Chapter Text
There was still a little over an hour to kill before his flight. Harry did a quick glance around the terminal to see if there were any decent restaurants in the immediate vicinity to grab a late breakfast—things didn’t look too promising—before turning his attention back to the conveyor belt in front of him. He grabbed his bucket of belongings and moved off to the side out of the way of other travellers to slip his shoes back on and slide his belt through the loops of his trousers.
Gathering his rings, he slid each one onto the appropriate fingers, trying not to notice how empty the fourth finger on his left hand looked. It was something he’d gotten used to over the last ten years, it’d be a little ridiculous if he hadn’t, but sometimes it still caught him a little off guard. The tan line that was once there had long ago faded, all blending together to form the creamy white colour of his skin. The overall tan of his entire body had also long ago faded, a mixture of living in London—a usually very overcast city—and rarely leaving the comfort of his office. Maybe that’s something he could work on while on this holiday; a tan. He was staying at the beach after all.
Harry finished collecting all of his things and returned the bucket to the security agent standing at the end of the security line. She took it from him wordlessly and without even a little glimpse of a smile and Harry tried not to huff in annoyance. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to work in an airport, especially in security, he was sure it was beyond stressful. But then again, who didn’t work a stressful job? Harry was in a constant state of stress at his own, but at least he knew when to offer up a smile when he needed to.
Lifting the handle on his suitcase, Harry wheeled it alongside him, the wheels click-clacking against the tile as he followed the signs toward his gate. There wasn’t much in the way of food anywhere, the only semi-reasonable thing Harry could find was a Starbucks. Good thing he wasn’t incredibly hungry, just needed a little something to tide him over until he landed in France and could go to a nice restaurant for dinner.
He wandered past Starbucks for now in search of his gate. When he finally found it, he wasn’t surprised to see that it was still fairly empty, seeing as how there was still an hour left until boarding. Well, if everything went to plan and there were no delays. An older woman was sitting in the row of chairs against the window, a book lying open across her lap, and two people seated together who Harry assumed were a couple. The man was scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other arm was wrapped around the waist of the woman sitting next to him while she dozed on his shoulder. There was a ring on her left hand but Harry couldn’t find one on the man’s hand; newly engaged, perhaps. Harry still remembered that feeling all too well.
Turning around, Harry headed back to Starbucks. There was a queue, of course, when was there ever not a queue at Starbucks. It wasn’t too terribly long though and it seemed to be moving fairly quickly, so Harry took his place at the end of it. He slipped his cellphone out of the front pocket of his suitcase while he waited. There weren’t any new messages, not like he was really expecting to have any, but he thought Denise would have checked in with him by now. He shrugged and slipped his phone back into the pocket, he’d text her once he was on the plane.
When it was finally his turn, Harry approached the counter, the employee working behind it greeting him with a smile. He returned the smile and ordered a large vanilla latte with an extra shot, one tomato and mozzarella sandwich, and a cake pop because why the hell not, he’s on holiday. After paying, he gave the employee his name for the order and moved off to the side to wait.
Once his order was finished, he took it from the employee with a thank you and returned to his gate. There were a few more people there this time around, and Harry took one of the empty seats, spreading his legs and placing his suitcase in between them to use as a makeshift table. He answered a few emails while he ate; they were supposed to be getting their shipment of seafood delivered at the restaurant today and he wanted to make sure everything was all set to go for that.
Before Harry even knew it, there was a voice coming over the intercom. “British Airways flight 350 with direct access to Nice will begin boarding in five minutes. If you’d please make your way to gate A16 at this time.”
That was him. He wasn’t staying in Nice, but the city he was staying in was so small it didn't have an airport of its own, so Nice was the closest option. Harry stood up and walked to the nearest trash bin, throwing away the wrapping from his sandwich. He still had about half of his latte left as well as the cake pop that he’d saved for the flight. He took his place at the end of the queue that was already forming at the gate and pulled up his boarding pass on his phone.
Once the door opened, things were moving smoothly and it was no time at all before it was Harry’s turn. He held his phone over the scanner and watched as the light turned green.
“Thank you, Mr Styles,” the airport employee said with a smile after his boarding pass had scanned successfully. “Have a great flight.”
“Thank you,” he replied, nodding, before making his way down the jetbridge.
Just as he stepped up to the door of the plane, Harry placed his hand flat against the cold steel of the plane. It was a small superstition of his, something he had always done ever since he was young. He didn’t fly too often and it had definitely been more than a few years since he last took a flight, but he couldn't ever board a plane without touching the outside of it first.
Two stewardesses were standing just inside the plane who greeted Harry as he passed. He returned the greeting but was far less enthusiastic about it than they were. He had a window seat and luckily there wasn’t anyone in his row yet and he didn’t have to make anyone stand up out of their seat so he could get through. He slid his suitcase into the overhead compartment with ease and then shuffled over the two seats in his row before plopping down into his own by the window.
