street from the hotel. I'm on my second cocktail and Phoebe is still working on her first. They didn't bat an eye at her when she ordered it, not questioning if she was old enough to even be in here. The way she carries herself very telling. It makes me envy how confident she is in herself.

I sit up straight in my seat and furrow my eyebrows, trying to do my best moody Englishman impression. "Violet?" I mock his accent and deepen my voice to where it almost isn't audible.

Phoebe laughs and throws her head back against the booth seat, waiting for more. When I don't continue, she raises her eyebrows at me.

"That's it?" She asks in disbelief. "Five years without seeing you and that's all he's got?"

"Well, to be fair, I practically pushed him out of the way to leave." I take another sip of my drink and cross my legs under the table. "Otherwise, I was going to be sick all over his fancy Gucci suit."

"Okay, you have no room to judge, you Versace whore." Phoebe rolls her eyes at me and I throw the umbrella from my drink at her.

"That's no way to talk to your boss." I chuckle when she throws it back.

"Yeah, but you're not my boss right now." She says sincerely, leaning forward onto the table as she looks at me. "Right now, you're my friend, who just had a really shit day. So, we drink!"

We clink our glasses together and chug the rest, signaling the bartender for another round. There's not much liquor in these, but I've only eaten once today, and then threw it up, so I'm definitely feeling a buzz.

"I think I bombed it." I blurt out, finally admitting it to her and to myself. "I was so thrown off by seeing Harry, I honestly don't remember a word I said."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." She tries to reassure me, but I'm still convinced it was the worst pitch I've ever done.

"I don't know, I was kind of expecting a response by the end of the day and well," I look at the nonexistent watch on my wrist and shrug. "it's about that time."

"Violet, I really don't think-" she cuts herself off, looking over my shoulder at something. "Is that- that's not him, is it?"

I've only ever described Harry to her, she's never even seen a photo of him, but if she thinks he's here, I'm sure she's right. The way he commands the attention when he walks into a room makes him unmistakable. I slowly look over my shoulder and my stomach sinks when I see him walking across the floor to our booth.

"Fuck." I mumble and Phoebe looks at me with wide eyes. In the next second, her shoulders drop and she places a bored expression on her face, looking directly at him, while he closes the distance between us.

I fucking love her.

"Hello." I hear Harry greet Phoebe, but I don't look up from the straw wrapper I'm folding over and over again in my hands. "Violet, can I speak with you?"

I purse my lips, like I'm thinking real hard about it, and Phoebe takes over.

"Ms. Parker isn't taking any meetings at the moment. Would you like to schedule one at a later date?" She asks him in her best assistant voice and I finally crack, a laugh escaping me against my will.

I know this is unprofessional, but we're in a bar for christ sake. At eight p.m., on a Friday. It's his own fault, really.

"Cute." He mutters, sounding a little annoyed. "Is this your guard dog? Does she know how to sit and stay too?"

I finally snap my head up to look at him, finding he's looking at Phoebe. She stares right back, certainly not intimidated, and not backing down an inch.