salvia. [h.s. AU]

Chapter Ten

Maria Eduarda

What the fuck did I had in mind when I accepted Mrs. Styles request?

Cooking for 40 people - probably 40 rich people who are used to eat on high end restaurants - at a fucking birthday party? Am I freaking insane?

And to top all that, it's on the same day as Marcos's birthday. Meaning I won't even be around to celebrate with my brother... And honestly, keep an eye on him. The fact he is turning 18 is amazing and scary at the same time, he's already reckless as it is. But Jesus, I didn't even think of that when Mrs. Styles asked me to go there and cook, like professionally cooking for a bunch of people I don't know.

I mean, I was going to deny it. I really was, the no was getting to the tip of my tongue, but got completely lost in it's way out of my mouth when that bitch Chloe acted all patronizing about it. I still don't know what took over me at that moment, but I simply had to take that smug look out of her face. I'm usually a very laid off person, it's hard to make me mad - or, at least, mad enough so I could do something about it - I think having Marcos as a younger brother has taught me patience along the years, but in that moment I completely forgot about it. I don't know if it was because of Harry's face when Chloe said I should not do it, but I felt it deep in my core that I didn't want him to see me like a punching bag that people can just drag around and talk shit.

I've seen his expression when we talked about Landon earlier in that day. Although Harry is  excellent at hiding emotions and maintaining a neutral face almost all the time, I saw the flicker of annoyance behind his green eyes when I told him about not knowing Landon's parents. I noticed the doubt when he saw the purple bruises on my arm and I lied about them. I might not say much, cause I hate to cause discomfort, but I see a lot. I notice things. It's both a gift and a curse, to be honest.

And I'm well aware that lying about those bruises makes it look like it's way worse than it actually is, but is not like I could tell my boss the round purples marks on my arms are there because my boyfriend and I had rough sex during the weekend. It's not the least appropriate. He probably thinks I suffer some kind of domestic violence, though, which is not great either, but at least not as intimate as him knowing the truth, right?

Anyway, I spent the whole week nearly having a mental breakdown every time I even thought about cooking for Harry's birthday, which was all the time, to be honest. Mrs. Styles asked me to make a few suggestions about what I think it could be served, according to her the party doesn't have any kind of theme, it's just a get together of Harry's friends and family. I won't lie, after I got slightly used to the idea - not comfortable, just used to it - it was actually kinda fun to bring different recipes and suggestions for Mrs. Styles to approve them.

She is actually a very nice lady. I didn't have the greatest of first impressions when I first met her, I guess because of how nervous I was about being interviewed. But now that most part of my nerves were gone, I realised she is lovely, kind and passionate - she is absolutely crazy about her grandson, her eyes gets brighter every time she mentions him or the upcoming party, which I think is so sweet, a kind of fraternal love I only experienced when my parents were still alive.