He took out his phone and pulled up the group chat he had with his daughters and sent off a text letting them know he was on the plane. They had both dropped him off at the airport earlier in the day and, in Harry’s opinion, were far too excited to see him off. He sent Liam a text as well telling him the same.
Harry had downloaded a new audiobook yesterday just for this flight and he pulled that up after closing out of his texts. He placed an AirPod into each ear and pressed play on his book, resting his head against the headrest and letting his eyes drift closed.
—
Before he even made it to the halfway mark of his audiobook, the captain came over the intercom letting the passengers know they’d made it to their destination and would be landing in just under five minutes. He went over the current time and the weather; a nice twenty-three degrees which sounded amazing to Harry. It was just over the side of too chilly for him back in London.
Harry paused his book and placed his AirPods back into their case, shoving them into his pocket. He apologized to the woman sitting next to him when he accidentally elbowed her as he did so. She gave him a warm smile in return and told him it was alright, no harm done. He waited patiently in his seat while the other passengers collected their belongings and hurried off the plane. He never saw the point in rushing off the plane the second they landed and he always allowed most of the other people off before he got off himself.
Once it was clear of most of the passengers, just a few stragglers left, Harry rose out of his seat and shuffled along the other two seats to his right and into the aisle. His bag was the only one left in the overhead bin and he pulled it down, deciding against rolling it down the aisle and instead slung the side strap over his shoulder, using his left hand to keep it held behind his back.
The flight attendant standing at the door to the plane wished him a good day as he embarked, he smiled and nodded back wishing them the same. He walked down the jetway making it into the terminal which was already bustling with people now that it was almost midday. The gate he stepped into was packed with people, almost every seat occupied, as they waited to board the plane Harry had just gotten off of to take them to wherever in the world they were headed.
Harry stepped off to the side of the gate and leaned his back against a pillar, taking the strap of his bag off his shoulder and dropping it to the ground, placing it in between his feet. He slid his phone out from his pocket and took it off airplane mode and it instantly buzzed with new text messages. He opened the group chat with his daughters first, seeing that Jenny had sent two texts. The first one told him to be safe and have fun and then the next was a request for him to send her pictures of the beach followed by the sun and ocean wave emojis, but there was still nothing from Denise which made him frown. Harry knew she was at work and she hardly had time to glance at her phone let alone actually send a text, but the whole reason he was in France right now was her idea and she knew his flight schedule, knew he would have landed by now. But he ignored it as he sent off a reply to Jenny, assuming Denise would get back to him once she was on her lunch break.
When his eldest daughter had invited him over for dinner a week ago, Harry was excited. It usually went the other way, with him having his daughters over to his place instead so it was nice to have a change of scenery. But once he showed up and dinner was already made and set out on the table with both of his daughters sitting there waiting for him, he knew something was up.
He didn’t even give them a chance to exchange pleasantries and went straight in with the questions, asking them what was going on. His mind was whirling with every possibility and the first thing he had settled on was that one of them was pregnant. He knew Denise was in a relationship, although it was fairly new, it wasn’t impossible and Jenny had been single for quite a while but also not impossible. When he sprung that question on them they both went wide-eyed before dissolving into laughter, letting him know that definitely wasn’t the case. He couldn’t say he wasn’t a tad disappointed at that, he’d be elated to be a grandfather and he definitely could not wait for that day to actually come. Having that thought out of the way instantly made his mind jump to the worst; what if one of them was sick.
The girls finally explained to him why they had invited him over when Denise slid out what looked like a brochure from underneath her placemat. A week-long trip to the coast of France was the absolute last thing he had expected. He was touched that his daughters cared so much about him that they wanted him to get away from his job and relax, but the fact that they had to do all of it behind his back and pay for everything in advance so he had no choice but to go wasn’t exactly thrilling.
A screaming child in the restaurant across from him pulled Harry out of his memory and he turned his attention back to his cell phone and he pulled up his and Liam’s text thread. Liam had replied to Harry’s earlier text with a selfie of himself sitting in Harry’s office with a wide cheesy grin on his face.
Harry chuckled to himself as he thumbed out a reply. If there is one single thing out of place when I come back you’re fired.
It didn’t take long for Liam to reply and it was with another picture, but this time it was of Harry’s desk with papers strewn across the surface, definitely not how Harry had left it last night. He knew Liam was just as much of an organized neat freak as Harry was, especially when it came to their work, so he was sure Liam had tidied the desk up and put everything back in its place as soon as he had sent the picture. Harry had sent off a single middle finger emoji in reply.
Effectively replying to all his text messages and even answering a quick work email, Harry placed his phone back into his pocket and followed the signs for the airport exit. Right when he stepped out of the automatic doors onto the pavement outside he was hit with a gentle cool breeze that he happily welcomed.
