50 Shades of Styles

Chapter 3

Everything in it is entirely imaginary and intended only for entertainment; I created it for fun. I did not write 50 Shades of Grey or any of its characters, and I do not own them.

Chapter 3

Zayn is ecstatic.

"But what was he doing at Clayton's?" His 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, Lou. You don't think he was there to see you?" he 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 was visiting the farming division of WSU. He's funding some research," I mutter. 

"Oh yes. He's given the department a $2.5 million grant."

Wow.

"How do you know this?"

"Lou, I'm a journalist, and I've written a profile on the guy. It's my job to know this."

"Okay, Jay 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 cell phone number."

Zayn gasps.

"The richest, most elusive, most enigmatic bachelor in Washington State, just gave you his cell phone number."

"Er... yes."

"Lou! He likes you. No doubt about it." His tone is emphatic.

"Zayn, he's just trying to be nice." But even as I say the words, I know they're not true

– Harry Styles doesn't do nice. He does polite, maybe. And a small quiet voice whispers, perhaps Zayn is right. My scalp prickles at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he might like me. After all, he did say he was glad Zayn 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. Zayn 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 Idaho Falls for the weekend. He'll be pissed that he blew an opportunity to photograph one of America's leading entrepreneurs."

"Hmm... What about Niall?"

"Great idea! You ask him – he'll do anything for you. Then call Styles and find out where he wants us." Zayn is irritatingly cavalier about Niall.

"I think you should call him."

"Who, Niall?" Zayn scoffs.

"No, Styles."

"Lou, you're the one with the relationship."

"Relationship?" I squeak at him, my voice rising several octaves. "I barely know the guy."

"At least you've met him," he says bitterly. "And it looks like he wants to know you better. Lou, just call him," he snaps and hangs up. He is so bossy sometimes. I frown at my cell, sticking my tongue out at it.

I'm just leaving a message for Niall when Paul enters the stock room looking for sand paper.

"We're kind of busy out there, Lou," he says without acrimony.