who's the boss

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It took three nights in the office till two a.m., stress eating an entire cheesecake and an hour in the loos sobbing into my hands, but I finally had something worthy to present to Harry Styles' assistant. I prided myself on my self belief when it came to my work but there was something about pulling together ideas for Harry Styles, even through his assistant, that had me doubting every choice I made. I questioned everything, changed my mind a hundred times, and then finally came full circle and settled on my original choice.

Indecisiveness was something I'd newly discovered and I couldn't say I was enjoying it one bit.

At 10:59 I left my office and walked to the reception area to meet Rachel Franklin, Harry's assistant and the woman I'd be taking the meeting with to go over the plans I'd made for the bathroom remodel. Most people I had meetings with turned up five minutes early or five minutes late depending on who they were, but I had a feeling that Harry Styles valued punctuality and that his assistant would be walking out of the lift right on 11.

I was unsurprised when an impeccably groomed and well dressed woman, tall and lean with eyes that drew you in instantly, exited the lift. She was everything that I'd pictured her to be and probably a little bit more. She carried herself with confidence but in a soft way that didn't leave you feeling inferior.

"Ms Franklin, I'm Sasha Ginsberg."

She studied me for a moment and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. A broad, genuine smile broke out on her face and I relaxed immediately. "Lovely to meet you, Mr Styles spoke very highly of you."

I tried to hide my surprise and either I succeeded, or his assistant was too polite to point it out. "If you'll follow me through to my office, we can get started. I'll try not to keep you long, I know you probably have a thousand other things to do today."

"We can take as long as we need," she insisted as we headed toward my office. "Mr Styles left for Munich this morning and won't return until tomorrow."

Once we were seated on opposite sides of my desk, I pulled out the portfolio I had put together. "I think the key to this bathroom, is under tile heating. Even though we are going for a raw, industrial feel, it's important that the room has a warm edge. I love these large Concrete Fuse tiles in a slate grey for the wall, and then a lighter grey for the floor."

Rachel poured over the images I'd collected and drawings I'd done, asking (what I considered to be) the right questions and gushing over the details I'd agonised over. She agreed with everything but she was apprehensive about a shower without doors. The vision I had for the bathroom included an exposed metal pipe running along the length of the room, with a shower head in the middle. Aesthetically, a single wall of glass worked the best. The shower could be entered from from sides which Rachel agreed was a bonus, but her concern was containing the water.

"The floor would be dipped towards the drain in the centre, so it would flow down. And the screen would be wide enough to stop any regular showering splatter."

"Alright, if you're sure," Rachel said. "And the recess? Would it be centred?"

"Yes. Because it's one long rectangular room, I'm running on keeping everything centered long ways. The towel rack will be at the short end with the door and the bath will sit at the other short end. I want balance and symmetry for this room, it works best for the shape."

"I agree. I think all your ideas are exactly what Harry was after." She went red. "Sorry, Mr Styles. It isn't too busy and the exposed pipe is brilliant. It will set his bathroom apart and even though others won't see it, it will satisfy him to know this."

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