Luckily, there seemed to be several taxis waiting at the kerb so Harry didn’t have to order an Uber. He approached the taxi that was the closest to him where a tall dark-skinned man, who Harry assumed was the driver, was leaning against the side of the taxi.
“Excuse me,” Harry called out as he neared the car. “Are you available?”
“Yes sir, of course,” the driver said, instantly slipping into professional mode. “Here, let me take your bag.” Harry handed him his suitcase and watched as the driver placed it into the boot of the car before Harry slid into the backseat. The leather of the seats was a bit worn but comfortable, definitely more comfortable than the seats on the airplane, and he settled in easily.
“So where are we headed?” the driver asked as he sat down behind the steering wheel adjusting his rearview mirror.
Harry took his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the booking confirmation email from the resort that Denise had forwarded him to show to the driver. He knew a little French but his pronunciation wasn’t the best and he didn't feel confident enough to pronounce the name of the resort without butchering it.
The driver hummed in acknowledgement as his eyes scanned over the screen of Harry’s phone. “That’s about a forty-five minute drive from here, is that okay?”
Harry nodded as he locked his phone and stuck it in between his thighs. He already knew that information before even leaving, having googled the resort and the airport right after Denise had sprung this surprise trip on him. “Of course.”
The driver reached up and pressed the button to start the meter before indicating and pulling out into the flowing traffic of the airport.
The drive was fairly easy, once they made their way through the heavy traffic of the city—especially in the immediate area around the airport—everything flowed seamlessly. The driver asked Harry a few questions; had he ever been to France before, yes, but only to Paris a few times when he was younger, he’d never been to this part of the country, why he was here, his daughters surprised him with the trip, how long he was staying, just a week, simple questions like that until the conversation died down and the driver switched on the radio.
It was a song completely in French that Harry didn’t recognize, not like there would have been a chance he would recognize it since he didn’t know a single song that was fully in French, but the lovely sound of the woman’s voice that was singing it was soothing and Harry felt himself relax even further into the worn leather of the backseat.
He kept his gaze locked out of the window for the majority of the journey, watching the buildings and the trees pass by in a blur as they rushed by. Once they made it out of Nice and into the smaller countryside, everything was much quieter, more peaceful.
Turning onto the gravel road that led to the resort, Harry sat up straighter in his seat, the trip didn’t feel like it took the forty-five minutes the diver said it would, but glancing up at the digital clock on the dashboard it confirmed it took closer to an hour than forty-five minutes.
“Here we are, sir,” the driver said and he pulled the taxi into the curved drive in front of the doors leading into the lobby. There was only one other car that was parked in front of them and it looked to be a couple who were leaving, packing their bags into the back of the van.
The slamming of a car door startled Harry and he turned to see the driver walking around the car toward the back and opening the boot. Harry jumped out of the back, shutting the door behind him, and walked around back just in time for the driver to hand him his bag. He thanked him and pulled his wallet out from the front pocket of his bag to pay the driver. He took out a few notes which he knew were more than enough to pay for the fare and handed them over to the driver who nodded his thanks and wished Harry a good trip.
Harry waved goodbye to him after thanking the driver again and turned to face the large building of the resort. The large white brick building towered over him, the colourful flowers planted on both sides of the entrance swaying in the breeze. The photographs online made this place seem very swanky, and now standing in front of it, he could tell this was definitely a high-end resort and he still didn’t understand how his girls were able to pay for it.
The man working behind the reception desk lifted his head as soon as Harry entered the lobby and greeted him with a wide smile. "Bienvenue! Comment puis-je vous aider?"
Harry paused in his tracks, trying to translate what had just been said to him. He recognized the first word as welcome, but the rest of it was taking him a little longer to decipher. The confusion he was feeling must have been evident on his face because the man frowned at him before quickly recovering and smiling again, saying in a very heavily accented English, “welcome, how may I help you? Are you checking in?”
“Yes,” Harry smiled, relaxing now that he knew there wasn’t going to be a very large language barrier to overcome. He took a few more steps until he was directly in front of the reception desk and placed his elbow on the cold marble counter. “I should have a reservation for Harry Styles.” He took out his phone and thankfully the confirmation email was still on his screen just in case it was needed.
“Okay Monsieur Styles, give me just a moment while I look up your information,” the man said as he typed away at a computer just off to his left. “Ah yes, it looks like we have you booked in one of our cottages for three weeks.”
Harry dropped the resort pen he had been fiddling with while he waited and it clattered to the ground by his feet as his heart kicked up speed in his chest. “Three weeks? No, no. There must be some kind of mistake, I should only be booked for one week.” There was no possible way he could stay here for three weeks, one was already pushing it.
The man frowned as he looked back at his computer. “No, it says three weeks.” He spun the computer screen around so Harry could see and pointed to where the dates of his check-in and check-out were, and sure enough, that was three weeks.
