Business Proposal
First week at his house
Mel POV
Mel when down stairs in search for food and also Harry, but harry was nowhere to be found. Everything around her was completely different from what she was used to. She wanted warmth, life, laughter. This home had none of that. The living room was decorated in light wood and stainless, and black and white furniture, there was on colour. The kitchen was amazing – full of every appliances Mel had ever wanted and dreamed of. But the room itself left her cold.The only place where she felt at home was her room. The room itself had warmth to it that the rest of the house lacked.
Harry was never home and it wasn’t really a problem for Mel. Since she had her own friends and her own job to keep her busy. It was just odd, she thought. It was like being married to a ghost. He came home late, went into his study, then to bed. He only stopped by the kitchen, occasionally checked in with her to see how she was, and he was gone again in the morning before Mel was up.
On Saturday morning, Mel woke up starving. She wanted coffee and breakfast. Padding down to the kitchen, she looked into the fridge, but saw nothing that resembled breakfast food. She leaned back against the countertop and wondered what in the world Harry ate. She knew that he often ate breakfast on the run, and had business dinners frequently, but this was silly, she thought. And she could not live like this for three years. After going for a run, Mel showered and changed her clothes; she grabbed her purse and headed for her car. After a quick stop at a cafe, she continued up the road to the shopping centre. Five hours later, she returned to the house, her trunk filled with groceries, and her back seat laden with purchases from the local home decorating store. She wasn’t planning to change Harry’s entire house. But her living space was going to be transformed, and she was claiming the kitchen. After decorating the living room and her bedroom, Mel went back to the kitchen, she put away groceries, organised the pantry shelves and stocked the fridge.
Harry wouldn’t even notice, she thought with amusement, looking around the room when she was done. Everything was in its place. Besides, the man was never at home, and when he was, he as in his office. Mel wondered if Harry even realised that he had a kitchen some day. It was Saturday, and normally she went out for drinks or dinner with friends, or met with her parents. She was staying clear of the flammable cargo explosion that was her family’s current state. Tonight her plan was to stay home.
Glancing at her watch, Mel realised that it was close to 5:00. She hadn’t seen harry all day, and since he hadn’t made the checking in with her a habit, she decided that she was going to do her own thing. And her own thing, at least for tonight involved cooking dinner.
Harry POV
At 7:00, Harry pulled into his driveway. He hadn’t meant to spend all day at the office, but things just happened that way. He also had the chance to spend lunch with the guys. He felt a little badly that he’d abandoned Rose soon after she moved into his house. She was a professional woman and she would figure her own life out. And she was dealing with her family. Plus, she had just gotten back from a trip, he reasoned. She probably slept in, maybe took a nap later in the day. He’d check in on her tonight before heading into his home office just to be sure that she was comfortable and settled.
The amazing aroma was the first thing that hit him when he walked in the door. It was a combination of tomato, garlic, onion Italian seasonings and warm bread and it hit all his senses.He stopped for a moment, puzzled. Why would caterers be in his kitchen? They had no event tonight that he remembered. But then again he thought, even when the caterers showed up, nothing ever smelled like this.
Harry pulled off his overcoat and hung it in the closet before making his way to the kitchen. Where is jaw dropped?
Rose’s back was to him. Her hair had been loosely gathered on top of her head, but the tendrils of wavy curls escaped, hanging loosely to her shoulder. Her butt was lovingly encased in a pair of worn denim jeans, and they had flour handprints on them. She was standing over the cook top, a frying pan in hand slowly pouring a wet mixture onto the pan and letting it cook. He looked around the house and noticed the decorations. Well I guess she had a productive day instead of napping.
Harry took all of it in, his emotions churning. The aroma was heaven, and he wanted whatever it was she was making. With her attention fully on the food she was cooking, she was the sexiest thing he’d seen in a long time. He hadn’t realised how curvy she was, and wondered why he hadn’t noticed. But he was noticing now, he thought. And while the mess, she had made in his kitchen was positively astounding, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t mad. His emotions were far from anger. Because the main thing he felt, staring at Rose in his kitchen was a sense of home.
It was the last emotion that caused harry to retreat. If Rose had looked up while he was standing there, she would have been shocked to see the almost tender look on his face-a look that rendered him human and his feelings for his wife. He leaned against the doorway to the kitchen and cleared his throat, his emotions were tucked back in, and all Rose saw when she looked up at him in surprise, was a vague appearance of irritation.
“What, in God’s name, have you done to this kitchen?” he asked softly
She wiped her brow with her shirt sleeve as she moved another manicotti noddle to the dry rack. “I’ve kind of a mess,” she admitted with a grin as she looked around. “I’ll clean it up, though. I always make a mess when I cook. I didn’t think you’d mind, since we don’t have anything going on tonight. I was in the mood to cook and when.....”
At this point, I wasn’t interested, but I was more interested on her lips. It must have registered to Rose that I wasn’t amused. “You’re angry.”
