Polly and Ethan never went back to her place.

"Sort of figured they'd do it at his flat." I said as Harry showed me to his door after hours and hours of waiting to hear any type of noise through the microphone in Polly's room, only to receive nothing.

"Funny how you decide to share that little bit of information now." Harry remarked in a dry tone, rubbing his tired face as he opened the door, waiting for me to leave.

I tucked my hands in my pockets, about to step out before he stopped me, arm shooting out and blocking the exit.

His green eyes flickered over my body momentarily in thought before he finally opened his mouth.

"Empty your pockets." He instructed in an expectant tone as I kept my straight face.

Damn it.

Backing away with defeat, I suppressed a sigh as I took the fancy water bottle from beneath my jacket, avoiding his gaze with a brooding expression when I placed it on the table in the middle of the large hallway.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, biceps flexing involuntarily through his tight polo shirt as he stared at me.

"All of it." He emphasized, gesturing with a flick of his hand to keep it coming.

I slowly inhaled, my chest rising and falling in a shallow release of breath before I took out two more fancy Voss water bottles from my jacket, putting them onto the table before sending Harry a look.

He still looked unconvinced.

"Hands on the wall." He said with a nod as I followed his instructions, hands on the wall and legs spread slightly as he patted me down.

I raised my brows with pursed lips when he didn't find anything.

"Happy." I deadpanned.

"Ecstatic, you're free to go you little thief." He gave me a disgusted once over, smirking slightly as I walked out of his mansion, hearing the door close behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder, checking that he closed the door before turning and taking out the mini Fiji bottle I stuffed in my bra I got from his room.

"Fancy water..." I whispered to myself, opening it with my long press on nails, happily drinking the water that cost more than my outfit with a smug expression as I walked off his property.

It's real weird but ever since Polly came into Ethan's life I've found myself to be in the rich part of town more than I've ever been before.

I liked Polly though, she hooked me up with a job when I needed a third one to help pay a few damages some tenants in my building left.

Walking into Sourire Le Restaurant, I received plenty of stares directed towards my tattoos and cut up basketball jersey, passing by circular, fancy dressed people at cloth covered tables and dimly lit candles while I gaze up at the sparkling chandelier above, hanging from the angel painted, vaulted ceiling.

"Woah..." I murmured, head tilted up as I admired the intricate designs above before someone whistled at me through the soft chatter and melodic classical music playing in the background.

I glanced over at the direction of the sound, finding a small, stubby man peeking out of the velvet door to the main kitchen in the back, leaning his head to the side to stare at me.

I copied his movements, tilting my head and looking at him before he snapped his pudgy fingers, pointing at the spot in front of him silently ordering me to come over.

The customers around me leaned closer at their tables, gazing over their shoulders at me and whispering in hushed voices, elbows on the cloth table and hands elegantly holding their champagne glasses as I made my way over to the tiny man.

"What do you think you're doing standing in the middle of the restaurant like an idiot. You're disrupting the customers." The balding man hissed, sending me a sharp, judgmental look as I peered down at him.

I blinked.

"You're so small." I smiled, wondering how so much anger could be bottled in such a tiny man as he grit his teeth, grinding them.

"Judging by your appearance, you must be that Veronica girl my god daughter recommended to me yes?" The man chose to ignore my comment as he referred to Polly, his flinty eyes scanning the inked work on the exposed skin of my arms and shoulders as I nodded.

"So, why should I hire you?" The well dressed man asked, looking me over and leading me into the main kitchen where the corridor was filled with bustling, classy uniformed waiters and waitresses, smoothly going in and out dodging one another as if in an in sync dance routine that consisted of trays and plates of fancy cuisine and wine.

"Um, because you told Polly you were hiring?" My voice came out more like a question as he stopped in front of me, employees quickly avoiding him, raising their silver trays over his thinning, round, head and jutting their hips to the side to avoid colliding into him before he turned to look up at me.

"Can't argue with that, alright, I'm Pete, your boss for now. Lucky for you, were short on staff at the moment so go put on an apron and get to washing the dishes over there." Pete instructed, grabbing a white apron from one of the silver counters, tossing it to me before pointing at the stack of dirty dishes in the sink.

"Alan, keep an eye on this one." Pete ordered a tall lean man in a chef uniform, bent at the waist, strong features, slightly sunken, bright eyes deep in concentration as he took his time to drizzle some type of thin, red sauce across the white ceramic plate in front of him, putting the finishing touches on the fancy meal like it was a work of art.

I noticed him and I were the only ones with inked skin as I noticed the tattoos over his exposed forearms, his white sleeves folded as I leaned forward a little so I was eye level with the plate just like him.

"Cool..." I murmured with an amazed voice, staring at his tattoos and his work as he expertly wiped the edge of the plate with a cloth napkin with one precise swipe before putting the cloth over one broad shoulder and straightening to his normal height.

"You like?" He grinned, now acknowledging me with a warm smile as I nodded, gazing down at the perfectly cooked slices of steak and greens.

"Alan, one of the head chefs." He brought his large hand up for mine and when he shook mine his grip was firm, his tattooed skin grazing against my own.

"Ron, new dishwasher." I introduced.

"Great, if you know how to use soap and water, there's no need for me to babysit. Sure you'll be just fine." He casually winked, no hint of flirtatiousness behind his simple gesture as if he did it to everyone before he roughly patted my shoulder and moved on to one of the other chefs who were calling him over.

I put on my apron, already facing the sink of piled dishes and getting started, cleaning halfway through the stack until a loud argument between the waiters and chef carried throughout the kitchen.

"Table number three wants the crab stuffed lobster tail now!" The waiter's impatient voice bellowed as I craned my neck to look over at all the commotion, continuing to scrub a large plate.

