His Perfect Boy (DDLB) (ManxMan)

3.

Harry's office was so different from what I had expected and I don't even know what I had been expecting. It was white walls, floor length windows on one side of the wall, the other walls decorated with charcoal drawings of eyes, lips, a side profile that was obscured by curly hair.

He had a stylish comfortable looking chair, a large oak table with an iMac, an easel with a canvas set up on the other side of the office. There was a humidifier and the entire room smells just like it did outside. It smelt like lavender.

"You may have a seat." Harry said as he walked over to his chair behind the large table. I plopped onto one of the guest chairs, fingers playing with my pants. My palms felt sweaty and I somehow could not find myself to speak yet.

"You want to get the lonely girl painting?" Harry asked once he was seated, his hands placed on the table, fingers latched.

"Is that the name of the painting?" I found myself asking. I mentally pat myself on the back for asking something sensible. This was not how I pictured myself talking to Harry again. Scratch that, I never imagined that I would ever meet Harry again and yet here we are.

"Yes. The Lonely Girl painting by Malik, he is a promising artist who is very talented." Harry said, staring right at me. He didn't drop his gaze and instead focused on my face. I was filled with the need to touch my face, maybe scratch my brow or just brush my cheek. I felt like I needed to do something rather than just sit still like I was doing.

"He's really good."

"We also have a couple of his other works, if you would like to see them as well?" Harry asked and I found myself nodding along despite not being completely sure about what he was talking about. Fuck, this was a bad idea. I should leave. I even left Kenneth out there. He hadn't even called to check where I was yet, so maybe he was still on that call.

"I would like to see them."

"For the purchase of The Lonely Girl, the price is forty thousand." Harry said, finally looking away from me to type, fingers softly pressing down the keys on his keyboard. I couldn't look away from him. I didn't know the next time I would see him or if I would let myself see him or if he would even want to see me again. He probably only let me into his office and spoke to me because I was interested in buying this painting.

I pulled my card out of my bag and held it out to Harry. He looked at the card and I bit my bottom lip. I placed it on the table and slid it towards him.

"Rather than a card payment, you could make a transfer. That would be the easiest and safest option." Harry said before sliding my card back towards me. I blinked at the card and almost slapped my forehead when I realized it was a sleek black card with no number on it.

I took my phone out of my pocket and immediately made a transfer for the amount of money. The office fell quiet and I . . . I looked at Harry again. He was right there. I slyly raised my phone up, making sure not to be obvious as I sneakily took a picture of him while he was typing away on his computer. Just one for me.

I licked my lips, prepared to say something but I did not know what. What could I say that would not make this awkward?

"We are almost done here, you can ask your boyfriend to join us in here if you want." Harry said non-nonchalantly as he continued typing. I wondered what exactly he was typing before his words actually sunk in. What the fuck did he mean boyfriend? Me and Kenneth? Was he serious?

"He is not my boyfriend." I said, holding back a snort. Harry looked away from his computer and raised a brow at him. That was the second reaction I had gotten from him since we met again. "He's my blind date."