Chanel is ecstatic.
"But what was he doing at Billy's?" Her curiosity oozes through the phone. I'm in the depths of the stock room, trying to keep my voice casual.
"He was in the area."
"I think that is one huge coincidence, (y/n) You don't think he was there to see you?" she speculates. My heart lurches at the prospect, but it's a short-lived joy. The dull, disappointing reality is that he was here on business.
"He had a urgent case here. He flew in on his private jet," I mutter.
"Oh yes. There was a cold case that has been dug up because of a recent murder here."
Wow, how did I not know this.
"How do you know this?"
"(y/n), I'm a journalist, and I've written a profile on the guy. It's my job to know this."
"Okay, Carla Bernstein, keep your hair on. So do you want these photos?"
"Of course I do. The question is, who's going to do them and where."
"We could ask him where. He says he's staying in the area."
"You can contact him?"
"I have his phone number."
Chanel gasps.
"The famous, most elusive, most enigmatic bachelor in Virginia, just gave you his phone number."
"Er... yes."
"(y/n)! He likes you. No doubt about it." Her tone is emphatic.
"Chanel, he's just trying to be nice." But even as I say the words, I know they're not true – Aaron Hotchner doesn't do nice. He does polite, maybe. And a small quiet voice whispers, perhaps Chanel is right. My scalp prickles at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he might like me. After all, he did say he was glad Chanel didn't do the interview. I hug myself with quiet glee, rocking from side to side, entertaining the possibility that he might like me for one brief moment. Chanel brings me back to the now.
"I don't know who we'll get to do the shoot. Levi, our regular photographer, can't. He's home in Sheffield for the weekend. He'll be pissed that he blew an opportunity to photo one of the members of the famous BAU team."
"Hmm... What about Miguel?"
"Great idea! You ask him – he'll do anything for you. Then call Hotchner and find out where he wants us." Chanel is irritatingly cavalier about Miguel.
"I think you should call him."
"Who, Miguel?" Chanel scoffs.
"No, Hotchner."
"(y/n), you're the one with the relationship."
"Relationship?" I squeak at her, my voice rising several octaves. "I barely know the guy."
"At least you've met him," she says bitterly. "And it looks like he wants to know you better. (y/n), just call him," she snaps and hangs up. She is so bossy sometimes. I frown at my mobile, sticking my tongue out at it.
I'm just leaving a message for Miguel when Paul enters the stock room looking for sandpaper.
"We're kind of busy out there, (y/n)," he says without bitterness.
"Yeah, um, sorry," I mutter, turning to leave.
"So, how come you know Aaron Hotchner?" Paul's voice is unconvincingly nonchalant.
"I had to interview him for our student newspaper. Chanel wasn't well." I shrug, trying to sound casual and doing no better than him.
"Aaron Hotchner in Billy's. Go figure," Paul snorts, amazed. He shakes his head as if to clear it. "Anyway, want to grab a drink or something this evening?"
YOU ARE READING
50 shades of Hotchner|| Aaron Hotchner x reader
Romance"I don't think of it as luck or chance, Miss (l/n). The harder I work the more luck I seem to have. It really is all about having the right people on your team and directing their energies accordingly. I think it was Harvey Firestone who said, 'The...
