bisous

The coffee machine, which at this time normally had a queue for it was completely deserted. The interns were all crowded around one of the computers, going silent when YN walked past. That confused her even more.

Just before her office, two of the reps from the HR department rushed past her. Something had happened, she was certain of it now.

She didn’t know what quite yet but she knew that it was enough to send their two-billion company into panic like this.

When she got to her office, she saw her assistant Melody staring at her phone with more intent than she’d ever seen the girl have for her actual work.

YN dropped her bag on her desk before walking out of her office and towards Melody’s desk.

“Did we lose a client or start a war?” YN questioned, leaning against the divider of Melody’s desk.

“Worse.”

“What?” YN freezes.

“Mr Styles’ ex gave an interview,” Melody responds.

YN lets out the breath she’d been holding, “Oh… I thought someone had actually died or something.”

“It’s worse than that,” Melody retorts.

“Come on,” YN shrugs, “What could she have said that’s so bad?”

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe that our boss is… ‘Completely unable to form personal relationships and only cares about two things… himself and how much money he’s making.”

YN stills once again. Oh. That was bad.

YN turns and walks back into her office, immediately pulling her phone out of her bag and searching up Mr Styles’ name in Google. Every single outlet she could imagine was running the story.

She clicks on the first article. The headline itself causes her eyes to widen. The moment YN saw it she knew that Mr Styles would have already been aware of it. By now he was probably already speaking to PR, investors, the board, management. YN almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

HARRY STYLES’ EX TELLS ALL: “HE ONLY CARES ABOUT HIMSELF.”

YN skims the article quickly, a skill she’s learnt from years of having to consume legal documents at a pace that no human should. It doesn’t necessarily accuse Mr Styles of any crimes (good for her) but it doesn’t exactly paint him in the best light (bad for the company).

Rebecca Cooper describes him multiple times as cold and selfish. Manipulative comes up a few times. Emotionally unavailable and obsessed with his image. YN hasn’t spoken to Mr Styles at all in her life outside of the professional setting, but she just couldn’t believe that he was like this at all.

The more she reads, and the more she consumes of Rebecca’s words, she realises that this article is nothing.

“Every relationship was about what benefitted him.” He’s one of the most wealthy men in the country, he wouldn’t be wasting his time.

“People think he’s kind. They don’t know him.” All opinion, hard to prove in any circumstance at all.

“The version that the public sees isn’t real.” A man is entitled to his privacy.

The statements are so vague, and each is laced with opinion that even if they were to be used legally they wouldn’t get anywhere.

If the interview had contained solid facts, backed with evidence — they could fight it. Feelings and opinions were hard to prove, and were hard to get through the court of public opinion.

The problem wasn’t what Rebecca was saying. The problem was that people wanted to believe it. One headline could undo years of carefully built goodwill.

Just as YN finishes her skim read of the article, an email sent with high importance flashes through on her desktop. She logs in and opens it up.

SUBJECT: BOARDROOM — IMMEDIATE ATTENDANCE REQUIRED

YN doesn’t hesitate. Closing her desktop, she grabs her laptop out of her bag and makes her way upstairs. She assumed that heads of department, or at least semi-important people like herself had been summoned.

That was made clear when she walked into the boardroom. The large glass conference room was already full to the brim. Executives, some that YN hadn’t ever seen before were in attendance, all talking over each other whilst they waited for the meeting to start. The PR team were stood at the front of the room, phones attached to their ears and iPads in their hands, obviously trying to come up with a plan for some kind of damage control.

YN takes a seat in the middle of the table. From first glance, it looked like the only other person there from the Legal Department was Craig, who was in charge of all financial contracts.

Mr Styles walked in a few minutes later, immediately heading to his seat at the head of the table. To YN, he looked tired. His eyes were heavy, and his hair was slightly dishevelled as though his hand had been run through it constantly. He didn’t look messy, he never did — just exhausted in a way his fancy tailoring couldn’t hide.

He looks calm though, to say that a fire was spreading around them.

“Thank you all for coming,” Kelly, the company’s PR Director speaks, “Obviously, as you’re all aware the article and subsequent video interview aired at eight a.m. this morning. The story is now everywhere.”

Charles, a board member spoke up next, “Investors are asking us questions, and we need answers now.”

“Financially we’re stable,” Craig said, “But investors hate uncertainty.”

“Our charity partners are asking questions too,” Another executive added.

Then, Mr Styles spoke, “Questions about an ex-girlfriend saying I was a bad boyfriend?”

The whole room drops silent.

Kelly, seemingly ignoring Mr Styles’ comment clears her throat and turns and looks directly at YN, “Can we sue?”

YN wants to pull a face but she doesn’t. Always, no matter what the circumstance was, people always assumed that the first thing to do in times of difficulty is to sue. News flash — it isn’t.

Even though the question was directed at YN, Charles answers, “Potentially.”

This makes YN speak up, “Not successfully.”

All of the room turns to her, including Mr Styles. There’s a lull where YN realises that they’re waiting for her to expand on what she means.

She clears her throat, “She’s speaking about personal experience… therefore most of the article is opinion. Opinion isn’t defamation and even if we did file, it would end up keeping the story alive for months instead of letting it die down.”

Everyone is listening to her, even Mr Styles. His elbow is leant on the arm of his chair, his finger absentmindedly rubbing across his lip as he listens.

The entire room is trying to defend this emotionally, but YN is trying to explain the facts to them — that this doesn’t contain facts and would go nowhere legally.

“So,” Mr Styles starts, moving slightly in his seat, “Your professional advice is to sit here and enjoy it?”

“My professional advice is to not hand them six more months of headlines.”

The room falls silent, and YN swears she can see the hint of a smile across Mr Styles’ features.

His gaze settled on her for a second longer than necessary. Most people in the room had spent the morning telling him what he wanted to hear. She was the first person who hadn’t.

Kelly breaks the silence, “Fine — legal can’t do anything. This isn’t a legal problem anymore. It’s a public perception problem. The problem isn’t whether she’s telling the truth.”

“Then what is the issue?” Another executive speaks up.

“That people believe her.”

Ideas start to get hauled across the room. Charity appearances. Interviews. Public statements. Social Media campaigns. Each of them Kelly bats away.

Charity work? Too performative.

Interviews? People will assume they’re managing the narrative.

Absolutely nothing works and no matter what these people come up with — Kelly isn’t going to like it. This isn’t the first time a famous CEO has had their name dragged under the mud, and YN assumed that Kelly was working with years of experience to know what is actually going to help to clear Mr Styles’ name.

The room starts to become more tense the more that they realise they have nowhere to turn. They are all talking about him without including him, and from the way Mr Styles’ jaw is tense she can tell he’s becoming more and more annoyed.

They’re talking about him like he’s a product that they’re trying to sell, and not like a man who singlehandedly has given them their careers.

He finally snaps, “I don’t need people to think I’m perfect.”

YN watches as something finally clicks within Kelly’s brain.

“No, you don’t…”

“Then what exactly do you think I need?”

The room falls silent as they watch Kelly ponder Mr Styles’ question. She’s thinking hard, and YN knows that by the lines that have appeared between her eyebrows.

“We don’t just need people to think you’re kind.”

YN watches as Mr Styles sighs.

She continues, “We need people to know that you love someone.”

Faces within the room furrow, including YN’s and Mr Styles’. Everyone is confused. It’s almost as though Kelly’s thinking out loud without making sure what she’s saying make sense.

“Right?” Mr Styles speaks, almost like a question.