“Is there any way you could change it?” Harry pleaded. He could feel the thrum of his pulse quicken beneath the skin of his neck and he took a deep breath to try and stay calm. He didn’t want to get angry at this poor man who was only doing his job. “I can’t possibly stay for three weeks.”
The furrow between the man’s brows deepened as he typed something on his keyboard. “I’m sorry monsieur, the three weeks have already been paid in full.”
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was going to kill his daughters, funny how they never mentioned it was for three weeks when they told him about this trip. That was probably why Denise still hadn't gotten back to him, she knew he was going to be angry, and as soon as he finally did get to talk to her, she was going to find out just how angry he was.
He took a deep breath and smiled at the hotel employee. Harry didn’t want him to realize how angry he was because his anger was not directed at him. “Alright, since it’s already paid for I guess I’ll take it.”
“Parfaite,” the man said, smiling wide and clicking away at the keyboard again. Harry watched as he opened a drawer underneath the computer and took out a light blue keycard, sliding it through a slot on the side of the computer. He then placed the keycard in a small paper envelope and laid it on the countertop in front of Harry. He picked up a map of the resort, unfolded it, and placed it next to the keycard. “Okay, you’ll be staying in cottage number six, which is located right here,” he used a pen to circle the exact cottage on the map, “and if you go out of the door at the end of the hallway to your left and follow the path it’ll take you right to it, you can’t miss it.”
“You have full access to the beach directly from your cottage. That strip of beach is owned by the resort and only the guests staying in the cottages have access to it, so it’s rarely crowded and very beautiful,” the man explained. “You have a fully functioning kitchen in your cottage which you are more than welcome to stock as you wish, but we do serve breakfast and dinner here in the dining room every day. Breakfast is from six to ten am and dinner is from five to ten pm. The price is included in your package so it’s at no extra cost to you. The pool and the spa are located on the sixth floor which you also have full access to as well, just use your keycard to swipe in. Any other questions or concerns?”
Harry shook his head, brain already full of all the information just given to him. “No, I don’t think so. Thank you for your help.” Harry took the map and followed the creases to fold it up and placed it into the envelope alongside his keycard.
“Of course, I hope you enjoy your stay,” the man replied, smiling. “If you ever have any questions there is always someone working the front desk twenty-four hours a day, so don’t be afraid to call or drop by.”
Harry nodded, lifting the handle of his suitcase. “I will, thank you. And your English is excellent.”
The man smiled bashfully. “Merci beaucoup.”
With that, Harry was off, rolling his suitcase behind him, heading down the hallway towards the door that he was instructed to go through that led to the cottages. The pathway was gravel and his suitcase wasn’t wanting to roll smoothly so Harry slid the handle down and used the strap on the side to place it over his shoulder. His bag bumped against his hip as he walked, the gravel crunching underneath his trainers, and the sun shining brightly. He didn’t want to search through his suitcase to try and locate his sunglasses so he squinted against the sun, using his hand to shield it from his eyes.
After only a couple of minutes of walking, Harry made it to the road where the cottages were located. There were only eleven of them total, five on each side of the road opposite of each other and one at the very end. He followed along the pathway until he made it to number six. At least the path leading up to the door was paved; diamond-shaped terracotta stone. Very cute.
Harry slid his keycard into the lock, the door unlocking with a click and the light flashing green. He pushed open the door and stepped inside, dropping his bag at his feet right inside the doorway. The entryway was very open, a full-length mirror hanging on the wall right inside the door made it seem even bigger than it was. The stairs to the second level were diagonal from him to the right, and a closed door was directly to his right which Harry assumed was a small washroom if he was remembering the floorplan from online correctly.
Down two steps straight off the entryway was a large living room and a kitchen, the back wall of the living room was a wall of floor to ceiling windows, the beach just a few meters past that. Harry could practically hear the waves crashing against the sand. He closed his eyes, straining to listen out and he actually could hear them; that was going to be lovely as a soundtrack to fall asleep to every night.
He caught his reflection in the mirror on the wall in the entryway and he turned to face it fully. He looked a little haggard, worse for wear, but flights tended to do that to him no matter the length. He wasn’t all that tired from the flight, which he was thankful for since it was still the afternoon, and he knew he wouldn’t be feeling major jet lag since France was only an hour ahead of London, but he could always snooze on the beach later if he needed it.
Harry was startled by the sound of what seemed like a keycard trying to fit into the lock at his front door quickly followed by a muffled curse. He frowned as he turned toward the door and swung it open. Standing there was a man who looked to be around Harry’s age, grey hair at his temples and dusted throughout his dark coloured hair, a wrinkle in his brow from confusion. He blinked up at Harry, the wrinkle only getting deeper.
“Can I help you?” Harry asked, but the wrinkle in the man’s brown didn’t smooth out. Oh, they were in France so maybe he didn’t speak English. He wracked his brain, trying to remember anything from that one French class he took in school. “Parlez-vous Anglais?” Still nothing. Okay, they were in a resort so this man could speak literally any language in the world, and with Harry’s luck, it was probably one he didn’t even know a single word in.
