model call || h.s

59.

Eight Months Later — Thursday, January 3rd 2019 — Nora

"And you're...how old?" I questionably ask the young looking 'twenty-five' year old, as she smiles and looks at Harry.

"Well, twenty-four, going to be twenty-five next year."

"I only ask because you look like your thirteen."

"Nora..." Harry whispers scoldingly, though I can hear his amusement.

"Do you do background checks?" Stupid idiot, I think.

"Extensive." I clip.

"Okay, so technically, I'm nineteen, I'll be twenty next year. I used my sister's social security number to sign up for the website." I couldn't help but laugh, which made her laugh. That was funny. "I swear, I'm super responsible and I really love children, and I can totally help you guys out! With, like, whatever you need." Yeah fucking right.

"Thank you for your time," I look back down at her resume, "Riley. We'll be deciding within the next few days." She jumps up, looking like she just performed excellently. She looks to Harry first and grabs his hand.

"It was so nice meeting you...sir. I'm looking forward to hearing back. Ms. Dodson, thanks so much!" She chooses not to shake my hand, but I walk her to the door. I lean against it and sigh once it's closed and locked.

"Fucking delusional! Did you...can you believe her?" Harry chuckles and pulls me into him.

"She was just overexcited."

"Yeah, to be meeting you. And come on, admitting to identity theft! Is she fucking nuts?"

"Yeah, she was a bit...a bit sad, that one." He kisses me, "How many do we have left?"

"Four."

"Shall we take a shot then?"

"Yeah, if you take a shot of the double-barreled bourbon instead of fucking Maker's Mark like a little bitch." He covers his face as he laughs.

"You are in rare form today, missy." Harry pours them for us and we clink the glasses before downing them. He winces, but mine slides down smoothly like the pro that I am.

"I don't want a young girl, Har. I don't trust them, not with you."

"You think I can't handle myself?"

"I know you can handle yourself, but you're also the kindest fucking boy I've ever met. You don't have the heart to be rude to someone."

"Um, are you forgetting the bloke who said that very rude and inappropriate thing to you?"

"Harry, you flipped him off. No offense, honey, but that is so not offensive, not to New Yorkers, at least." He sighs, "Do you know how many people I flip off throughout my day?" He shakes his head, "Take a guess."

"Dunno, ten, fifteen maybe?"

"Try quadrupling that. Definitely in the sixties range. Someone might simply step out in front of me and they get the bird. And not to mention, the amount of times I get flipped off a day. An absurd amount."

"You are very mean sometimes, yeah, I could see why that happens."

"Mhm...but the thing that sucks is, I love who you are, so that lack of a mean streak—god bless your soul—really does tug on my cold, dead heartstrings."

"Thank you, Nora, I appreciate that." Oh, how I love that smirk.

"But it's not going to stop a conniving little brat from making a move on you, so call it jealously, call it what you will. I don't wanna risk it. Besides, I don't need some young girl to be my friend. I want someone with experience and maybe even a little culture."