Troublemakers

As soon as his breathing slowed I was inching myself out from under his arm and looking around the dimly lit hotel room for my clothes. I didn't know his name, I didn't know his story, and that's how I liked it. Names meant that you could recall who they were, how they touched you, and all of the ways they made you feel. And forget staying the night. I do not do cuddling and pillow talk. I don't do feelings and shit. Fuck that.

Bra, check.

Shirt, check.

Shorts, check.

Shoes, check.

Now where the hell are my panties?!

I looked for a good ten minutes, before stumping my toe and nearly waking up my flavor of the week. I bit my lip and wiped away the tears that had built up as I tried not to scream in pain and gave up on my panty search. He could have them.

"Eleanor?" His groggy British voice called as I opened the door a little too loudly.

"Oh, um. It's Victoria actually." I fake smiled. "Go back to sleep, I have to go."

"Stay?" He whispered, his blue eyes suddenly making me feel guilty. He looked lost, as if he didn't really know where he was or what the hell he was doing here. I guess he was a little more hammered than I had thought. I felt like I had taken advantage of him or something. He was the one that came after me though.

Right?

"I don't do sleepovers." I shrugged non-apologetically.

I watched as his eyebrows furrowed, but he chose not to say anything. The way he clenched his jaw, like he was in pain, made me almost sorry I turned away from him. I couldn't do the cuddling and the awkward good mornings. Like I said, me and feelings just don't really mix.

Leaning against the door to my apartment I sighed, clutching my wallet to my chest. The sun was slowly rising and I was beat. The sudden realization that I would be spending yet another night alone set in and I bit my lip. I absolutely hated being alone. I use to have a roommate, but it didn't take me long to realize I'm not very good at sharing. Needless to say after her rent ran out I kicked her to the curb as nicely as possible and reclaimed my apartment as my own.

I pushed myself off of the door and set my keys and wallet on the counter of my bar. The sliding of my feet across the floor filled my ears as I tried my best to make it to my bed. Sometimes I end up sleeping on the couch, because the looming walk to my bedroom is just too much to bare at six in the morning. I have a lot of late nights.

When my head hit my goose feather pillow I was out like a light. I didn't even bother to get undressed.

----------

Thriller started blaring through my iPhone's speakers way too soon if you ask me. I groaned absolutely refusing to get out of bed after only two hours of sleep. It was Saturday, my off day. Why was my alarm going off?

Just as I curled back up in my comforter and started to drift to sleep my brain sparked to life.

Shit.

I had to be at work early today for some emergency meeting with a client. Marissa told me yesterday, before I went out, and I had completely forgotten. How could I be such an idiot? I can't run off of no sleep!

My body begged for me to stay put, but my brain had other plans. I rolled myself off of the bed and crawled to the bathroom. The smell of smoke and sex clung to my body and I didn't think Marissa would appreciate it very much. Though, Bobby, her nephew and CEO would absolutely adore it. I'm his favorite. Marissa, well, we have a love hate relationship.

I turned the shower on, before dragging my feet over to the sink and brushing my teeth. Gotta keep those pearly whites pearly somehow. By the time I had finished and got undressed the hot water was filling the bathroom up with steam and I could only see half of my reflection in the mirror. I laughed at how silly I looked, before stepping into the steaming water.

Showers were made by God. Seriously. Nothing is more therapeutic than a shower. I could feel all of the dirt and grime wash down the drain, but it felt like so much more than that. It felt like memories. Memories of my rendezvous just washing away, so I no longer have to even think about it. It was nice.

I stepped out of the shower smelling like melons and completely soaked. I wrapped my hair up in a towel and sauntered out of the bathroom and to my room to find something professional to wear to work.

Yeah right. I don't ever wear anything professional to work. Something that really bugged my pencil skirt wearing boss. I've tried, trust me, but I can't stand to wear something uncomfortable. So, as long as I don't wear anything vulgar, Marissa keeps me around.

I threw on the clothes I had found, before slipping on a pair of studded boots and tucking my pants into them. I walked back into the bathroom and picked up my dirty clothes, tossing them and my towels into the hamper. I didn't bother with makeup. I felt like a zombie.

Three minutes later I had my wallet, phone, and keys in hand as I closed my door. I turned the dead bolt and waited to hear the loud CLICK before pulling the key out and running quickly down the stairs.

The cold Seattle wind hit me hard and I threw the hood of my jacket up over my ears. Traffic was busy as people bustled up and down the sidewalks around me. I ran to the edge of the cement and waved for a taxi, feeling to mentally unstable to whistle for one like I usually do.

The warmth of the taxi engulfed me quickly and I sighed with relief, rubbing my hands to warm them up. "Harper Collins building, please." I shuttered.

----------------

"Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in." Bobby drawled as I walked into the office.

"Bite me Robertson." I growled, yanking my aviators off of my eyes and glaring at him.