“Long term. Someone stable. Someone believable.”

Before anyone says anything else, YN glances up from where she had been face down looking at her laptop, trying to do anything but be a part of this conversation. Mr Styles is looking directly at her. His eyes land directly on hers, just for a second but long enough to send a shiver all the way down YN’s spine.

For the first time that morning, YN had the distinct feeling that whatever happened next was going to become her problem.

The meeting ends after Kelly’s bombshell. People chat idly about the ‘real love’ comment amongst themselves, but YN ignores it.

She closes her laptop, and stands up to leave — assuming that her job was done for the day. The problem was — everyone knows what happens when you assume.

“YN, could you stay behind for a moment?”

It’s Kelly that talks, and YN freezes at the mention of her name. She wants to come up with an excuse, something about too much work piling up but when she notices that Mr Styles is still sitting there — she decides that’s probably not the best impression to make for her boss.

“Is there another contract you’d like me to look over?”

Kelly shares a look with Dana, HR team manager that also lingered. They always spoke their own language with each other, and sometimes it seems they didn’t even have to speak at all.

“Something like that,” Kelly shrugs.

YN’s eyebrows immediately furrow.

Once the room had fully cleared, the atmosphere in the room completely changed. What was once a room filled with panic, became quieter and more uncomfortable. Mr Styles stays still in his seat, his face set.

Turns out she’s not the only one uncomfortable in this situation.

His jaw is tight, completely still. His hands are clasped in front of him and looks as though he hates every second of this.

YN drops back down into her seat.

For some reason she felt like her presence in this meeting had changed from legal necessity to something else entirely.

“A dating rumour’s not going to be enough for this,” Kelly starts, sitting down on the seat across the table from YN. Nerves rushed through her entire body, “We need to make sure that we decide on someone serious, stable and believable.”

“Ok…” YN eyebrows knit together, unsure as to why she was being included in this conversation.

“We need to make Harry look committed, loyal and capable of caring deeply for one person.” Kelly continues, and then the penny drops.

“A girlfriend looks temporary,” Kelly says, “A fiancée looks intentional.”

YN frowns, unable to keep her features professional now, “You’re joking.”

“No,” Kelly shakes her head, “We’re trying to stop the damage before it becomes permanent.”

Mr Styles shakes his head, “It sounds ridiculous because it is.”

YN cannot believe what she is hearing. This team is going to enlist the help of some poor celebrity or influencer whose job is going to be portraying the role of a trophy wife.

Kelly shakes off Mr Styles’ comment, “This person has to be respectable and private — they can’t already have an online profile because it wouldn’t make sense why the public haven’t seen the relationship before. There can’t be a messy dating history. They… they have to work within the company, already seen in the same building but a reason why they haven’t been showing their relationship until now.”

YN stills. From that, she now thinks that they aren’t going to enlist the help of some poor celebrity or influencer anymore.

“Why do I feel like this conversation is about to become my problem?” She mutters with a shake of her head.

“Because you fit the profile perfectly,” Kelly responds.

YN actually laughs. Nobody joins in. The laugh dies almost immediately.

“Oh my God. You’re serious,” YN crosses her arms over her chest, “Absolutely not.”

“Just…” Dana starts, lifting a hand up, “Just hear us out.”

“No!” YN’s voice raises slightly, “I think I heard enough somewhere around fake fiancée!”

YN is horrified. She opens her mouth and nothing comes out, not until all of her thoughts had been properly organised in her head. If there’s anything YN was good at in this life — it was giving arguments strongly.

“It is just completely unethical!” YN starts, leaning forward in her seat slightly, “It creates a power imbalance that could ruin this company! Mr Styles is my boss — everyone’s boss. It could affect my career, damage the reputation I’ve worked so hard to build, and undermine the entire company!”

The room is silent, and even though she knows she couldn’t continue — YN can’t help it.

“You cannot seriously be asking an employee to pretend to be engaged to the CEO.”

“It would be temporary,” Kelly adds, as though that changes everything.

“That makes it worse!”

Dana places her hand on the table, YN assumes to be comforting, “There would be protections.”

YN shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest, “There would need to be divine intervention.”

“We would plan it logistically, make sure every eventuality is covered—”

Before Kelly can continue, Mr Styles interrupts, “Enough. She said no.”

Kelly turns to him, “Harry—”

“No!” It was his turn to raise his voice slightly, “She works here… that doesn’t mean she owes me her life for three months.”

YN turns to him, her lips parted slightly. She hadn’t expected that from him. In fact, in her stress she had completely forgot that he probably wasn’t onboard with this just like her.

Ignoring Kelly, Mr Styles turns and looks directly at YN, “You can walk out right now. No consequences. I’ll make sure of it.”

Rebecca described him as selfish, but in YN’s opinion — this was one of the least selfish things that he could do.

YN doesn’t move, mainly because she’s still in shock. Kelly and Dana obviously take this as a reason to continue their explanation.

“YN, you would stop reporting directly to Harry and we would formally approve everything. Everything would be under contract,” Dana explained, “It will be written and reviewed. You would be compensated for the change in role and it would only last three months at most… just until the public move onto the next rumour.”

“We wouldn’t expect intimacy… and all appearances would be public,” Kelly adds, nodding along with Dana.

“Either party can terminate the contract under certain conditions at any time,” Dana adds, her voice lowering slightly, “And your job would be protected afterwards — we do not want to lose your skills in our legal department because of this.”

YN contemplates their words, “This all seems very convenient.”

“Necessary, more than anything,” Dana responds.

“Three months. Public appearances. A ring. A story. Nothing more.” Kelly adds.

YN shakes her head, unable to stop the chuckle that leaves her lips, “You say that like pretending to marry my boss is a normal Monday.”

“We will have the protections in place,” Dana reiterates, and that annoys YN yet again.

So, with her elbows on the table and her hands clasped together she leans forward.

“You seem to have a lot of this planned out, hmm? So you don’t mind if I ask some questions about the details do you?” She leans back in her chair, “Who exactly is going to know about this?”

“The people who need to,” Kelly responds.

“Cop out answer,” YN shrugs, “What happens if the press finds out?”

“We find a way to change their minds,” Kelly shrugs, staying completely professional, “More public appearances, posts, to change the opinion yet again.”

“What happens after the three months?”

“Sources tell tabloids that the two of you have split amicably,” YN just hums as Kelly’s response.

“What exactly counts as public affection? Who is going to control the narrative?”

Kelly responds with only a sigh, obviously frustrated with YN’s questioning.

YN turns away from Kelly and turns to Mr Styles this time, wanting to ask him and only him this question.

“What happens if this ruins my career?”

“It won’t,” His answer is immediate.

“That’s not a legal answer,” YN retorts.

“Then put it in a contract.”

YN goes silent.

This was completely and utterly absurd. This was not in the contract she signed a few years ago when she got this job. But… this job might not be there if something isn’t done.

“Look, YN,” Kelly sighs, “We understand your hesitancy and your frustration — this isn’t normal. But if this scandal grows, and investors start to panic. All new projects could freeze. And everyone’s jobs could be affected.”

YN sighs. She hates that Kelly might be right. YN hated that she understood the logic. And she hated even more that part of her agreed with it.

“Kelly, Dana,” Mr Styles finally speaks up, “Can I have a moment alone with YN?”

They both open their mouths as though they were going to protest but then they nod, gathering their belongings and slipping out of the room. That leaves just YN and Mr Styles, sitting in silence in the long boardroom.

