The Elevator
Chapter 1
Lila Jacobs sighed as she read the text from her boss again. It simply stated that she was to pick up a list of coffees and bring them back to the conference room of his boss. She hated being that girl in the office who was going to be so well known at the shop around the corner but she really and truly was. She had got the internship at the record company in London out of complete luck and so she would not to anything to jeopardize it. So right now, she was dutifully waiting in line to pick up six coffees for Simon Cowell and the boys of One Direction for their meeting in ten minutes.
Her boss wasn't actually Simon Cowell but his assistant. A man named Thomas Flint. He was nice enough as bosses went she guessed and only a few years older than her. He never yelled at her and always called her by her proper name, which was very different than some of the experiences of other interns she bonded with over her bagged lunch of sandwich and yogurt.
She had been working for him for just under two weeks after having moved to London from New York earlier in the month. She had always loved music, the strains of it seeming to hang around her since she was a child. And while in her first year of university at NYU four years ago, she had found the world of marketing after taking a general introduction class. Determined to combine the two, she had applied for all the positions she could find straight out of university but in the world of high-priced rents and surplus of recent graduates, she had been unable to find a position. She had turned to internships as a last resort and had applied for the one at Syco all the way across the pond on a lark after the encouragement from one of her friends. She had forgotten about it completely until a chipped british voice had called her and said that she had gotten through the first selection round and would be having a phone interview in a week with Thomas Flint. A week later she had done the awkward interview and decided she had done so horribly that they wouldn't even bother to call her back.
But they had. And then the reality of accepting the position hit her. She had a bit of money saved from working at a clothing store during school and her grandmother had left her a tidy sum when she had passed the year before, a sum she hadn't touched since she was aware of just how expensive it was to live in New York. After investigating the cost of living in London to determine if it was feasible and knowing that it could be a stepping stone when listed on her currently very sparse resume, she accepted. Three weeks later, she had packed up her two bags and gotten on a plane to fly across the pond and start her new life.
She had to admit that she had thought the life of an intern at a recording company would be much more exciting than it had been. The constant stream of famous musicians and celebrities and days of hearing the latest hits had not materialized as she had thought. Instead, she had been the constant gopher for Thomas. Getting coffee, magazines, newspapers and lunches along with answering phones and emails had been her life instead. But she told herself the entire time that she was doing this for the end goal, to get something on her resume that would put her ahead of all those recent graduates she had left behind in New York who were still showing up for interviews in the one sharp suit they had bought thinking many more were to come from the large paycheque they deserved for their four years of diligence.
But that didn't mean that she was happy to have to be balancing the six labelled paper cups as she paid for the hot drinks using the card that Thomas had given her for such occasions. She quickly thanked the server at the cash before picking up the bag of pastries she had been asked to pick up as well and starting the two block walk back towards the office.
After nearly dropping the coffees several times, she finally reached the office building and made her way to the elevator. Thomas' office was tucked neatly beside Simon's on the top floor so she selected it from the lit panel while balancing the drinks against the railing that ran around the perimeter of the elevator. She was just about to watch the door slide closed when she heard a rasp of a male voice calling out for it to be held. Knowing she would be unable to balance the drinks and pastries yet again, she apologized under her breath and continued to let them slide closed.
But the person behind the voice was able to catch it anyway, his hand snaking through a slim crack that was left and started to pull the door open. She heard a string of unprofessional words come from him before he was able to squeeze through.
"You could have bloody well held the door," he said as he tried to straighten his curls in the mirror that circled them after the lift started moving. His back was to her, his white t-shirt grazing a slim body and waist, but she immediately recognized the brown curls that she stared at to belong to Harry Styles, one fifth of the band she was carrying the drinks for. "You must have heard me calling."
"I did but I kind of had my hands full with such things as your coffee and chocolate donut." She watched as he turned around and saw his face screw up in annoyance. Lila had to admit that this was hardly what she had thought her first experience with a celebrity would be like. She had thought it would be at a party where she would be dressed in a killer outfit she had picked that morning and her hair and makeup perfectly done, her legs stretched by a pair of killer heels. They would see her across the room and slowly make their way across before sweeping her away in their limo. She hadn't figured out the rest yet but that didn't matter. Instead, she was wearing a pair of jeans and flats with minimal makeup and her hair probably falling out of the carefully made bun from the morning. It had seemed fine when she had left her apartment but now it seemed horribly underdone. "Sorry, it's just that I was able to make it this far without spilling and I was hoping to continue. That's why I didn't hold the door."
She had been unsure what to expect his response to be but the response she got did surprise her. Instead of grabbing a couple of cups or the bag of pastries, he leered at her and leaned against the back of the elevator with his hands stuffed into the jean pockets. "Well, since that is the job for Thomas' intern, I am guessing you are the lucky one who gets the job currently. I must say, your beauty is certainly wasted on a man like Thomas. If you don't have any plans tonight, I would love to show you good time."