"They ordered five minutes ago. Tell them they can stuff their complaints up their asses just like I'm trying to stuff their crab into the lobster tail and we'll see who can finish first." Alan snapped, unapologetic as the waiter rolled his eyes.

"These are the VIP customers!" The waiter whined, flapping the order around in front of Alan's irritated face.

"Oh, god why didn't you say that, that changes everything." Alan blinked his wide green eyes, bringing his tattooed hands to his temples as if his mind was being blown before he raised his arms in announcement, turning to his crew of chefs behind him.

"Everyone, everyone stop what you're doing and forget all the other customers so we can serve the royal VIP table!" He boomed in an overdramatic, sarcastic tone before turning to glance at the waiter's exasperated expression.

The chefs stopped at his command, as if freezing while they exchanged confused looks.

"Oh wait, wait a minute." Alan let out a light laugh, clasping his hands together, the ring of his chuckles sounding clearer now that the noise of the stove and the clinks of the plates seized before he turned to the waiter.

"I don't give a fuck," He snickered, innocently shrugging his shoulders before dropping the big, goofy grin on his face to look back at his employees.

"Back to work." He ordered in a cold tone, and just like that the kitchen was up and running again like nothing ever happened as Alan overlooked everyone, making sure they were back to doing their jobs before his eyes caught mine.

I saluted him before resuming to scrub the plate in my hands at such a quick speed I could have made fire.

Alan looked away with a smirk.

"You don't understand, the people at table three aren't just going to sit around and wait-"

There was a new voice from outside the kitchen in the actual dining area that caught everyone's attention, a mixture of snotty laughter lingering after the man's loud, rude words as Alan and the waiter paused their argument to head towards the doors to check what was going on.

"Really, you keep us waiting and then you decide to spill my wine!" The man in the restaurant scoffed in frustration as my head shot up at the voice.

I knew that voice.

Without thinking I dropped the plate into the sink, wiping the suds on my hands onto my apron as I approached the door, squeezing myself between Alan and the waiter who sent me a look before I spotted the source of the arrogant yells.

Harry looked up at the visibly shaking waiter besides him who was quickly cleaning the spilled wine, the other people at the table covering their snickers and giggles behind their hands, sharing amused expression as Harry pointed at him in a "can you believe this guy" manner, making his company laugh harder.

"Do you even know who I am." Harry tested with furrowed brows, an incredulous grin on his face as the young waiter swallowed, sweating.

"I-I'm so sorry sir, I-I didn't mean-"

"Y-you d-didn't mean what? Good god, guess your speech is just as bad as your serving." Harry mocked with a demeaning smirk as his friends laughed while the waiter, who looked no older than nineteen flushed on the spot.

"You know how much these pants cost? They cost more than your entire yearly salary. Now what would have happened if that wine you spilled stained my Armani pants huh, you going to buy me a new one?" Harry ridiculed, running his ring clad fingers over his lips in amusement as one of the girls besides him swatted him with a shake of her head, laughing while the waiter seemed to be close to tears.

"I-I'd try sir-"

"He'll try." Harry interrupted the boy with a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back and pointing at him.

"He'll try. What are you gonna do, buy a pair of pants from the thrift shop down the street and sew an Armani tag to it." He emphasized, causing his table to uproar with hysteria, wiping imaginary tears and letting out content sighs while all the dressed up clients in the restaurant joined in.

"What a dick." Alan grumbled at my side, making me realize he was still there as he advanced forward, only to be stopped by the waiter besides him.

"Don't do anything stupid, that's table three. Very valued customers-" He cautioned.

"I don't give a damn, he has no right to talk to another human being like that just because his daddy's got him covered in the money department." Alan fumed as I stood frozen at my spot, absolutely appalled.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Styles, is he giving you a hard time?" Pete, the stubby old man who assigned me as the new dishwasher approached the table with hurried steps of his small legs, clasping his hands together with a concerned expression although his eyes seemed to throw daggers at the shrinking waiter.

"Trouble, why would there be trouble." Harry sported a sly grin, sharing quick glances between his friends as if mentally sharing an inside joke before he shifted in his chair, leaning back.

"Not like our food isn't ready and in front of us, or that my wine wasn't almost spilled all over me, or that the most incompetent waiter in this place was the one to serve us." He shrugged.

"I really am s-sorry sir-" The young waiter started.

"Get him out of my face." Harry laughed, waving him off as Pete nodded, turning to glare at the waiter who gulped, head hung low and body shaking before he quickly darted away.

"If there's any way I could make this up to you Mr. Styles..." Pete politely began in a desperate tone before Harry curled his ring finger with a calm expression, gesturing him to lean closer which the small man quickly obliged before Harry looked him dead in the eye.

"Fire him." Harry ordered with a careless grin.

I didn't even realize my feet were moving until I was storming right over there, untying my apron in the process as I heard the crew in the kitchen desperately call me back.

"Of course." Pete nodded his head, pouring Harry another glass of wine with their backs facing me.

Before Harry could even grab the glass I shot out and took it from Pete's grasp, surprising the both of them, Harry's green eyes wide, stunned to find me there before I threw the red liquid over his face, causing the whole table to gasp while Pete paled.

"What the fuck!" Harry sputtered in outrage, immediately rising from his chair drenched and stained with the wine as I stared at him
with a calm face, holding the empty wine glass as his furious eyes met mine while Pete and the girl besides him scrambled to dab his clothes with their napkins.

"Get some class." I told him in an even tone, placing the wine glass and my apron down onto the table before turning and walking out with everyone's eyes on me, leaving an embarrassed Harry speechless and offended.

AN: Harry in this book is so different from the other Harry's from my stories.

The things I do for character development.