“Look,” Mr Styles sighs, running a hand over his face, “I don’t want you doing this because they scared you.”

“That’s funny,” YN laughs, “I thought that was their entire strategy.”

“I mean it.”

YN looks in his eyes, and she believes him. She’s found a career around reading people, and she thinks she’s quite good at it.

“Do you want me to say yes?” YN questions.

Mr Styles pauses slightly, as though he’s thinking.

“I want this to go away,” He admits, “But not at your expense.”

“Wow,” YN can’t help but smile, “That almost sounded noble.”

A laugh escapes his lips as well, “Careful. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

YN hesitates, weighing everything she had just been told. She closes her eyes briefly, already knowing that she’s lost.

“If I say yes, I have conditions.”

“I assumed you would.”

“Would you like to hear them?”

He gives her a smile, “I would like nothing more.”

YN clears her throat, counting each of her conditions on her fingers as she rattles them off, “I get to keep my flat, I’m not moving anywhere. I don’t have to do any surprise appearances, I want to know everything in advance. There’s no touching unless absolutely necessary or I agree to it beforehand. None of my personal life is used without my permission. I get to review the final contract, nobody else — me. You do not get to interfere with my career. If I want to end this, I can.”

“Wow,” Mr Styles shakes his head, “I’m impressed.”

“I’m a lawyer… what did you expect?”

“I didn’t expect anything different,” Mr Styles shrugs.

“Well then…” YN sighs, tapping her nails on the desk a few times.

“I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“Don’t push it.” Mr Styles just laughs.

And just like that, YN became engaged to a man she barely knew, for a relationship neither of them wanted, under terms and conditions she was yet to read.

Kelly had told her that they could get one of the other lawyers to look over the contract but YN was having none of it.

So here she was, sitting at her desk, surrounded by paperwork and drafting her very own fake relationship agreement. She would have to let one of the other lawyers look over it, but she didn’t care she just wanted to get it done.

The sound of her typing filled the room. With every word, she just couldn’t believe that she had said yes. That this was happening. Sighing, she continued to make sure that she remained professional and controlled as she continued typing.

She had named the document: Temporary Engagement Agreement.

And, for some reason, seeing that written down made the whole experience worse.

The more YN wrote, the more that she realised she had absolutely no experience in writing temporary engagement contracts, and therefore trying to word some of the clauses caused her head to spin.

She included the important things, including making sure that each party is able to terminate the contract if feelings become “professionally inconvenient.” She adds a clause making sure that her work is protected, and that Mr Styles cannot make any decisions for her.

She realised that drafting this contract was balancing protecting her job and protecting her feelings, whilst also making sure that she could cover every eventuality.

Some of the clauses she was drafting could make anyone laugh, including YN as she was typing it.

Clause 4.2: No party shall use pet names including, but not limited to, baby, sweetheart, darling, angel, lovebug, or any other nickname that may cause nausea.

YN continues typing and editing and changing until she was happy enough to send it for its checks. It came back quicker than anything YN had ever sent before, and then she was printing it off.

Just as she was finishing binding the document, she heard a knock on the door. She looked up to see Mr Styles peering at her through the small window in her door. Rolling her eyes, she waved him in.

“Working hard or hardly working?” He asked, a smile on his face as he sat down on the empty seat across from her.

“It’s so nice to see you too, Mr Styles.”

“Harry.” His eyes fell to the document in her hand, and he pointed to it, “Is that all for me?”

“It’s for us,” YN said with a light shrug, “Unfortunately.”

His mouth twitched, “How romantic of you.”

“Correction, contractual.”

Leaning over, he takes the document out of her hand and starts flicking through it whilst YN watches.

A few pages in, Harry’s eyebrows lifted, “No ridiculous pet names unless at a scheduled event.”

“Correct.”

“What counts as ridiculous?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Anything that may make me cringe.”

Harry purses his lips slightly, “I feel like that may be difficult to govern in a legal document.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s staying in,” YN taps her pen on the desk, pretending its a gavel and that her word is final.

Harry continued reading, and YN can’t help but watch how intently he’s focusing. She can imagine that the amount of documents he reads might actually combat the amount she does, but it’s still odd to see someone reading something she’s written with the same amount of detail she would.

“No real kissing unless necessary,” Harry read, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, “Two queries… what is ‘real’ kissing and who decides its necessity?”

“You know what real kissing is,” YN responds with a roll of her eyes, “And me. I decide.”

“That feels slightly biased,” He shrugs, “What if I decide its necessity.”

“You cannot.”

Harry just hums in response.

He continues reading, and doesn’t stop until he’s finished the entire document. The room is silent, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. In fact, its nice. Once he has finished, he drops the document down on the desk and sighs.

YN watches as his hand runs through his hair.

“You know you can still say no,” Harry said quietly.

YN’s slightly taken a back, she hadn’t anticipated that they would be circling back around to this today.

YN looked at him, “We already covered this.”

“I know,” He nods, “I’m asking again anyway.”

“I’m not being forced,” YN shrugs, “I have agreed all on my own.”

“Good,” Harry nods, “Because I don’t want this if you feel like you are.”

The air in the room suddenly feels heavy, but YN shakes it off and pulls the document towards her instead.

“Okay,” She pulls a pen from the pot on her desk, “Let’s get this over with.”

The pen she chose is the one she saves for special occasions. She’d purchased it for herself when she’d finished her degree. One of those fancy pens, green in colour that she had to order the ink for online. She tapped the lid off and opened to the last page, which waited empty for their signatures.

She hovered her pen over the page for a second, before she dropped it down to the paper.

“Last chance to run?” he asked.

“You’re the scandal, not me.”

He just laughed. That didn’t stop YN from signing her name with a little more pressure than she normally would.

She turned the page and slid it towards him, and in an act of goodwill she passed him the pen. Then, she watched as without any hesitation he signed his name. The now fully completed contract sat in between them on YN’s desk.

Jesus. That was it. Three hours ago this had been a ridiculous idea discussed in meeting rooms and HR offices. Now there were signatures on paper. A contract. A fake engagement that suddenly felt far too real.

“Congratulations,” Harry said, picking up her pen lid and slipping it on her pen.

“On what?”

“On our legally binding fake engagement,” He sighed dreamily, “Our parents must be so proud.”

“Please never say that again.”

Within the space of an hour, the contract had been sent to HR and PR and a meeting had been called in Kelly’s office. The only attendees were Kelly, Dana, Harry and YN.

YN sat with her arms crossed, watching as Kelly and Dana chatted amongst themselves whilst they waited for Harry to arrive. The two women in front of her she had always appreciated as professionals in the workplace, but there was something nagging YN about the two of them.

Probably that they were the ones who got her in this situation.

Harry arrived a few minutes later, dropping down in the seat next to YN, “I’ve got a meeting in twenty so if this can be quick I’d really appreciate it.”

“Lovely to see you too fiancé,” YN smiled.

Kelly rolled her eyes, “Enough of that. So, tonight the public will see you together for the first time.”

YN blinked, shocked, “Tonight?”

“We need to move quickly,” Dana explains, “It has to be tonight.”

“God, I thought I was going to be able to drown my stress with a bottle of wine before we started.”

Kelly ignored her and carried on, “We’ve made you reservations at La Cantina tonight at eight. You’ll eat and then you’ll leave the restaurant together. We’ve made an anonymous tip so a photographer will just ‘happen’ to be nearby.”

“What a crazy coincidence,” YN mutters.

Even though she wouldn’t say that she was watching him, YN did see the corners of Harry’s lips turn up.