Lila tried to brush off the comment, sure that Harry was used to women falling under his spell with a glance of his sparkling eyes. But she would not. As good-looking as he was, and there was no denying that, she had prepared herself to be around good-looking men who carried that attitude with them. "Thank you for the offer but I will have to decline. But you could help me carry some of this before my arms give out."
Harry continued to leer at her but did pick out one of the cups, the one with his name on it, and taking a deep sip. Lila muttered as the delicate balance she had created was disturbed and the whole thing threatened to tumble down. She was able to save it only by dropping the bag of pastries and grabbing the tray with both hands. "Crap," she muttered as she felt hot coffee spill on her hand from the sloshing around. And her annoyance grew as she watched Harry merely stand with a too sexy smirk on his face. "You really could help me here. At least pick up the bag."
"And miss the opportunity to watch that very cute butt of yours while you do it? I would hate to do that to myself." Harry took another sip of the drink and continued to stare at her, a feeling of disgust draping itself on her as he did. Disgust and frustration. Who did this twenty year-old douche think that he was to look at her like about to screw her on the floor of this elevator? She was not a fangirl and at this rate would never be. Seeming to sense her anger rising, he took one more sip before bending down and picking up the bag and tucking it to his side. "Fine, I'll do your job but you definitely owe me now."
The final few moments of the elevator ride were spent in silence. Well, kind of. Lila stared straight ahead and chewed her bottom lip as she waited for the ride to be over. But Harry dug into the bag and grabbed the spoken of chocolate donut before taking a large bite and noisily chewing. Thankfully, the movement of the elevator stopped and the door slid open before too much longer. Lila waited for Harry but when he didn't move, she huffed and walked out herself, sure she felt his eyes on her behind the entire time. As she reached the conference room of the almighty Simon Cowell, she felt Harry walking behind her and continuing to gaze as he did.
She moved into the room, the glossy wood floor and sleek furniture reflecting the light from the large range of windows. She set the coffees down, each marked one in front of a chair along with the requested pastry from the bag she took from Harry. She put the extra ones on a plate that had been set out in the middle of the table. She texted Thomas that her errand was done and prepared to leave but as she reached the door, Harry stood in the middle of it.
"Now, there is the matter of you owing me," he said with a cheeky smile. "And I am not a demanding debtor. A simple kiss will suffice."
Lila was about to let her usually well held temper go when she heard several voices coming down the hall. Harry heard them too and they caused his body to relax for a moment and allow enough space for Lila to slip out. As she did so, Harry realized what she was doing and put his hand on her cheek, stopping her in her tracks despite the lightest of pressures. "You may have escaped this time," he whispered into her ear with the softest and hottest of breaths. "But I will collect my payment."
And as Lila left the room, she had a feeling that he was absolutely right.
Her boss wasn't actually Simon Cowell but his assistant. A man named Thomas Flint. He was nice enough as bosses went she guessed and only a few years older than her. He never yelled at her and always called her by her proper name, which was very different than some of the experiences of other interns she bonded with over her bagged lunch of sandwich and yogurt.
She had been working for him for just under two weeks after having moved to London from New York earlier in the month. She had always loved music, the strains of it seeming to hang around her since she was a child. And while in her first year of university at NYU four years ago, she had found the world of marketing after taking a general introduction class. Determined to combine the two, she had applied for all the positions she could find straight out of university but in the world of high-priced rents and surplus of recent graduates, she had been unable to find a position. She had turned to internships as a last resort and had applied for the one at Syco all the way across the pond on a lark after the encouragement from one of her friends. She had forgotten about it completely until a chipped british voice had called her and said that she had gotten through the first selection round and would be having a phone interview in a week with Thomas Flint. A week later she had done the awkward interview and decided she had done so horribly that they wouldn't even bother to call her back.
But they had. And then the reality of accepting the position hit her. She had a bit of money saved from working at a clothing store during school and her grandmother had left her a tidy sum when she had passed the year before, a sum she hadn't touched since she was aware of just how expensive it was to live in New York. After investigating the cost of living in London to determine if it was feasible and knowing that it could be a stepping stone when listed on her currently very sparse resume, she accepted. Three weeks later, she had packed up her two bags and gotten on a plane to fly across the pond and start her new life.
She had to admit that she had thought the life of an intern at a recording company would be much more exciting than it had been. The constant stream of famous musicians and celebrities and days of hearing the latest hits had not materialized as she had thought. Instead, she had been the constant gopher for Thomas. Getting coffee, magazines, newspapers and lunches along with answering phones and emails had been her life instead. But she told herself the entire time that she was doing this for the end goal, to get something on her resume that would put her ahead of all those recent graduates she had left behind in New York who were still showing up for interviews in the one sharp suit they had bought thinking many more were to come from the large paycheque they deserved for their four years of diligence.
But that didn't mean that she was happy to have to be balancing the six labelled paper cups as she paid for the hot drinks using the card that Thomas had given her for such occasions. She quickly thanked the server at the cash before picking up the bag of pastries she had been asked to pick up as well and starting the two block walk back towards the office.
