Delivery

37. Explanation

Three days. It had been three fucking days since she walked out on him.

Not wanting to cross an unspoken boundary, Harry waited until the first evening before calling. It went to voicemail; twice. After that, she declined his calls. Texting seemed childish, but when she wouldn't answer, he sent messages, eventually blowing up her phone with apologies and imploring her to talk to him.

He wore his regret like a hair shirt. Nothing felt right; he was constantly uncomfortable and lonely. Harry generally enjoyed his own company, but he was a social creature who frequently sought the companionship of others. Madelyn's absence had taken the color from his days, and not even the company of Murphy and Becca had been able to cheer him.

He poured himself into the final set-up at Next. Murphy's idea to have Noah working with Harry had been golden. The guy was nothing short of amazing! Noah was incredibly strong, with a work ethic that matched his ability to problem solve. He had been in the background when Kate turned up like a bad penny. Later, as Madelyn stormed out of the restaurant, Harry following in her wake, it hadn't taken him a second to put two and two together.

Patrick was hanging out with Noah that same day, as he unpacked tables and chairs. When he asked what Noah thought had gotten the professor all fired up, Noah quickly shot him a silencing glare. Murphy, Becca, and Harry had collectively treated Noah well and he didn't want to jeopardize their goodwill by speaking out of turn. Later that night, when Patrick pushed again, he included Katelyn in his line of questions.

"Why so curious? Not like any of Harry's drama affects you."

"That girl is trouble, No."

"Yeah, pretty sure I caught that memo. She isn't the type to take disappointment with what you'd call 'grace.'" Noah's chest rumbled with humor as he recalled the look on Katelyn's face when he glimpsed her stomping down Harry's back staircase at Etta's recently.

Patrick inclined on his arm and held the other man's eyes. "All I'm saying is, if your friend is involved with her, do him a favor and warn him. Her brother used to boost cars and I've heard she wasn't one to turn down any of the goodies he lifted. Downright proud of it when we were back in high school. Never hesitated to take what she wanted, that one. She was a bitch, through and through."

"Jesus, this is a small, fucking town," Noah grumbled as he got out of bed.

He rolled his shoulders to release the tension, bulky muscles rippling under his smooth, chestnut skin. He had never been interested in other people's personal business. Harry was a good guy to work for; maybe he was even a friend. Noah wasn't going to fuck things up with gossip about a girl the man had already sent packing.

Perhaps surprisingly, Katelyn was the least of Harry's concerns as he stood in the corridors of the business building on campus. The window above the wooden door was dark. He couldn't take any more radio silence and as his third day in exile began to diminish, Harry had come to confront Madelyn. Slamming his palm against her unanswered her office door, he cursed. It had been established that the woman heightened his emotions; she also brought out his temper.

"May I help you, Mr. Styles?" a somewhat annoyed voice with a nasal quality inquired pointedly.

Harry looked to his left to see a much older woman standing outside of another office door. Shit.

"I apologize Dr. Schmidt. I was looking for Ma... Professor Conroy. Any chance you've seen her?"

The soft, grey hair and somewhat maternal dress were countered by steeled posture and clear eyes that were sharp enough to pierce the flesh of an adversary possessing a lesser intellect.