“It’s not an announcement yet, but just enough to start the rumour mill going.”

YN overthought everything from that conversation. What she was going to wear, what they were going to talk about and whether or not she needed to take out a loan to be able to afford her meal.

By the time she got home and stood staring at her wardrobe, her nerves hadn’t dissipated at all. She tried on three dresses and an insane amount of skirts before she settled on something she felt confident in it. It was a long sleeved black tight shirt, paired with a wine coloured satin skirt and some boots.

Out of everything in her wardrobe, she believed that this screamed ‘CEO’s Fiancée’. She knew it was fake, but still it was a strange thought to have.

She’d come back to her desk earlier in the day after the meeting with Kelly to a box rested on her desk. It was small, and completely enticing. YN opened it up and a ring sat on the inside. It was a gold band (YN wore gold jewellery) with a diamond and an emerald sitting next to each other (her two favourites). YN would be lying if she said she hadn’t scrolled through rings before, and stopped on this exact one but she never thought she would own it — especially at the price it was.

Harry had picked her up from her flat, and if he had noticed the ring on her finger he hadn’t said anything.

Not until they were part way through the journey.

He glanced at her hand and nodded, “The ring fits.”

YN immediately looked down, trying not to swoon.

“Apparently.”

“Do you like it?”

“That’s… irrelevant.”

“So…” He turns to look at her, the corners of his lips lifting, “That’s a yes.”

“Eyes on the road.”

They didn’t notice any cameras when they arrived, but by the time their starters arrived YN had spotted one outside the door. YN felt hot, and she tried to pull the neck of her shirt away to give her some more air but it didn’t work.

“How’s the food?” Harry asked, watching YN push her sleeves up.

“It’s good. Delicious,” YN responds, continuing to take small bites of her bruschetta between being distracted.

YN twisted her napkin beneath the table. Her water glass was nearly empty from nervous sips alone.

“You always this tense at dinner?” Harry asked, taking a sip of his wine.

YN’s lips curled, “Only when I’m being watched and not only by my date.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” He responds with a smile.

“And also when my date is my fake fiancé who is also the CEO of the company I work for.”

“Also fair.”

Whilst YN’s eyes are constantly darting around, his remain on hers. It’s as though he doesn’t care at all that there’s people waiting for them to leave. It’s like she can’t enjoy her meal for fear of what’s to come.

By the time they’ve finished, and Harry paid for the bill (no loan from YN needed) they’re ready to leave.

“Hey,” Harry makes her look at him before they leave, “I’ve got you.”

YN just nods. Even though she knows what to expect, the second she sees the flashes she’s completely overwhelmed. Her body stills.

Without even hesitating, Harry steps in front of her. He grabs her hand and makes sure that he’s in between the photographers and her.

“Harry! Who’s the special lady? Look this way!”

YN’s stomach dropped but Harry just stepped closer to her, blocking most of the flash with his shoulder and ignoring everything that was being shouted at them.

“You alright?” He murmured, his eyes finding hers quickly.

YN laughs lightly, “This is horrible.”

“I know. Keep walking. I’ve still got you.”

Harry’s grip tightened around her hand, not enough to hurt but just enough to remind her that he was there. Every time a flash went off, he shifted slightly, blocking as much of it as he could.

YN realised he wasn’t performing for the cameras at all. Nobody would have noticed if he’d walked ahead and left her to deal with it alone.

But he didn’t.

By the time that they’ve made it to the car, YN’s exhausted and traumatised and never wants to do that again. Unfortunately, she’s got another three months of this.

The headlines had already dropped as YN stepped into her flat.

HARRY STYLES ENGAGED? MYSTERY WOMAN IDENTIFIED AS COMPANY LAWYER

YN shuddered. Now they knew who she was. She knew it was going to happen, but it still shocked her. YN couldn’t stop staring at the article, horrified that her private life has already become public.

Her eyes skimmed the article quickly:

Sources close to the couple suggest that the relationship has been ongoing for just under a year.

Witnesses described the pair as “comfortable and affectionate” during a private dinner in London.

YN almost audibly laughed. Affectionate? She had spent half of the evening trying not to choke on bruschetta or drop wine down herself.

Her phone pings a few minutes later.

Harry: For what it’s worth, the photos look good.

YN: You think that’s good?

Harry: Compared to my first pap photos.

Harry: Yes.

YN: I look petrified.

YN continued to stare at the photos and realised that this had all happened in less than twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours and her life had changed in an inexplicable way.

It’s been a week.

A week of what YN could only describe as actual hell. Before this little adventure at Pleasing Industries she could mosey on about her day without much hassle, only really interacting with the people she needed to — with this rock on her finger, she couldn’t do that anymore.

Melody had been the first one to say something.

She had cornered YN in her office the day after the headlines dropped and practically forced YN to tell her everything.

“I’ve never even seen you talk to him outside of a professional setting!” She had exclaimed.

YN nearly froze, but then she remembered she was supposed to be playing the loved up fiancée and un-froze herself.

“We hadn’t told HR at that point… we didn’t want to tell anyone until we knew it was serious,” YN shrugged, “When the headline dropped yesterday about Rebecca… Kelly and Dana thought announcing it would be useful.”

Melody gaped at her, “YN… I think an engagement is pretty fucking serious.”

YN’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, “It is.”

“I just wish you’d told me,” the girl whined.

“I know, I wanted to.” YN nodded.

After Melody had finally put her line of questioning to rest, YN carried on with her day. That was until Kelly barged into her room with a handful of dress bags in tow.

“They’re for the event tomorrow,” Kelly explained, “We’ve picked out the ones that will best match with Harry’s suit.”

YN zipped open some of the bags, just to see the array of dresses that had been selected. All of them were gorgeous, way too expensive and way too nice for YN to ever pull off.

“Is this all really necessary?” YN asked, pulling at the long sleeve of one of the dresses.

Kelly gave her a look over her a glasses, “You’re Harry Styles’ fiancée now… unfortunately yes.”

“I’m his temporary fiancée,” YN corrected.

“Not tonight you’re not,” and with that Kelly left her all alone with a sea of dresses.

That led YN to now, standing in her small flat with dresses that probably cost a couple of months’ rent. With just her underwear on, she stared at them and out her hands on her hips. She’d done her hair and makeup — light and simple makeup, and a sleek up-do to compliment the necklines on the dresses.

The one that YN just couldn’t tear her eyes away from was a navy blue piece. It was a strapless satin dress that went all the way down to the floor, but her favourite aspect was the matching satin cape-scarf that went around her neck in the same fabric.

YN would never be able to pull it off, would she?

Deciding that she had at least enough time to try it on, she swapped her bra for a strapless one and slipped the garment over her head. It was exquisite. It hugged all of her curves in just the right places, fit like a glove and the added detail of the scarf just gave such an elegance to the dress.

Spotting a pair of gold heels in the corner of her wardrobe, she decided to try them on with it as well. And, that was the final thing that drew the entire look together.

Part of YN’s brain thought she looked ridiculous and should change immediately — who did she think she was? But then the other part of her brain told her that she was supposed to be playing the role of a CEO’s fiancée and this hit the brief spectacularly.

She decided to keep the dress on — what’s one more thing out of her comfort zone?

A car had been sent to collect her and take her to the venue. A part of her wished that Harry was picking her up but he’d sent her a message saying that something had come up so he’d meet her there.

The entire drive she felt uncomfortably warm. All of her nerves had tripled and she felt as though she was going to throw up.