After nearly dropping the coffees several times, she finally reached the office building and made her way to the elevator. Thomas' office was tucked neatly beside Simon's on the top floor so she selected it from the lit panel while balancing the drinks against the railing that ran around the perimeter of the elevator. She was just about to watch the door slide closed when she heard a rasp of a male voice calling out for it to be held. Knowing she would be unable to balance the drinks and pastries yet again, she apologized under her breath and continued to let them slide closed.
But the person behind the voice was able to catch it anyway, his hand snaking through a slim crack that was left and started to pull the door open. She heard a string of unprofessional words come from him before he was able to squeeze through.
"You could have bloody well held the door," he said as he tried to straighten his curls in the mirror that circled them after the lift started moving. His back was to her, his white t-shirt grazing a slim body and waist, but she immediately recognized the brown curls that she stared at to belong to Harry Styles, one fifth of the band she was carrying the drinks for. "You must have heard me calling."
"I did but I kind of had my hands full with such things as your coffee and chocolate donut." She watched as he turned around and saw his face screw up in annoyance. Lila had to admit that this was hardly what she had thought her first experience with a celebrity would be like. She had thought it would be at a party where she would be dressed in a killer outfit she had picked that morning and her hair and makeup perfectly done, her legs stretched by a pair of killer heels. They would see her across the room and slowly make their way across before sweeping her away in their limo. She hadn't figured out the rest yet but that didn't matter. Instead, she was wearing a pair of jeans and flats with minimal makeup and her hair probably falling out of the carefully made bun from the morning. It had seemed fine when she had left her apartment but now it seemed horribly underdone. "Sorry, it's just that I was able to make it this far without spilling and I was hoping to continue. That's why I didn't hold the door."
She had been unsure what to expect his response to be but the response she got did surprise her. Instead of grabbing a couple of cups or the bag of pastries, he leered at her and leaned against the back of the elevator with his hands stuffed into the jean pockets. "Well, since that is the job for Thomas' intern, I am guessing you are the lucky one who gets the job currently. I must say, your beauty is certainly wasted on a man like Thomas. If you don't have any plans tonight, I would love to show you good time."
Lila tried to brush off the comment, sure that Harry was used to women falling under his spell with a glance of his sparkling eyes. But she would not. As good-looking as he was, and there was no denying that, she had prepared herself to be around good-looking men who carried that attitude with them. "Thank you for the offer but I will have to decline. But you could help me carry some of this before my arms give out."
Harry continued to leer at her but did pick out one of the cups, the one with his name on it, and taking a deep sip. Lila muttered as the delicate balance she had created was disturbed and the whole thing threatened to tumble down. She was able to save it only by dropping the bag of pastries and grabbing the tray with both hands. "Crap," she muttered as she felt hot coffee spill on her hand from the sloshing around. And her annoyance grew as she watched Harry merely stand with a too sexy smirk on his face. "You really could help me here. At least pick up the bag."
"And miss the opportunity to watch that very cute butt of yours while you do it? I would hate to do that to myself." Harry took another sip of the drink and continued to stare at her, a feeling of disgust draping itself on her as he did. Disgust and frustration. Who did this twenty year-old douche think that he was to look at her like about to screw her on the floor of this elevator? She was not a fangirl and at this rate would never be. Seeming to sense her anger rising, he took one more sip before bending down and picking up the bag and tucking it to his side. "Fine, I'll do your job but you definitely owe me now."
The final few moments of the elevator ride were spent in silence. Well, kind of. Lila stared straight ahead and chewed her bottom lip as she waited for the ride to be over. But Harry dug into the bag and grabbed the spoken of chocolate donut before taking a large bite and noisily chewing. Thankfully, the movement of the elevator stopped and the door slid open before too much longer. Lila waited for Harry but when he didn't move, she huffed and walked out herself, sure she felt his eyes on her behind the entire time. As she reached the conference room of the almighty Simon Cowell, she felt Harry walking behind her and continuing to gaze as he did.
She moved into the room, the glossy wood floor and sleek furniture reflecting the light from the large range of windows. She set the coffees down, each marked one in front of a chair along with the requested pastry from the bag she took from Harry. She put the extra ones on a plate that had been set out in the middle of the table. She texted Thomas that her errand was done and prepared to leave but as she reached the door, Harry stood in the middle of it.
"Now, there is the matter of you owing me," he said with a cheeky smile. "And I am not a demanding debtor. A simple kiss will suffice."
Lila was about to let her usually well held temper go when she heard several voices coming down the hall. Harry heard them too and they caused his body to relax for a moment and allow enough space for Lila to slip out. As she did so, Harry realized what she was doing and put his hand on her cheek, stopping her in her tracks despite the lightest of pressures. "You may have escaped this time," he whispered into her ear with the softest and hottest of breaths. "But I will collect my payment."
And as Lila left the room, she had a feeling that he was absolutely right.