Just as he was trying to think of another language, maybe Italian since they were so close to Italy, a woman came around the corner, her flip-flops slapping against the pathway leading up to Harry’s cottage. “Lou, we’re over—oh,” She stopped when she noticed Harry in the doorway and she arched one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows at him. Then she turned her attention to the man who Harry now guessed was Lou, a smirk spreading across her lips before she said, “We’re in cottage number eight, this is six.”
“Oh shit, sorry mate,” he said to Harry, the wrinkle between his eyebrows finally disappearing. So he did speak English. And not just English, he was also British. “I was wondering why you were in my house.”
“Sorry, apparently my brother,” the woman looked at Harry pointedly while she exaggerated the word like she wanted to make sure he knew they were siblings. Which, okay, confusing but good to know he guessed. “Never learned how to read numbers, sorry to bother you, neighbour.”
“It’s not a bother at all,” Harry said to Lou’s back as he walked back down the path to join his sister.
Harry closed the front door once they had both rounded the corner and were out of sight. Well, that was odd. He shook his head as he reached down to pick up his bag from where he had dropped it inside of the doorway and headed up the stairs. The second level was fairly simple; just a long hallway with a bedroom with an attached balcony on one side and a bathroom on the other.
He sighed as he entered the bedroom, placing his bag on top of the bed. The curtains were drawn back to effectively allow the sunlight to light up the room. The walls were painted a very pale shade of blue, perfectly matching the floral print on the duvet. The whole room felt very calm and relaxing and Harry felt some of the tension in his shoulders release.
Glancing over to the small chest of drawers that sat opposite the foot of the bed, Harry decided he might as well unpack everything into the drawers since he was staying here a lot longer than he thought. He didn’t even pack enough clothing for three weeks. If he would have known ahead of time he could have packed accordingly, but then again, there was no way in hell he would have agreed to come for three weeks. So even though at this moment he was pretty furious with his daughters for going behind his back like that, a part of him had to admit it was pretty smart.
If he remembered correctly from the photographs online, there should be a small laundry room off the side of the kitchen downstairs. He initially thought that wouldn’t be getting any use from him during his stay, but now he was glad for it. He wouldn’t have to pay to use the laundromat in the main building. He just hoped there was some laundry detergent or soap he could use, otherwise he’d have to find a shop somewhere nearby to purchase some.
After unpacking all of his things, which only filled the top drawer of the wardrobe, he grabbed his bag of toiletries and headed across the hall to the bathroom for a shower. The bathroom was quite large, with enough space for a free-standing claw foot bathtub, a shower, a vanity with two sinks, and of course a toilet.
Harry longingly eyed the bathtub for a moment before eventually deciding on a shower. As much as he loved a nice, hot bubble bath, he was more interested in quickly rinsing off the funk of the airplane right now. The bathmat was hanging over the glass wall of the shower and Harry took it down and placed it neatly in front of the door to the shower. He grabbed a folded towel from the shelf and hung it on the hook next to the shower door. He pulled open the door and reached inside, turning the tap on and setting it for what he hoped to be the water temperature he preferred. He wasn’t yet familiar with the water heater here.
Testing the temperature with his hand, Harry nodded his approval and grabbed his body wash and shampoo and conditioner from his toiletry bag and stepped into the shower. The rest of the built-up tension in Harry’s body left as he stood underneath the warm spray of the water. Maybe he could spend his time here actually relaxing and doing nothing, although, he wasn’t exactly sure how to do nothing, wasn’t sure he actually could. Just the thought of doing nothing terrified him a bit.
Once he was completely dried off after his shower, Harry wrapped a towel around his waist and headed across the hall for a change of clothes. He slipped into a clean pair of pants and pulled out a pair of shorts and a plain t-shirt from the drawer; something light since he planned on spending the rest of the afternoon sitting out on the beach. Before stepping into his clothes, he applied a healthy amount of sun cream, which was something he double and tripled checked he had packed before he left. Getting a tan would be nice, but he wasn’t particularly fond of burning to a crisp. After getting dressed, Harry grabbed his laptop, his phone, and a physical copy of the book he was reading on the plane from where he left them on the bed and went downstairs after dropping his towel off in the bathroom.
His memory served him right; the laundry room was right behind the kitchen. It was so small it could easily be missed if you didn’t already know it was there. Just big enough for a stacked washer and dryer and a few shelves next to it. Probably couldn’t even consider it a laundry room, more like a laundry closet. But there was no soap to be found, so Harry set a mental reminder to purchase some.
Wandering into the kitchen, Harry pulled open the fridge. Even though in the back of his mind he knew there wouldn’t be anything inside, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that it was, in fact, empty. Right, a supermarket was absolutely a top priority now and he was sure a quick google search would be able to help him out with that. If not, a call to the front desk most certainly would. But that could wait until after he laid out on the beach for an hour or so. Instead, Harry grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl that was left on the kitchen table as a welcome gift from the resort.