The car pulled up at the venue, a museum in the centre of London and she wished nothing more that Harry was here to help her get out of the car. What if she tripped? What if she fell flat on her face?

She didn’t have to worry about that for long because just as she was about to open the door, it opened for her.

“Sorry I’m late,” It was Harry, standing there in a navy suit, smiling as he held his hand out for her.

“You’re not,” YN slipped her hand into his, enjoying the warmth it gave her, “In fact I think you’re perfectly on time.”

She used his hand to steady herself as she climbed out of the car, and she didn’t trip or fall flat on her face. Once she was standing, Harry shut the door behind her whilst she smoothed out her dress.

She turned to look at him and caught him looking her up and down. Nerves swirled in the pit of her stomach.

“Will…” Her voice caught in her throat, “Will I suffice?”

“You look gorgeous, YN.”

His words landed harder than they should have. For a second YN forgot about the event and the cameras, she forgot about the contract. She forgot everything but the way that he was looking at her.

He offered her his arm and they started to walk together towards the entrance. YN gripped onto him for dear life, and she assumed that he could feel it.

“You look nervous,” Harry muttered, leaning down so only she could hear him.

“I’m a lawyer walking into a room of cameras… Nervous seems reasonable,” She countered.

“Don’t focus on them,” Harry rested his hand over hers, “Focus on me.”

“They’re literally here to focus on you and me.”

“Exactly,” He shrugged, “Let them do the work… they’re taking photos anyway.”

“I feel like that’s easier said than done,” YN retorted.

She watched as Harry laughed, leading her towards the carpet that went to the entrance.

“We’re just going to pose and then go inside and enjoy our evening,” He murmured, moving one of his hands so it rested on the small of YN’s back.

He let her walk up the stairs first, with him following behind her.

“That’s easier said than done,” YN responded as they reached the top of the stairs.

“Just… when we get there stand slightly turned towards me,” Harry spoke, moving so they were in open space in front of all the cameras.

“So they get my good side?” YN raised an eyebrow, but did what he said.

Harry smiled again, shaking his head. He leant down to whisper in her ear, “You don’t have a bad side… but no, it’s so they actually believe we like each other.”

YN pulled back, a smile on her face mirroring his, “What a terrifying concept.”

“If they get too much just look at me, remember that.”

YN blinked, “That’s your advice?”

“Yes,” he shrugged, “That’s all I’ve got.”

It was overwhelming from the get-go. The flashes were worse than the ones after dinner, they were bigger and brighter. They immediately started shouting Harry’s name, and then some of them start shouting YN’s as well. It’s off putting to say the least.

Harry’s arm moves around her waist, resting just on her hip. Whilst being in this situation with your boss wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world — she found comfort in this.

“Harry! Over here!”

The shouts were constant, but they didn’t seem to affect Harry as much as they were her. But she supposed he was used to it.

“YN! Show us the ring!”

Another photographer pushed forward, and sensing her nerves Harry immediately shifted closer. His hand tightened on her waist. It was subtle and protective, and it created that barrier between her and the crowd.

After that she hesitated, but in a confident move she placed her left hand on Harry’s chest (showing them the ring just like they wanted to.)

Harry leant his head down, just so his mouth was hovering over YN’s ear, “Nice move.”

“I’m a quick learner.”

They continued posing, moving so different cameras could capture different angles.

“YN! Harry! This engagement real or what?”

That one caused YN to freeze, and Harry felt it immediately.

Harry leans back down, “Breathe.”

“I am breathing.” YN responds, slightly deadpan.

“You just stopped.”

“I hate this,” YN finally admitted, pulling away so she could look directly at him.

“I know.” He spoke, the corners of his lips curling upwards.

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because if I stop they’ll think we’re arguing.”

YN was then shot back into the reality that all eyes were on them.

“Harry is there any truth to what your ex said? Are you really as selfish as she claimed?”

That made both of them freeze. Completely unexpected. YN watches as Harry’s smile falters for the first time, and it almost looks as though he’s about to answer it.

Instead, YN turns and offers a smile.

“Well… I think people are more complicated than headlines,” YN tells the reporter with a smile, “And I think it’s unfair to reduce anyone to someone else’s worst version of them.”

Harry is watching her as she speaks, but she focuses all of her attention on the reporter who’s scribbling things down as she speaks.

“So you don’t believe the interview?”

YN gave him another polite smile, although she wanted to give him anything else, “I believe that people should be allowed to be more than a headline.”

And with that, YN pulls away from Harry and grabs his hand, walking them towards the entrance of the museum without another glance behind them.

Harry couldn’t stop staring at her. The entire walk to the museum he stared, and it wasn’t until they were safely inside that he stopped.

Once the doors were shut behind them, they finally let out the breath that they had both been holding.

Under his breath, Harry said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

For a moment, Harry just stared at her. The easy confidence he’d worn outside was gone. He almost looked surprised, as though nobody had defended him in a very long time.

YN just smiled at him and shrugged, “I know.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, after a few moments.

With that same small smile across her face she turned to him, “For what?”

“For making me sound human,” He clarified.

YN’s features dropped slightly, “You are Human, Harry.”

“Not according to Twitter,” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

“Twitter isn’t admissible evidence, lucky for you,” She smiles, holding her hand out for him to grab as they walk further into the event.

Harry laughs and slips his hand into hers. YN shudders slightly as his warm hand grips hers, but she shakes it off and just carries on moving.

Inside the event, YN feels completely out of place.

Her idea of a fun Friday night is sitting in her apartment with shitty reality TV on the screen and a takeaway pizza on her lap. This was completely out of her depth.

The museum had been transformed, lights sparkling and tables covered in white clothes holding small plates of food that YN had never heard of before in her life.

Harry doesn’t let go of her hand, and even when he does his hand just moves to another part of her — her waist, or her back or lightly on her shoulder.

“Harry!” They’d only just grabbed two glasses of champagne when someone called him.

It was an older man, probably in his late fifties, standing next to one of the most glamorous women YN had even seen in her life. She was staring, and completely unapologetically so.

“William,” Harry responded politely, accepting the older man’s extended hand for a handshake.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” William’s attention slightly turned towards YN, “And I now think I understand why.”

“This is YN,” Harry said with a small smile on his face, his hand resting lightly at her back.

“It’s lovely to meet you, YN,” William nodded, “This is my wife, Jillian.”

“It’s lovely to meet the both of you,” YN responded politely.

“What is it you do, YN?” William asked after taking a large gulp of his drink, “It must be something special to catch Harry’s eye.”

YN hesitated, panicking slightly. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“She’s a solicitor, so she’s much more useful than most of us,” Harry responded for her, not intruding just helping.

“Impressive,” William nodded, “Well, enjoy your evening the two of you.”

YN and Harry gave the well wishes back. Once they were alone, YN turned to him and shook her head.

“Compliments weren’t in the contract you know.”

“Don’t worry,” He responded with a smile, “I’ll have legal review it.”

“I am legal,” YN deadpanned.

“Uh,” Harry shrugged slightly, “How convenient.”

Their silence only lasted a few minutes before Kelly found them. Why she was even at this event? YN would never know but she assumed that it was just a ploy to make her life a living hell.

“We just need to take some photos for the museum,” Kelly walks them over to a wall covered in advertising for the museum.

“Do we have to?” Harry all but whines.

“Yes you have to,” Kelly responds back, “We’re trying to get your reputation back on track, right?”

They stand in front of the camera and pose like they had before. It wasn’t as bad, because there was only two photographers inside but YN still didn’t feel completely comfortable with the entire thing.

