Hello.

New story-hope you like it

it's very fast-paced.

Her outfit ⬆️

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Today was supposed to be my day. No, not my birthday, not my wedding, or graduation.

Thanks to my father, I finally got a job–an internship at the BAU–even though my dad pulled some strings, I was going to show each and every one of them that I worked my ass off for that degree.

It was just hard getting to where I wanted to be without having some sort of connection. I'm not exactly proud of having my dad pull some strings. I'm not proud of how I got him to do that for me.

My parents divorced when I was ten, my dad wanted more kids, but my mom didn't. He didn't force her, he just said that kids were a must in his life and that it was ok that she didn't want to, but he was going to divorce her.

I heard the conversation. I was seven, not three. I knew what was going on. I personally thought my dad said it in a nice way, but my mom was furious with him. He left and re-married two years later, and after he remarried, his visits went from every day to two days a month.

I missed my father.

And when he had three more kids with the woman, a lovely woman named Martha, I was jealous, and I refused to see him. I wanted him to fight, to disregard what I said, and still come to see me, but my dad was always about respecting other people's wishes. Always.

I didn't see him again until my high school graduation. I didn't talk to him, and he respected that. He told me he wouldn't miss my graduation for the world, that he was so proud of me, and that if I needed anything for college, I shouldn't hesitate.

I just stared until he kissed my cheek and left. Then I cried and cried.

I saw him again at my college graduation and graduate school graduation party. He asked me for a hug, and since I liked his three other kids, I nodded, and he was so elated. My mother asked him to leave, though.

A few months ago, my father called me to check up on me. I told him I was trying to find a job, and it was hard. Then I thought of something, my dad's rich, he has connections.

I told him that I would fully forgive him if he helped me, even though I already forgave him. Now, I didn't expect a BAU type of job. I just expected a job as a new detective.

But. But.

My smile fell from my face when I learned I was an intern of the infamous–famous Theodore Trancy. The man is a genius and a great homicide detective. He created my favorite true crime show, 'Not Just Four,' about his own grandmother, who took the title of the most prolific satanic woman serial killer.

But this man is rude. He's a loner, an introvert, and he hates social interaction. There was nothing nice about him other than his looks.

In the past year, he's made many reporters cry or walk away in anger, and he doesn't care. He does his job and does it right, so he's full of himself, and rightfully so.

But I didn't want to be his intern. I'm too sensitive to be his intern.

"Stephanie Anderson-Lewis?" A thin woman walked up to me with a clipboard.

I nodded, rubbing my hands together. "Yes, this is her."

She gave me a small smile. "Great, follow me."

I followed her down a long corridor filled with police, detectives, and security. I couldn't wait to see them, coffee in hand, donut in the other.

"Alright, this is his office. I would lead you inside, but...I think you know who Theodore Trancy is."

I nodded.

"Good luck," she smiled one last time before quickly sauntering off.

I took a breath in and exhaled to calm my nerves before turning. "Oh!" I yelped when I found the tall man already behind me. "Mr. Trancy–"

"You're early." His face gripped with the annoyance of a hindrance.

I smiled nervously. "Oh, well, I was very–"

He turned and walked back into his office, leaving the door ajar for me to enter. I sighed and shook it off, entering in and closing the door.

"Anderson or Lewis?"

My eyes fluttered in confusion. "Both, sir. It's Anderson-Lewis–"

"I don't care what it is; choose one for me to call you by."

"But–"

"I don't believe 'but' is a part of your name."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Umm, whatever, Lewis."

He didn't look up. He was looking over the papers that were probably about me. I took that opportunity to really observe him.

He had a turtleneck on. It was black. I noticed from pictures that he always had a turtleneck on. It was always Fall for him, with brownish colors, dark colors.

He was a beautiful man, outrageously tall, with tanned and curly brown hair neatly placed into a bun. His hands...damn, those arms. Veined and muscular and tattooed.

What else could a woman possibly want? I could just imagine his hands running over my body.

I had to keep myself from biting my lip.

"Are you done?" He asked, his face full of smugness. He was handsome, and he knew it.

I felt flustered. "D–done what?"

"Done imagining about my hands,"

No, nah, stop.

How did he know?!

I put my hand on my chest and gasped. "I–sir, that is inappropriate! I would never think of you l–like tha–"

"Stop stuttering. It's annoying."

I was taken aback by his already shit mood. "It's eight in the morning, sir,"

He glared up at me. "Your point?"

I sighed. "It's not good to be so negative at such an early time. The day has just–"

"I don't care–"

I felt my eye twitch. "Stop cutting me off!" I gasped when I realized who I was talking to. "I'm incredibly sorry, sir."

He gave me a side-eye. "Great, now quit and leave me alone."

I scoffed. "No, I worked hard for this–I swear if you cut me off one more time." I gritted when I saw his mouth open.

His eyes were filled with amusement. He wanted me to get annoyed and quit. This is a thirty-seven-year-old man. "As far as I know, Daddy got you in here. I bet you didn't have to do shit."

I furrowed my brows. "No, I–"

"Like I said, I don't care. I didn't want to do this. I will not validate your feelings; I don't care for you, scream and shout and get mad all you like. I don't care. At the end of the day, I just want you gone."

I groaned, sighing. "Challenge accepted, sir."

He rolled his eyes and continued typing and looking over papers.

hope you liked the first chapter.

Y'all remember A'roya and Vincent? Yea? This is their son, Theodore.

heheheeheheh

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