The wall of windows in the living room had a sliding glass door placed right in the middle of it which led out onto the back patio and the beach just beyond. Harry sat his laptop down on the kitchen island before sliding open the door and stepping outside. It was already much warmer than it was earlier now that it was later in the afternoon and the sun was higher in the sky, but the breeze coming off the ocean felt nice.
The back patio was fairly simple; a black wicker sofa with striped cushions off to the left and a small round table with four chairs that matched the sofa on the right. There was an umbrella in the center of the table that was currently down and tied up. Harry walked past the outdoor furniture and stepped off the paved patio directly onto the sand and sighed as his toes sunk into the warm sand. About halfway between the patio and the ocean were two lounge chairs with a small table sat in between them and Harry headed straight for them.
The beach was completely open, nothing separating his cottage from the ones on either side of it. A couple was laying out on the lounge chairs about four cottages down, but other than the two of them, and now Harry, the beach was empty. Very peaceful and relaxing and exactly what Harry needed after his stressful morning.
He sprawled out on one of the lounge chairs, opening up his book and skimming through to find the place where he left off in the audiobook version on the plane. It had been a very long time since he had the time to sit down and read a real physical book. That was the main reason why he switched to audiobooks, he could listen to them while he worked, but even that was a rarity. But before he could relax and start reading, he had a very important phone call to make first.
The phone rang a few times and Harry was starting to wonder if he was being ignored because he knew that she was currently on her lunch hour, she had it at the same time every day. Just when he thought the call was about to go to voicemail, the ringing stopped and the familiar voice of his eldest daughter filled his ear. “Hey dad, sorry I haven’t answered any of your texts, it’s been so crazy here today and I’ve only just sat down for lunch. Are you all checked in and settled?”
“I am,” he said, settling back into the chair. “This place is really nice, thank you for picking it for me.”
“Of course you deserve it.”
“I’m currently sitting on the beach about to continue reading the book I started on the plane and enjoy my three week holiday.” It was hard for him to be angry with his daughters, it always had been, especially since they rarely gave him a reason to be. Now that they were all adults, it was even harder, they spoke to each other as adults and not as parent and child, But right now, Harry was the parent, he was in control, and he could still discipline his children no matter their age and one of his children had overstepped and he needed her to know that, to know that he was angry. “Imagine my surprise when the man working the front desk told me I’d be staying for three weeks instead of the one I was originally told.”
“Dad—”
“No,” he interjected. “What the hell is this, Denise? I cannot stay here for three weeks and you know it. One was already pushing it.”
On the other line, Denise sighed. “See this is why we couldn’t tell you we booked you for three weeks because we knew you’d never agree to it.”
“Of bloody course I wouldn’t have agreed to it,” Harry shouted. “I have a job and responsibilities. What about Teakwood?”
“Liam is looking after it while you’re gone,” Denise said, which, yes, Harry already knew that, but he still couldn't be away from his restaurant for three fucking weeks. “Your baby is in good hands. You trust him right?”
“Of course. Explicitly.” Liam was more than just his assistant manager, his right-hand man, they’d been best friends since they were eighteen, since they first started working at the restaurant together. When Harry’s divorce was still fresh and he was hurting, Liam was the only one he could turn to. His girls were young and he had to be strong for them. Harry didn’t know where he would be now if it weren’t for Liam.
“Then your restaurant is fine. You need this dad and we knew you’d never do it yourself so we had to step in. You’ve been going nonstop since the divorce.”
“Please,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “The divorce was ten years ago.” Yeah, maybe he worked a little more than normal when it first happened because he didn’t want anyone to know just how much the divorce had affected him, but he didn’t work like that anymore.
“Exactly. You haven’t taken a break in ten years,” her tone of voice changed to something softer, almost like she was afraid to broach this subject with him. They didn’t talk about the divorce often, it was difficult for both him and the girls, but it’s gotten a little easier over the years. “I know Jenny was young when it happened and doesn’t remember much, but I remember. You threw yourself into your job to cope, to forget everything else and you haven’t stopped since. You need a break, dad.”
Harry sighed as he leaned back in his lounge chair. He squinted up at the sky, really wishing he hadn’t forgotten to bring his sunglasses outside with him. He was too comfortable now to go back inside to get them.
He supposed Denise did have a point, he knew he worked more than most people. Sixteen hour plus days, seven days a week probably wasn’t the most healthy of lifestyles, but it had been something that he had been doing for so long that he grew comfortable with it, accustomed to it, and he honestly didn’t know how to work any other way. Not that he was complaining, he loved his job and he worked his arse off to get to where he was now and he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world, and that was probably part of the reason why he put so much of himself into it. If the girls hadn’t forced this trip on him, he didn’t think he would have ever stopped. “This place is really expensive,” Harry said, changing the subject. He didn’t want to argue. “How did you even afford it?”