“Okay…” The photographer says, thinking for a second, “Give her a kiss, Harry.”

Both Harry and YN freeze, as though both of them were toying with their options.

Harry leaned closer to her ear, “Is this okay?”

YN swallowed but nodded, “Clause four says only if necessary.”

Harry’s mouth twitched slightly, “How very professional of you.”

YN rolled her eyes, “Get it over with.”

YN didn’t have time to think anything else before Harry’s lips were on hers.

His lips were soft, and the kiss itself is gentle. Harry’s hand rests on her waist, whilst YN’s rests on his chest. The cameras flash around them, and this entire thing should feel staged but it just… doesn’t.

It was supposed to be quick. A performance. A neat little full stop to the end of a very public sentence.

But Harry paused for half a second too long. Or maybe YN did.

Either way, when they pulled apart, neither of them looked directly at the other.

They walk away from the cameras still not looking at each other. YN all but downs her glass of champagne the second its back in her hand.

She also suddenly became very interested in the pattern of the carpet. Harry seemed equally fascinated by absolutely anything except her. Which would have been comforting it wasn’t so obvious.

“Well,” YN said, smoothing her dress at her sides, “That was… contractually compliant.”

Harry cleared his throat, “Glad to hear it.”

YN rolled her eyes when she saw a boyish glint in his, “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

“I’m not.”

“You absolutely are.” YN retorted.

Harry just shrugged, “I’m professional.”

“That’s my line.”

The evening trickles on, Harry makes a donation that makes YN’s eyes widen in shock and surprised and something else that she couldn’t quite understand.

In the car on the ride home, YN finally pulls her phone out.

It’s there immediately.

Harry Styles and Fiancée Share First Public Kiss After Defending Him on Red Carpet.

Harry sees her looking down at her phone, “You were good tonight, you know.”

YN continued scrolling, “I was acting.”

Harry’s voice softened, “Were you?”

YN looked up from her phone and the questioned lingered between them. It was dangerous and it was unanswered. The driver then announced that they had arrived.

For the first time all evening, YN was disappointed by the interruption.

For the first time since agreeing to the arrangement, YN had an entire weekend free of her fake fiancé. She kept herself holed up in her apartment and didn’t even dare to venture outside.

She spent the majority of her time scrolling through twitter, reading everyone’s opinions of the engagement. People were believing it. Maybe YN was a better actress than she thought she was.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, YN wasn’t quite ready to leave the safe haven of her apartment but she knew she had to. She had dragged herself out of bed, got ready for the day and left with the sinking feeling that she might not be as productive as she was for the foreseeable.

Melody was already there when she arrived, sitting at her desk. To YN, it almost looked as if the girl had been waiting for her.

“How was your weekend, Mrs Styles?” Melody asked, a smile glinting across her face.

“Shush you,” YN dropped her bag down, “It was fine, thank you.”

“What? That’s all I get?” Melody pouted her lips slightly, “I thought you’d be struggling to walk today.”

YN’s mouth immediately dried up, “Sorry, what?”

“C’mon,” Melody sighed, “I’m having to live vicariously through you and that man looked like he wanted to eat you up at that event — I thought you’d barely be able to walk.”

“Well,” YN sighed slightly, “You thought wrong… I am fully in control of all of my limbs.”

“How disappointing,” Melody turned back to her computer before turning back to YN, “Oh! Kelly’s sent you a meeting invite. It’s for the PR conference room in about half an hour — no idea what it’s about though.”

“No worries!” YN’s voice went up a few octaves even without her meaning to.

It didn’t take long for the half an hour to pass and for YN to find herself sitting at the conference room with Harry sitting next to her, Kelly stood staring at them just as she always did.

“Event was good, you guys did great,” Kelly nods, “But we need to make it seem like YN’s more than just the eye candy you take to fancy events.”

“That is literally my new job description, Kelly,” YN sighed, running a hand over her temple.

The corner’s of Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “And how are you proposing we do that Kelly?”

“Well… we need to show you spending more ‘natural’ time together, so that the engagement feels believable. We’ve already got some ideas for that.”

Both YN and Harry nodded. All YN could think was that this was probably going to interrupt her allotted rotting-in-bed time for the week.

“But first… people are going to be asking questions, and the two of you need to have the same answers,” Kelly explains, passing them a sheet of paper that had a list of prompts on it.

YN frowned, “So we’re revising our fake relationship now?”

Harry glanced at her, not even bothering to look at the sheet, “Apparently even lies need consistency.”

“Wonderful.” YN deadpanned, “My law degree prepared me perfectly for Romantic fraud.”

Harry laughs at that, and even YN chuckles lightly. Kelly doesn’t look impressed with either of them.

“We need you both to know the backstory inside out, we can’t have any gaps,” Kelly explains, losing her patience with the both of them, “How you met, your first date, the proposal story. What’s your favourite things about each other, who said I love you first. Things like that. I’ve penciled out this hour for the two of you. You’re not leaving until this is sorted.”

“God,” YN sighed, “I didn’t know this arrangement meant being locked in a room with you against my will.”

“Hey,” Harry retorts, “You signed the contract.”

“Get it sorted,” Kelly interrupts, and with that she leaves the room.

“You know,” YN speaks after the door shuts behind Kelly, “I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“She’s like that with everyone,” Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair, “She just cares, that’s all it is.”

YN just hummed and started to flick through the paper.

“They’ve suggested that we go for something polished and romantic, saying that I wooed you,” Harry reads from the paper.

YN immediately turns her nose up, “I would not be wooed by anyone.”

“Hey, nobody can resist these charms,” He did a light shimmy and YN rolled her eyes.

“The obvious story is that we met at work… I don’t think your investors would be happy to know you were wooing me on company time,” YN retorted.

“Maybe you challenged me in a meeting? I was impressed,” Harry offers.

YN pulls another face, “That sounds like a recruitment advert.”

“Fine,” Harry sighs, “You ignored me in the lift for six months and I found it refreshing.”

“Better,” YN nods, starting to like his thought process, “More believable.”

Harry places a hand on his chest, “You wound me.”

“You’ll recover.” YN nods.

YN found herself watching him more closely than she’d intended. Whenever he was thinking, his thumb brushed absently across his bottom lip, and every so often he’d wet his lips without seeming to notice. It was distracting.

“Who said I love you first?”

After YN asked the question, a silence settled across the room.

Then Harry responded, “Probably me.”

YN seemed slightly offended, “Why you?”

“Because you’d overthink it,” Harry stated with a smile.

He was unfortunately right — she would overthink it.

“What about the proposal, hmm?” Harry hums, leaning back in his seat, “What’s your opinions on that?”

“Cannot be a big thing,” YN shakes her head, “Has to be private, and intimate moment — I would’ve said no if you’d done it in public.”

“Perfect, just us… candlelit dinner, I drop down on one knee. Gotcha.”

YN smiles, he’s catching on fast.

Over the next few days, YN knows everything that a fiancée should. Small things that normal employees would never need to know. That he likes a black coffee in the morning, but prefers something sweet in the afternoon for a sugar boost.

That he goes for a run every morning at 5am. YN shudders at that. She couldn’t think of anything worse than getting out of bed before her alarm sounds at 7am.

He knows things about her too. That she can only fall asleep after reading some of her book and shutting her brain off. That she’s absolutely unbearably grumpy in the mornings before her coffee, with oat milk obviously because her stomach can’t handle anything else.

She didn’t think anything of it — just that they’d carry on as they were knowing this information until the one moment where they’d have to use it.