Harry wanted to tell her that he was angrier that he couldn’t feel the taste of her sweet lips. But he quickly tucked his emotions back in. “Look at this place.” Nice work jack ass, as he thought to himself.
“Yeah. I know. But I’ll clean it up, Harry.”
“That’s not your job,” he growled.
He noticed that Rose had stopped what she was doing then and looked up at him. “Job?” she asked. “Do you really think I see this as a job, Harry?” she asked indicating the mess in the kitchen. “Do you honestly just want me to live here, go to work, come home, stay in my room, and only come out when you want me go to some function with you? I agreed to be your wife for three years, not to give up my life.”
Harry was shocked that she felt that way; she wants her to be comfortable, happy and settled in our home. “This is your life, cooking and making a mess?”
“Yeah,” she said softly after a few moments. “It is. I love to cook. You’d have known that if you bothered to learn anything about me. I love entertaining and pairing amazing wines and food together. I love to bake and to experiment with different types of food. I listen to Country, classical and alternative music.Oh, and I’m a damn good lawyer, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” he said mildly.
“Oh, so that part of my life you checked out.”
“Of course.”
She sighed. “I guess I’m not surprised.”
Leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms, he asked “You swim?” perv
“Huh.”
“Why?”
“I sometimes need to clear my mind.”
“Country music?”
“Blake Shelton, The band Perry and Carrie Underwood.”
“I’m more of a Beatles kind of guy.”
She just looked at him in surprised.
“I would never have pegged you as a Beatles kind of guy.”
He gave her, his best cheesy smiled. He could tell that the smiled had worked it magic that left her with a weak respond.
“Seriously, Rose. You’ve made one hell of a mess. Are those stains going to come off the tile?” but his eyes were still smiling as he asked.
She smiled back. “Yeah, they would come off.”
Pushing himself away from the doorframe, he ventured further into the kitchen. “So what are you making?”
“Manicotti.”
“From scratch,” he said. He felt proud at his choice of wife.
“Yeah. That why the kitchen is such a mess.”
“Is there enough to share?” he asked.
She burst out laughing. “Harry, it’s enough to feed an army. I was going to freeze some for our lunches. So yes, there is more to share.”
“May I choose the wine?”
“Absolutely, Dinner won’t be ready for another half an hour at least, though,” she warned.
“I’ll open the bottle and join you. I assume you drink while you cook?”
“I do.”
“Good. I’ll be back."
Mel when down stairs in search for food and also Harry, but harry was nowhere to be found. Everything around her was completely different from what she was used to. She wanted warmth, life, laughter. This home had none of that. The living room was decorated in light wood and stainless, and black and white furniture, there was on colour. The kitchen was amazing – full of every appliances Mel had ever wanted and dreamed of. But the room itself left her cold.The only place where she felt at home was her room. The room itself had warmth to it that the rest of the house lacked.
Harry was never home and it wasn’t really a problem for Mel. Since she had her own friends and her own job to keep her busy. It was just odd, she thought. It was like being married to a ghost. He came home late, went into his study, then to bed. He only stopped by the kitchen, occasionally checked in with her to see how she was, and he was gone again in the morning before Mel was up.
On Saturday morning, Mel woke up starving. She wanted coffee and breakfast. Padding down to the kitchen, she looked into the fridge, but saw nothing that resembled breakfast food. She leaned back against the countertop and wondered what in the world Harry ate. She knew that he often ate breakfast on the run, and had business dinners frequently, but this was silly, she thought. And she could not live like this for three years. After going for a run, Mel showered and changed her clothes; she grabbed her purse and headed for her car. After a quick stop at a cafe, she continued up the road to the shopping centre. Five hours later, she returned to the house, her trunk filled with groceries, and her back seat laden with purchases from the local home decorating store. She wasn’t planning to change Harry’s entire house. But her living space was going to be transformed, and she was claiming the kitchen. After decorating the living room and her bedroom, Mel went back to the kitchen, she put away groceries, organised the pantry shelves and stocked the fridge.
Harry wouldn’t even notice, she thought with amusement, looking around the room when she was done. Everything was in its place. Besides, the man was never at home, and when he was, he as in his office. Mel wondered if Harry even realised that he had a kitchen some day. It was Saturday, and normally she went out for drinks or dinner with friends, or met with her parents. She was staying clear of the flammable cargo explosion that was her family’s current state. Tonight her plan was to stay home.
Glancing at her watch, Mel realised that it was close to 5:00. She hadn’t seen harry all day, and since he hadn’t made the checking in with her a habit, she decided that she was going to do her own thing. And her own thing, at least for tonight involved cooking dinner.
Harry POV
At 7:00, Harry pulled into his driveway. He hadn’t meant to spend all day at the office, but things just happened that way. He also had the chance to spend lunch with the guys. He felt a little badly that he’d abandoned Rose soon after she moved into his house. She was a professional woman and she would figure her own life out. And she was dealing with her family. Plus, she had just gotten back from a trip, he reasoned. She probably slept in, maybe took a nap later in the day. He’d check in on her tonight before heading into his home office just to be sure that she was comfortable and settled.