"Feisty this morning, me likey." He winked with a huge grin spreading across his face.

"Careful babe, don't let your aunt hear you saying that. We just had the sexual harassment meeting last week." I smirked.

"Ouch." He chuckled. "I bought you a pumpkin spice latte, it's on your desk."

"A man who knows how to get a woman in bed ladies and gentlemen." I yelled, gathering the rest of the office's attention and making Bobby's face turn scarlet.

I laughed and kissed his cheek, his stubble stabbing my lips. Bobby was twenty three and had absolutely no luck with the ladies. I think it has a lot to do with the rugged scar that started below his left eye and disappeared under his shaggy brown hair. Something he had earned just short of his twenty first birthday, along with a DUI.

I adored him more than I adored just about anyone. Which in reality is no one. He's the only one I know who can take my constant abuse. When I first started here he hit on me and I told him he didn't have the balls for a woman like me. We've been pretty close ever since.

"Better hurry to your desk, love. Marissa wants you in her office asap. Who ever is coming today must have shoved a stick up her ass." He joked.

Great. Just what I needed today. Not only was it my off day, but I also had to deal with a bitchy Marissa. Sometimes I think the man upstairs just really has it out for me.

Marissa is usually easy to handle. She's pretty uptight, but we've worked together long enough to understand one another. I get my work done on time and don't cause too much of a ruckus and she doesn't treat me like a child. When there is a big client in town, however, shit hits the fan. If you have ever watched that show Bridezillas, it's like that, but more like Bosszilla.

Most of my coworkers treat her like she's Medusa and refuse to look her in the eyes when they talk. Instead they look at the ground or at their computers and just do as she says. She's a real piece of work.

I pulled open the bottom drawer to my desk and threw my things in it, before locking it with my office key. Coffee in hand, thanks to Bobby, I quickly made my way to Bosszilla's office. Unfortunately, she beat me there. I nearly ran into her, because she came blazing up the hallway like her ass was on fire.

"Where have you been?!" She screeched, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Marissa, it's nine. You told me to come in at nine." I sighed, rolling my eyes for dramatic effect.

"You know this client is huge, you could have at least shown up early!" She barked throwing her long black hair over her shoulder.

"Okay. You have lost your fucking mind. I'm going to my office. Come get me when you've gotten off of the crazy train." I snapped, before turning on my heels and making my way back to my office.

She grabbed my arm quickly and sighed. "I'm sorry Tori." She squeaked.

I turned around to face her, looking at her from head to toe. Her pencil skirt was navy blue and as perfect as ever. The matching blazer and her white collar shirt even looked perfect, but her eyes. Well her eyes were as wide as saucers and I was pretty sure she had at least nine cups of coffee that morning. She was ready to lose it.

"Tell me what the hell I'm doing today and make it quick." I sighed, realizing she really did need me today.

"The clients are in the meeting room. They'll explain what they want to you. They specifically asked for someone young this time around. Even though the last book did sell well it didn't go as well as planned. You have to make this work Victoria." She pleaded, her grip on my arm tightening.

"Let go of me and I will." I laughed pulling my arm away from her.

She looked as if she was about ready to hug me. I took a step back and dodged around her in the direction of the meeting room, before calling out to her over my shoulder. "That's borderline sexual harassment you know!"

I didn't have to see her to know that she was probably beet red and about ready to strangle me. I had a way with pushing people's buttons. I even list it under 'skills' on my resume.

I knocked on the large oak door, before pushing it open and making my way to the front of the long table. I sat down hurriedly and looked up expecting to see one or two people, but instead, I was met with six. I blinked a few times, before opening my mouth and closing it like a fish.

"Well. I wasn't expecting a crowd." I blanched.

They all chuckled and I took in their faces one at a time.

"I'm Victoria Moretti, head writer and editor in chief, you lot are?" I asked pointedly, so I could put faces to names.

"Well I'm Niall Horan." The blonde one said with a thick accent I quickly recognized. I grinned broadly at him.

"You're from Mullingar!" I clapped happily. "Right?"

His grin quickly mirrored my own and his blue eyes dazzled. "Yeah, how'd you guess?"

"My mother is from Limerick!" I grinned. "I spend Summers in Ireland with the family every year."

"Sweet." He chuckled.

"I'm Louis, but we've already met." A voice called making me break my eyes from Niall's.

My breath got caught in my throat as I looked at him in the bright room for the first time. If his eyes were bright in the dark they were brighter now that they could shine in all their glory. I gulped. My eyes wondered all around his face, getting a good look at the bumps and curves of his structure; the shape of his nose, the thickness of his lips, the stubble on his chin, the length of his brown hair, everything. He was beautiful. He was familiar.

I could feel the blood draining from my face as I stared into his oceanic pools. This wasn't suppose to happen. I wasn't prepared for this.

"Shit."