That’s why she was surprised when he showed up at her door with an iced caramel latte with oat milk the next day.

“Caramel, right?”

YN blinked at him, “You remembered?”

Harry just shrugged, “Felt like something a fiancé would do.”

“Oh, so it’s all for the act?” YN raised her eyebrows, accepting the cold drink.

“I prefer that I’m charmingly observant.”

YN shook her head, “Let’s not get carried away.”

It didn’t stop there.

YN was following him up to Kelly’s office to discuss their next move when she lost him.

One second he was next to her, and then he was gone. She did a full 360 turn before she spotted him leaning against one of the cubicles on the PR floor.

“How did Chris’ exam go?” YN’s eyebrows furrowed at his words.

“Oh it went fine, Harry, thank you for asking,” Carrie responded, a smile crossing her lips.

“I know you were worried about it last week.”

“Yeah, he was too. He said that it went well though, so fingers crossed.”

YN watched as he raised his crossed fingers up at her and then turned back to her. They carried on walking to Kelly’s office as though nothing had happened.

It didn’t stop there.

A day later YN was in Harry’s office going through a contract with him when his assistant, Kyle, opened the door with a large bouquet of flowers in his hand.

YN furrowed her eyebrows, “Are the flowers for another staged appearance?”

Harry’s expression shifted slightly, “No.”

“Sorry…” YN felt instantly guilty, “I didn’t mean—”

“One of our finance assistants lost her father. She’s been here nine years,” he explains.

YN feels even worse, “You know every employee that well?”

“No,” He admits, “But I like to know when they’re hurting.”

YN lets that ponder for a second, before she has to turn back to the contract before she says something stupid again.

The more time that she spent with Harry, the more she realised that maybe there was a reason they wanted to clear his name after the interview so strongly.

YN had spent days trying not to form an opinion about Harry Styles. It had seemed easier that way. But the man in the headlines and the man quietly sending condolence flowers from his office did not seem to be the same person.

That became way more apparent to YN late one evening, where it was just YN and Harry in his office finishing up a large sales contract that had to go out the next day.

They had been working in silence for a while, Harry sat at his desk whilst YN lounged on his couch with her laptop on her knee. The question had been swimming around in her head for a while, and she just thought fuck it — she might as well ask him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“That depends,” Harry responds, leaning back in his office chair, “Is it about this riveting contract? Or something else?”

“Something else,” YN admits.

“Go for it,” He moves slightly so he can see her between his desktop screen.

“Why haven’t you defended yourself?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Why don’t you say something?” YN pressed, “About what Rebecca said.”

Harry just shrugs, “Because people hear what they want to hear.”

“That’s not an answer,” YN retorts.

“It’s the only one I have.”

“Harry,” She responds, “Come on.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “She knew that it would hurt. That I worry I’m too distant. Too selfish. She didn’t need to invent the insecurity… she just needed to make it public.”

A silence falls between them. YN hadn’t been expecting that at all.

“Being afraid of being selfish doesn’t make you selfish,” She responds quietly.

“No?”

“No,” YN shakes her head, a small smile crossing her features, “Selfish people don’t worry about the damage they cause.”

Harry looks at her, properly looks. The expression on his face confuses YN, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Do you always talk like this?”

“Like what?” She asks, eyebrows furrowing.

He gave her a smile, “Like you’re trying to save someone with a closing argument.”

“Eh,” YN shrugged, “Occupational hazard.”

They continue working, way into the night. They should have gone home hours ago and yet they’re just happy in each other’s company in Harry’s office.

At one point, YN had completely abandoned her laptop and instead laid down on his couch with her eyes closed whilst she listened to Harry typing.

“Tea?” The sound of Harry’s voice scared YN out of her daydream.

“Is this a part of the engagement training?” YN opened one of her eyes to look at him.

“No,” He laughed, “This is part of you almost falling asleep on my sofa.”

“Then yes.”

Harry smiled and turned the kettle on, “You’re very agreeable when you’re tired.”

“Enjoy it, it won’t last,” YN responded, her eyes falling closed again, “I’ll be back to normal after some sleep.”

He let the tea stir before he passed it to her, and she was grateful. She had what her dad always described as a builders tea, and Harry made a good one.

“Thank you, for earlier,” He said as he passed her the mug.

“I didn’t do anything,” YN shrugged.

“You listened,” He responded, “That’s not nothing.”

Somewhere between the coffee in the morning, the flowers sent quietly without expectation of praise, and the cup of tea he’d made while pretending not to notice she’d nearly fallen asleep on his sofa, he’d stopped being Mr Styles.

He’d become Harry.

Just Harry.

And somehow that felt far more dangerous that pretending to be in love ever had. 

YN was attending the Pleasing Industries annual Charity Gala tonight.

She had been before, obviously, but never on the arm of the CEO. 

It was a fun night. There was an auction and Harry usually made a speech and YN usually kept a safe distance away from him sipping on fancy champagne and eating too many canapés.

Tonight would be different — because she was on his arm.

She’d been sent to a hotel near the venue after work under Kelly’s instructions, saying that there would be a team there waiting to help her. What that meant YN had no idea, but she wasn’t going to go and start asking Kelly — she was just going to listen.

What it actually meant was that a team of stylists, hairstylists and make up artists were all waiting in there for her. Her outfit, hair and makeup had already been chosen for her, and YN wasn’t complaining. If there was one thing she usually hated about these events was trying to dress her outside out of her usual loungewear/ workwear wardrobe.

The dress itself was gorgeous. It was a burgundy colour and went all the way down to the floor. It had a slit going up the front that landed just to her mid-thigh. The most gorgeous thing to YN was the neckline — it was square and thin triangular straps went over her shoulder. It was classy, and elegant and exactly what the fiancée of a CEO would wear to his charity gala.

The makeup was light, which YN was thankful for, but flawless. It didn’t cake her face, but instead highlighted her natural features. Her hair had been styled into a perfectly manicured up-do with pieces framing her face. She’d been given earrings, and rings and bracelets to match and they wanted to give her a necklace but she said no — saying that the neckline of the dress did all the necessary talking.

The entire time they worked she stayed pretty silent. She nodded along and answered their questions politely but in her head she just kept going through everything she had to remember — to smile, to stand next to Harry, to answer questions and most importantly don’t embarrass Harry or herself.

By the time she was ready, and the team had vacated the room she let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. It wasn’t for long, though, because a few minutes later a knock sounded at the door.

Harry was behind it. Wearing a perfectly tailored suit, black, but the thing that caught YN’s eye immediately was his tie — burgundy, a perfect match to her dress.

For a second, the two of them stood in the doorway of her hotel room not speaking, just staring at each other in silence.

After a while, Harry broke it, “… Wow.”

YN laughs awkwardly, shifting from side to side on her heels, “Please don’t say I look ridiculous.”

Harry immediately shakes his head, “Ridiculous wasn’t the word I had in mind.”

Harry hesitates for a second, a silence falling between them once more.

“You look…” He stops himself with another shake of his head, “… Beautiful.”

YN immediately looks away, already feeling her skin heating under his gaze.

“I feel like you’re contractually obligated to compliment me,” She responds, attempting to lighten the room.

Harry just smiles back, “I don’t think I remember that being one of the clauses.”

Another beat. He’s looking at her again. Then he lifts his arm up for her.

“Ready?”

YN nods, exhaling a deep breath, “As I’ll ever be.”

