Harry And The Lady Next Door Novels & Stories

It was obvious she recognized me but I think they have rules against trying to talk or get into conversation with celebrities because her face spoke excited but she could not talk. “reservations under King, Noah King.” “okay, your room number is 159, top floor, you pin is the code you gave while making the reservations.” “okay, thanks.” Noah said, I looked across the large hall only to notice someone eyes on me. the person looked familiar and I could not bring myself to look away. I walked closer and he did too, this is Harry from the camp I used to go to when I was a kid. “Harry.” I said with a chuckle,

She said and stood up. “Am not blind,am just looking for the music department” “Well, that’s your problem” She tried to leave but i held her wrist. “Don’t touch me” She said and yanked her hand away, she’s so aggressive. “Can you give me directions to the music department?” “Ask someone else,leave me the hell alone”She walked away. I watched her stop, then turn around,she walked back to me. “Listen carefully,Hazel eyes,i know you are my next door neighbor and you saw something,i don’t you telling anyone”

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t fresh. A curse didn’t care about time. It cared about the bond. Tonight was the night I used it. Harry’s house sat at the edge of town, isolated on purpose. He thought it made him safer. It made it easier for me. I didn’t knock. The door splintered under my shoulder with a crack that echoed through the quiet. Harry was waiting for me in the main room. Of course he was. He’d heard the wards break the moment I stepped onto the property.

"Wait." I looked away. "Is this his shirt?" I swallowed hard. “Yes." Maya just stared at me as I rubbed the back of my neck nervously. "And I found out last night that he lives next door." The room went silent. Then… "HE WHAT?!" "Lives next door.” I repeated slowly like I was reminding myself. "Next door as in same street?" "No, same building.” Her jaw dropped. "Same floor?" "Yes… ground floor." Her eyes somehow widened even further. "Ariana. You sat on a stranger's lap and he turned out to be your neighbor?"

I hid my identity as a Mafia heiress to live a quiet life. I never thought my new neighbors would be the ones to pick a fight they can’t win. I'd just gotten back from the gallery when my phone started blowing up. On the Nextdoor community forum, a woman named Brenda had @'d me. "Hey, penthouse girl. You're single. What do you need a whole rooftop garden for? My husband's throwing a party. We'll be needing it starting tomorrow."

Just as Harry prepared to rummage through my parents' bedside tables to find anything valuable, the neighbor opposite happened to take the garbage out and saw the door open with the interior looking like a mess. Seeing a man sneaking around inside and rummaging through things, the neighbor got suspicious. She quietly hid to the side and took her phone out to call the police, quietly describing the situation and saying that someone was robbing the house opposite. The police arrived very quickly with a police camera, and they dashed into the house, catching Harry right in the act.

Then the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Arielle and her mother. 'Oh no. She's here to confront me,' I thought. "Sorry to bother you," Arielle's mother said. "We just moved in next door." Still rattled, I answered, "Hello. I'm Neil Gates." "Here's the thing—I have to go on a business trip for a week. My daughter… isn't quite right in the head." She tapped her temple. "Could you possibly look after her? I'd really appreciate it."

The night around the area had slowly quieted down. Harry stared at his phone screen, scrolling through the group chat that had gone silent an hour ago. He took a deep breath, muttering under his breath, “I’ve got plans to go shopping with Delilah tomorrow. Maybe I’ll ask her to have dinner too.” He took one last drag from his cigarette before crushing it on the ground. Then he dialed a number. “It’s me. Harry.” The woman on the other end sounded surprised, and a little too pleased. “You? Calling me this late? I thought you said we shouldn’t talk in private anymore.”

My name is Gavin York. I’m thirty-five years old, and I have worked in the city for the past five years. It’s been tough to get by lately, so I decided to get a roommate to cut down on rent and living costs. I advertised online and waited, but months ticked by with nothing. Just as I was about to take down the notice, a message from someone named Rose Wilder popped up in my feed. Her profile picture showed a woman with a sultry, mature vibe, but her page was blank. It looked like she had just appeared out of thin air.

I huffed in defeat when he let his arms fall, throwing the phone into his pocket only to lean close to me, “Even a pervert wouldn't need to look at your pic twice before it ends up in the trash.” “Then why did you want it in the first place?” I scoffed. “Just to make fun of you.” He added, winking at me. Stomping off, a peppery sensation burned in my eyes, but I made sure to reach outside before I let tears roll down my cheeks. Taking the backyard again, I hurried into my room, locked myself in, and then curled myself up in the sheet. After which I pressed my mouth into the pillow and sobbed. Harry had also said the same thing, but his was more hurtful.