The amazing aroma was the first thing that hit him when he walked in the door. It was a combination of tomato, garlic, onion Italian seasonings and warm bread and it hit all his senses.He stopped for a moment, puzzled. Why would caterers be in his kitchen? They had no event tonight that he remembered. But then again he thought, even when the caterers showed up, nothing ever smelled like this.
Harry pulled off his overcoat and hung it in the closet before making his way to the kitchen. Where is jaw dropped?
Rose’s back was to him. Her hair had been loosely gathered on top of her head, but the tendrils of wavy curls escaped, hanging loosely to her shoulder. Her butt was lovingly encased in a pair of worn denim jeans, and they had flour handprints on them. She was standing over the cook top, a frying pan in hand slowly pouring a wet mixture onto the pan and letting it cook. He looked around the house and noticed the decorations. Well I guess she had a productive day instead of napping.
Harry took all of it in, his emotions churning. The aroma was heaven, and he wanted whatever it was she was making. With her attention fully on the food she was cooking, she was the sexiest thing he’d seen in a long time. He hadn’t realised how curvy she was, and wondered why he hadn’t noticed. But he was noticing now, he thought. And while the mess, she had made in his kitchen was positively astounding, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t mad. His emotions were far from anger. Because the main thing he felt, staring at Rose in his kitchen was a sense of home.
It was the last emotion that caused harry to retreat. If Rose had looked up while he was standing there, she would have been shocked to see the almost tender look on his face-a look that rendered him human and his feelings for his wife. He leaned against the doorway to the kitchen and cleared his throat, his emotions were tucked back in, and all Rose saw when she looked up at him in surprise, was a vague appearance of irritation.
“What, in God’s name, have you done to this kitchen?” he asked softly
She wiped her brow with her shirt sleeve as she moved another manicotti noddle to the dry rack. “I’ve kind of a mess,” she admitted with a grin as she looked around. “I’ll clean it up, though. I always make a mess when I cook. I didn’t think you’d mind, since we don’t have anything going on tonight. I was in the mood to cook and when.....”
At this point, I wasn’t interested, but I was more interested on her lips. It must have registered to Rose that I wasn’t amused. “You’re angry.”
Harry wanted to tell her that he was angrier that he couldn’t feel the taste of her sweet lips. But he quickly tucked his emotions back in. “Look at this place.” Nice work jack ass, as he thought to himself.
“Yeah. I know. But I’ll clean it up, Harry.”
“That’s not your job,” he growled.
He noticed that Rose had stopped what she was doing then and looked up at him. “Job?” she asked. “Do you really think I see this as a job, Harry?” she asked indicating the mess in the kitchen. “Do you honestly just want me to live here, go to work, come home, stay in my room, and only come out when you want me go to some function with you? I agreed to be your wife for three years, not to give up my life.”
Harry was shocked that she felt that way; she wants her to be comfortable, happy and settled in our home. “This is your life, cooking and making a mess?”
“Yeah,” she said softly after a few moments. “It is. I love to cook. You’d have known that if you bothered to learn anything about me. I love entertaining and pairing amazing wines and food together. I love to bake and to experiment with different types of food. I listen to Country, classical and alternative music.Oh, and I’m a damn good lawyer, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” he said mildly.
“Oh, so that part of my life you checked out.”
“Of course.”
She sighed. “I guess I’m not surprised.”
Leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms, he asked “You swim?” perv
“Huh.”
“Why?”
“I sometimes need to clear my mind.”
“Country music?”
“Blake Shelton, The band Perry and Carrie Underwood.”
“I’m more of a Beatles kind of guy.”
She just looked at him in surprised.
“I would never have pegged you as a Beatles kind of guy.”
He gave her, his best cheesy smiled. He could tell that the smiled had worked it magic that left her with a weak respond.
“Seriously, Rose. You’ve made one hell of a mess. Are those stains going to come off the tile?” but his eyes were still smiling as he asked.
She smiled back. “Yeah, they would come off.”
Pushing himself away from the doorframe, he ventured further into the kitchen. “So what are you making?”
“Manicotti.”
“From scratch,” he said. He felt proud at his choice of wife.
“Yeah. That why the kitchen is such a mess.”
“Is there enough to share?” he asked.
She burst out laughing. “Harry, it’s enough to feed an army. I was going to freeze some for our lunches. So yes, there is more to share.”
“May I choose the wine?”
“Absolutely, Dinner won’t be ready for another half an hour at least, though,” she warned.
“I’ll open the bottle and join you. I assume you drink while you cook?”
“I do.”
“Good. I’ll be back."
Notes
Sorry for the one chapter update but i would try to update more. please be patience with me because this is my first book and i want everyone that is reading to enjoy it.<3 <3 <3 thanks for your support <3 <3
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@CEO Harry Styles
Thanks for loving this book and also the positive comment
7/19/14