“Liam chipped in as well.”
“The bastard,” Harry gasped, sitting up straight in his chair. “He’s fired the second that I get back.”
Denise’s tinkling laugh could be heard through the phone. “We both know you’d never do that. But please enjoy this. Lay on the beach, go surfing, go to a winery, get fucking laid—” Harry squawked at both her language and the fact that she just casually mentioned him getting laid “— whatever it is people do while in France.” Well, surfing was definitely out of the question, he barely had the coordination to walk on land without falling, so standing on a surfboard while in the ocean was just a broken limb waiting to happen.
Harry promised to try and enjoy his time here as well as not constantly think about the restaurant. Or check in with Liam every second of every day which was what he was originally planning on doing. They chatted for a few more minutes until Denise’s break was over and she had to get back to work.
Opening up his book to where he stuck his thumb inside to mark his current page, Harry continued reading the next chapter. With every crash of the waves on the shore, Harry sank deeper and deeper into his lounge chair. It was like a medication he didn’t even know he needed and it didn’t take him long at all to be completely relaxed and boneless, his eyes glazing over as he read.
He had only made it about a chapter and a half before he started dozing off, but the crunching sound of footsteps in the sand stopped him from fully falling asleep. Harry reluctantly opened his eyes and saw the same man who tried to get into his cottage just a few hours ago approaching him with a smile on his face.
“Hey, neighbour,” he greeted with a wave. Harry thought he remembered his name being Lou, but he certainly didn’t remember him being quite so handsome before. He was shirtless, in a pair of blue swim trunks hanging low on his hips, and aviator sunglasses perched on his nose. Harry tried not to stare.
“Hello,” Harry said back, dog-earing the page he was currently on in his book so he could easily continue later.
“I wanted to apologize for earlier. I’m a right idiot and didn’t even check the house number before I tried to get in. I’m sorry if I startled you.” Harry watched as he plopped down into the other lounge chair and sprawled out, making himself at home. “I’m Louis by the way.”
So it was Louis then. Lou must just be a nickname. “No harm done,” Harry said, arching an eyebrow when he saw Louis close his eyes underneath his sunglasses as if he was about to take a nap. “And I’m Harry.”
Silence passed between the two of them for a few beats and Harry thought that was it, the end of their conversation, so he opened his book back up to his marked page to continue reading. He’d made it through quite a few pages and he started to believe that Louis had fallen asleep. He glanced over to check and he found that Louis was very much awake and watching him.
“Listen, this is probably going to sound strange,” Louis started and Harry’s stomach twisted. That was never a good way to start a conversation. “But would you like to have dinner with me and my sister tonight? As an official apology.”
“Oh, no,” Harry rushed to say. There was no need for that. It was kind but unnecessary. “You don’t even need to apologize. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Well, the offer still stands. We are both far too tired from travelling today to do any sort of food shop so we were just going to grab dinner at the restaurant in the resort,” Louis explained. “So if you’d like to join us we were planning on leaving around six-thirty and you can just meet us out front.”
And with that Louis was off. He waved over his shoulder as he headed back to his own cottage and then disappeared inside. Harry hadn’t had many interactions with him so far, but the two that he did have were quite odd. Dinner did sound appealing though.
He’d entirely forgotten about his need to find a supermarket and now that he was all settled in and starting to relax the last thing he wanted to do was go out in search of one. And since he was going to be here for a while, it would be nice to make some friends so he didn’t have to do everything by himself. Maybe having dinner with them wasn’t such a terrible idea. For now, though, Harry had a chapter to finish.
—
There were ten minutes until six-thirty and Harry was peering out of the front window of his cottage like a creep. He didn’t want to seem too eager and wait outside before his neighbours were ready, but he also didn’t want to keep them waiting.
He’d been ready for the past twenty minutes or so and now he was passing back and forth in front of the window because he was almost nervous about tonight. He wasn’t sure why, but he annoyingly felt the flutter of butterflies in his stomach. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spent time with anyone that wasn’t Liam or his daughters for what felt like years now. He was far too ashamed to even think about how long it had actually been. He didn’t even know anyone outside his circle of employees and that fact made his stomach drop. How fucking sad was that?
Glancing out of the window again, Harry finally saw Louis and his sister waiting outside on the pavement in between their two cottages. Louis glanced up towards the window and Harry quickly ducked back behind the curtain, not wanting Louis to notice him. He waited for a few beats before double-checking he had his phone and his keycard and opened the front door, smiling when Louis waved over to him when it fell shut behind him.
“Hey, I’m glad you decided to come,” Louis said with a smile when Harry reached them. And yes, Louis was very handsome, especially when he smiled. How Harry managed to overlook that the first time he saw Louis was beyond him because it was all he could notice now. Louis turned to the woman standing next to him and placed a hand on her back. “This is my sister, Lottie.”