All the previous times YN had gone to the Charity Gala, the cameras hadn’t flashed for her. She’d been able to scuttle up the carpet to the entrance without them even batting an eyelid. It wasn’t the case this time.

The second her heel met the carpet, and her hand slipped into Harry’s — she was done for.

The cameras flashed, the reporters shouted and even though YN should be getting used to this — she wasn’t.

“Slow down,” Harry spoke through his smile as YN charged ahead along the carpet.

“I’m walking,” She responded, slowing down to his pace when Harry’s hand wrapped around her waist.

“You’re speed walking.”

“I’m panicking!”

“I noticed,” He gave her hip a light squeeze, “I’m here… slow down.”

There moment was interrupted by more flashes and more shouting.

“Harry! YN over here!” One of them shouts, so they follow, “How’s the wedding planning going?”

Harry glances at YN, who gives him a small nod before exhaling a breath and turning back to the reporter.

“Neither of us has a lot of free time,” She responded.

The reporters around them laugh, “Who’s the wedding planner?”

“Definitely not him,” YN motions to Harry who acts shocked in response.

The reporters laugh once more. Then after a quick thanks, they continue up the carpet to the entrance.

Harry reaches out his hand to help her up the stairs, holding her steady as she lifts her dress so that she doesn’t trip over it.

It’s just a small movement, but it means everything to her.

They’re being stopped before YN even has the opportunity to grab a cocktail.

There older board members, charity organisers and donors. People that YN has only even known by name, and never spoken to before.

People ask about her, and how the wedding planning is going and they respond every time almost in sync — they’re believable.

She also notices that Harry always has a question to ask in response — whether it’s about their daughter, or congratulating another on their retirement — he always has something to say.

It’s just another thing to add to YN’s list of contradictions YN’s creating to Rebecca’s claims.

YN started to realise that maybe people were always looking at the CEO, and never at the man.

After around half an hour of greetings, Harry is pulled away from her to do his speech. He leaves their table and gives her a light kiss on her cheek before he walks up to the stage. Even once he’s talking, YN can still feel Harry’s lips on her cheek.

He didn’t have notes in his hand as he spoke, it just seemingly came from his heart — but YN knew that he was probably nervous.

“Leadership isn’t measured in titles, or it never has for me. It’s measured by what people feel when they leave a conversation with you. Did you make someone day easier? Did you listen? Did you leave them better than you found them?” He clears his throat slightly, “This is the eighth annual charity gala for Pleasing Industries, and over those years we’ve helped thousands of people in need — let’s continue for another eight. Thank you.”

The crowd applauds, and so does YN. For some reason, something burned within her chest. A feeling of proudness, proud of Harry for standing there and acknowledging that despite what the tabloids say — he is and has always done good.

YN sits at the table, cocktail in her hand whilst she watches Harry be congratulated by people after his speech. There’s a smile on his face, and YN can’t help but smile too.

He’s pulled away by a donor, but he lifts up a finger to her saying he’ll only be a minute. YN shakes it off and tells him to go ahead.

Thirty seconds later, the chair next to her scrapes against the floor. She had assumed it would be Harry, but instead Rebecca sat down in the empty seat. She’s dressed to the nines, obviously, and from just looking at her YN knew she was here with an agenda. 

“So…” Rebecca smiles, “You’re the famous fiancée.”

YN just smiles politely in response, “Nice to meet you.”

Rebecca laughs lightly, “Is it?”

YN doesn’t rise to it, “I believe so.”

Rebecca looks her up at down, but YN remains completely still under her gaze, “You’re pretty.”

YN shrugs, “He has good taste.”

“For now.”

YN can’t help but stiffen slightly, and she knows that Rebecca notices.

“Don’t worry,” Rebecca shakes her head lightly, a smile crossing her lips, “He’ll convince you you’re the most important person in the room… Then one day…” She shrugs, “You’ll realise you weren’t.”

YN attempts to keep her face straight, “You don’t know our relationship.”

“No,” Rebecca agrees, “But I know Harry.”

YN stays silent. They were together for three years, so it was obvious that Rebecca knew Harry. But then again, maybe she didn’t because that interview did not scream that she knows him.

“Just…” Rebecca starts again, “Just don’t build your whole life around someone who only knows how to build companies.”

And with that, she pushes herself up from the table and walks away, heels clicking with every step.

YN stares straight ahead, letting Rebecca’s words linger for longer than she probably should have.

Harry returned to the table a few minutes later, a smile still across his features. He takes one look at YN sitting there and his face drops.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” YN shakes off, resting her hand on his arm to usher him to sit down. He does, but he doesn’t look convinced.

“YN.”

“I’m fine,” She smiles.

“No you’re not,” He responds, “You’re lying.”

“Lawyers are very good at that, you know,” She offers, trying to believe her own words.

Then, YN sees him looking over her shoulder. YN turns just at the perfect opportunity to see Rebecca walking out of the gala.

Without a second thought, Harry stands up and extends his hand out to YN. She takes it.

He turns to the donors and board members to say, “Would you excuse us?” And then he walks them out of the venue.

YN was actually thankful to feel the cool night air on her skin. She hadn’t realised she was feeling clammy, but she definitely did now.

They lean against the railing, and don’t say anything for a while. Underneath the soft moonlight, she can see that Harry’s jaw still hasn’t unclenched.

After a few minutes he says, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” YN responds, looking at him still even though he was facing straight ahead.

“I should have protected you.”

“From your ex?” YN almost laughs, “I think I can handle her.”

“From becoming part of this,” He shakes his head lightly.

He turns to her, and there’s genuine guilt sitting in his eyes, “You never asked for someone else’s mess. You don’t deserve to become my collateral damage.”

YN can’t help it. The more he speaks and the more he keeps apologising, the more frustrated she becomes.

“Stop apologising!” Harry just blinked at her, “I chose this!”

“YN—”

“No!” She exclaims, “Listen to me. I chose this! I signed that contract. I knew exactly what people might say. This isn’t something happening to me, this is something I agreed to!”

All of Harry’s features drop. Then quietly, he says, “You shouldn’t have to.”

YN laughs slightly, “Occupational hazard. Lawyers sign things all the time, I knew what I was doing.”

Harry actually laughs this time, and it’s almost music to her ears.

Harry turns to her, fully now. The distance between them is minimal and it’s all YN can think about.

A shiver spreads through her body and without even thinking Harry’s shrugging his blazer off and wrapping it around her shoulders.

“You’ll freeze,” She murmurs as the jacket engulfs her.

Harry just shrugs, “Worth the risk.”

There’s nobody around them. No watching eyes, no reporters — nobody. It’s just them. They shouldn’t be this close, and both of them know it.

Harry reaches up and brushes the strand of her hair that had fallen in her eyes off her face. YN takes a step closer to him, almost leaning into his touch. Harry mirrors it.

“Nobody’s watching,” She whispers.

Harry’s breathing catches slightly in his throat, “I know.”

Their lips are inches apart at this point and if either one of them moved even just an inch they’d be touching — but neither of them did.

Then Harry abruptly steps back, almost as though he’s having to physically pry himself away from her.

“That, uh, probably goes against all the clauses in the contract.”

YN tries to smile, but she can’t hide her disappointment, “Probably.”

Then they stand there, both of them in complete and utter silence, realising that everything has changed.

Their car arrives a few minutes later, and the silence continues. Harry opens the door for her, and they both slip in quietly. Neither of them can look directly at the other — they just can’t.

As they drive away, YN stares out of the window.

For the first time since signing the agreement, she isn't worried about pretending to be Harry's fiancée.