Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 9

The first thing I heard this morning as I entered the foyer to Eleanor & Harry's penthouse was the sound of deep, throaty laughter. The sounds bounced off the walls and floors, making the already airy, bright living quarters look and feel bigger and happier than usual.

I hung up my coat on the coat rack and meandered my way deeper into the foyer, my ballet flats clicking lightly against the marble floor. I was trying to tell, based on the sounds where they were, but wasn't quite sure. Should I go find them? Or should I make my presence known? I had never been told to meet them at the house, so I was still a little uncertain.

As I paced, the laughs hushed, followed by a loud girly giggle that could have only been Eleanor.

"Livvy, is that you?" Harry's voice boomed, surprisingly. I opened my mouth to respond, but he kept talking playfully before I could. "If not, and you're a shitty ass burgler, I'm letting you know now that I'm a big burly dude about 6'3 and 280lbs, and I'll so kick your ass into next week if you don't turn and run away now."

"Harold!" More girly giggles were heard in the distance. "Don't curse."

I couldn't help but laugh in response to their good moods. I followed the voices around the staircase and the long hallway into the kitchen. When I stepped into the open room, the sun was shining so bright that it was almost blinding.

Harry was perched on a dainty and uncomfortable looking barstool, his lanky body folded neatly over a cereal bowl at the bar. The sleeves of his black button down were rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was a bit of a mess, but he looked perky and happy. Eleanor's hand was on his shoulder, her dark charcoal A-line dress a stark contrast to the brightness in the room.

"Good morning, Olivia," Eleanor smiled cordially.

"Morning, Livvy!" Harry chimed jovially, watching me as I moved to stand across the island from where they were situated.

Both of them seem to be in obnoxiously good moods today. It's strange. They've never had this kind of chemistry or banter before. I wonder what brought it on?

Harry took a pause from his cereal to lean in and whisper something in her ear that was indecipherable from where I was standing. Biting my lip in confusion, I watched as Eleanor slapped his shoulder before giggling.

Wait -- did she just giggle? I know she had been laughing, but this was a strange occurrence to actually witness. Eleanor wasn't exactly the "giggle" type.

"You. Stop," she smirks, looking at him curiously before grabbing her purse and slinging it over her arm. "Okay, I have to get going. I'm going to be late for work, and you..." she smiles, using her index finger to poke his chest tauntingly before continuing, "are going to miss your fitting if you don't hurry. Please don't."

Harry went to playfully bite at her finger, his eyebrows wiggling sensually at her with a growl, but it slowly turned into a whine as she mentions the fitting.

"Harold, you've been putting off the fitting for weeks..." she groaned.

He shrugged in response, swirling his spoon around the cereal absent-mindedly. "I know," he clears his throat. "I just hate fittings."

Eleanor rolls her eyes, giving me a look like 'can you believe this baby...' as she slides some papers that were laying on the bar into her purse, organizing her things quickly while multi-tasking. "Honey, don't be ridiculous. They're fine."