“Hello,” Lottie greeted, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s lovely to meet you officially. I’m sorry my brother forced you to join us tonight.”
Next to them, Louis gasped, playfully smacking his sister in the arm. “There was no forcing.”
Harry shrugged, holding up his hand, thumb and forefinger about a centimetre apart. “Well, there was a little forcing.” He felt his face heat, not sure where that came from. He definitely didn’t know them well enough to be making jokes like that, but the reaction he got from it made him feel better about it.
Again, Louis gasped while Lottie burst out laughing. “Oh, I like you already,” she said to Harry.
The restaurant had just started getting busy by the time they arrived, but luckily they made it just in time and didn’t have to wait to be seated. They were led to a small table in the corner of the room and Harry thanked the host as he handed them their menus.
As a chef himself, and a restaurant owner, Harry tried his best to not eat out at restaurants. Not like he ever had the time to do it anyway, but whenever the opportunity arose, he usually declined. He couldn’t help comparing his own restaurant to the one he was dining in. He tried to tamper down the part of himself that wanted to do that tonight. He could enjoy his meal and the company without that.
“So, Harry,” Lottie said once they had placed their orders with the waiter. She reached into the basket of complimentary rolls and started slathering one with butter. “What brings you to the coast of France?”
“My daughters surprised me with the trip,” Harry explained before taking a bite out of his own roll. It was still warm in the middle. There were few things in life better than freshly baked bread.
Across the table, Louis spluttered around his water as he took a sip, placing the glass back down on the table in such a hurry that he almost knocked it over in the process. “I”m sorry, I never saw you with anyone so I just assumed you were by yourself. Are you here with your wife, or husband, or partner? Should we have invited them along as well?”
Harry shook his head, wanting to reassure Louis because he looked a little embarrassed by the fact that he had jumped to the conclusion that Harry was here by himself. “Oh no, I am by myself. And I’m single,” he clarified. “I was married but we've been divorced now for ten years. The girls stayed with me because my ex moved to New York before our divorce was even finalized.” That was most certainly more information than either of them were wanting, but sometimes Harry didn’t have a filter and, unfortunately, now happened to be one of those times.
The table was silent after that and Harry ducked his head pulling apart the other half of the roll that was sitting on the plate in front of him. He’d said too much and had made it uncomfortable. They hadn’t even been served their meals yet and he had already ruined dinner. But then a hand reaching across the table to pat his forearm startled him.
Harry looked up to see Lottie looking at him, a sad smile on her face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Divorces are always hard.”
Harry nodded. He was touched that she was reaching out to him, comforting him, but at the same time, he was tired of hearing people say they were sorry whenever he spoke about his divorce. “Thank you, but it was a while ago, I’ve had time to accept it and move on,” he cleared his throat before changing the subject. “Do either of you have children?”
“I do,” Lottie replied. “I have three boys and they are a handful. But Louis here doesn't have any children. And he’s also single.”
Harry’s eyes moved across to the opposite side of the table to where Louis was sitting. He was staring down into his water glass like it held all the answers to life’s greatest questions. Harry watched him for a moment, but Louis didn’t move, so he turned his attention back to Lottie and effectively changed the subject. “How old are your boys?”
“Seventeen, thirteen, and ten,” she answered.
Harry winced in sympathy. “Teenage boys. As someone who used to be one, I apologize on behalf of them. I can’t even imagine the headache I gave my mum when I was that age.”
Lottie laughed, her shoulders shaking with it. “Yeah, they’re all home for the summer holidays and they were doing my head in. My lovely husband paid for this trip and offered to watch them while I was gone. All my girlfriends have children of their own and weren’t able to come with me, so I dragged my grumpy older brother with me instead.”
“Wow,” Louis said, finally jumping back into the conversation. “You’re just throwing out the compliments tonight, Lots. I can really feel the love.”
Reaching out across the table, Lottie patted her hand against Louis’ forearm. “You’re welcome.”
The two of them seemed very close, and the banter between them reminded Harry of him and his own sister. His heart panged at the thought of her because he hadn't seen her in a few months, far too long, and he made a mental note to reach out to her once he was back in London. Maybe take her out to dinner for a catch-up.
Their food arrived shortly after and the conversation flowed easily amongst them as they ate, Harry enjoyed getting to know them. Judging by their accents, Harry could tell they were at least from England—most likely somewhere up north—but he was surprised to find out they both lived in London as well. They split a bottle of red wine between the three of them and it was just the type of wine that Harry loved. He made a note of it in his phone to see if he could order it for his own restaurant. He thought it would be the perfect complement to one of his favourite dishes. He also sent off a text to Liam about it to see if he could look into it.
Louis insisted on paying since he was the one that invited Harry and he said that Harry could pay him back some other way. Harry frowned when he heard Lottie snort in response to that. They walked back to their cottages together, saying their goodbyes just outside and Harry thanked them both for inviting him out to dinner.