I read through the analysis report for the fifth time in a row, and caught my mind just before it wandered off…again, leaving me with an unending frown and unfocused mind.

My phone watched me from where it sat at my desk, awfully silent. It had not buzzed since the morning.

Well, technically it had. Just not from the person I was expecting.

It was past three in the afternoon. Maeve had not texted me yet, and that was making me more anxious. Not like there was anything particular I was waiting for. But a simple Hi or What you up to? would have done enough to sooth my nerves.

It had got to a point that I was actually considering to get a therapist myself. Because fuck was I obsessed with that insanely captivating woman.

I heaved a sigh and set the report down on my desk. My fingers stapled before my mouth and I stared at the door. I glared at it. As if challenging Maeve to push it open and walk inside by some miracle.

It was ridiculous. Why was I expecting her to text me so bad?

Maybe because it had been a whole day and half since we had seen each other. And after a whole week of mind-blowing sex in several crazy position and inexplicable spots around the house, a text was the least I could expect to keep my head in place.

Maeve started with her job yesterday, so I was warned well in advance that she would be too busy to text, or call, or meet. I had no idea what job kept her so busy. But again, I did not want to be a creep by probing out every little detail about her workplace.

Now that I thought about it, I should have at least asked for the address. If it was a restaurant, I could grab a lunch there later. If it was any kind of store, I would surely find a few things to pick up. If it was somewhere I couldn’t go, I would find a

way in. Just a sneak peek at her, in her work clothes. I wanted to see what she looked like when she was bored of

looking sexy all the time. If that was even possible.

That was not being a creep, was it?

Sure is.

I rubbed a finger against my eye, trying to grind down the unnecessary irritation off my face. I was done with sessions for the day, but I had stuffs to do. And I wouldn’t

finish any of it if all I could think about was Maeve. And what's more? I was more than willing to let her occupy most of my mind. If not all of it.

Gosh, I have it bad for her. Real bad.

I knew what I needed. Some fresh slaps of cool air against my stupid face. I needed to breathe deeply and not smell vanilla all around me. The thought made me smile as I stood up from my desk and stretched my arms above my head.

When I made my way out, Mrs. Kennedy was busy on the phone behind the counter, so I slid out without her notice, thankful that her attention was away from me. Mrs.

Kennedy could be a lot like my mother sometimes. She said what she had in mind, even if it made someone standing before her—which was me most of the times—uncomfortable.

As soon as I stepped outside the clinic, a gust of cool breeze brushed past me, making me momentarily stiffen with

shivers. But even shivers felt good against my skin now, it reminded me of the warmth I longed for, from a particular

someone. Reminded me of the feeling of being around her... inside her.

I quickly caught my mind before it went that way and yanked it back by the neck.

It was rather deserted across the parking lot, compared to front side of the building which looked over the streets. Obviously, I turned into the parking lot. My head was crowded enough.

No more people for the rest of the day.

I mindlessly strolled into the parking lot, stuffing my hands into my slacks pocket, feeling the chill settled on my shoulders. My intention of coming out in the open was to clear my mind off, but I found it reverting back to the first night I had

spent at the house with Maeve.

Hearing her confess that she had once fallen in love with Michael had left a lingering jealousy stabbing at my

chest, although it was the most obvious thing to happen between a couple married for five years—in most cases at least.

My eyes aimlessly narrowed at the ground. If what Maeve said was true—which I didn’t doubt at all—Michael would have no issues with me and Maeve getting together. Would he?

Now, ‘getting together’ was a wrong term. We were together. There was no doubting that. I wouldn’t let another man wander close enough to hint the whiff of her fragrance now. And somehow, I was very positive she would do the same for me, accordingly. Especially if I considered her distaste for blondes.

A laugh bubbled up my throat everytime I pictured her scrunched up face, pinpointing just how sensibly blonde wasn't her color.

There was no word to describe this exact feeling of jealously, mixed with longing and lingering memories, with a sprinkle of aimless smiles directed at nothings. Or maybe there was, I was just carefully ignoring it.

The random thought made me chuckle, as I scratched my temple and looked around to make sure no one had seen me laughing absent-mindedly at the ground like a maniac.

To my surprise, there was someone. And he was looking at me. Straight at me.

I halted in my steps as the man standing at the far end of the parking lot caught my eyes. Dressed in a decent grey suit

and sharp cut facial features, he mildly resembled a celebrity body guard, minus the papers clasped between his fingers.

For a brief moment, he seemed to study my face, switching glances between the file in his hand and me, then squared his shoulder, making his way toward me.

In a matter of six seconds that it took him to cover the distance between us, I had successfully measured the possibilities of him being a hired bouncer sent by Michael to break my face because he had found out about me and Maeve.

But the chances were really low with the suit clinging to his body, and a file clasped between with hands. He looked almost... professional.

And the chances immediately fell to zero when he extended a hand out to me as soon as he was close enough.

“Mr. Cole, I assume?” He addressed, voice thick with an accent I couldn’t point out.

“Yes,” I shook his extended hand, firmly .“Doctor Ian Cole.”

“I am Advocate Andrew Boyce.” He gave me a curt nod with just a hint of a professional smile. “I was hoping to

have a word with you.”

Advocate? Did someone sue me? Michael?

I nodded stifly. “Sure. About what? If I may ask.”

His eyes briefly wandered on the file in his hand, then back to me. His expression shifting from casual to focused.

“Do you think we can discuss this somewhere private?”

My eyebrows twitched to frown, but my lips pressed together and drew into a smile as I invited him into my clinic.

Something felt wrong. I could tell by the uneasy look in his face, and the way his fingertips curled then uncurled against his palm. When we walked back into the clinic, Mrs. Kennedy looked over at us with a surprised look, which quickly blended into her usual gentle smile when she noticed I had a guest.

For the first time, I didn’t stop to smile back at her—I didn’t know why—as we made our way into my office.

“Please, have a seat Mr. Boyce,” I circled to my side of the table, and sat down, adjusting myself in my seat, twice.

It didn’t even make sense, but his presence here was making me anxious. For a number of reasons.

First, I didn’t fancy unexpected guests, other than my clients.

Just as I stapled my fingers over the table, he cleared his throat. “Mr. Cole,” he took out a few papers from the file and placed them flat against the table, soothing out the edges with his fingers, “I was hoping you could help me reach out to Miss. Maeve Adams.”

My ears perked out at the mention of the name, and my eyebrows pinched together. “Maeve Adams?”

“Yes,” his dark eyes assessed me, as if trying to find answers to his silent questions. "I assume you're acquainted?"

I knew it was a ridiculous time to feel that pang of jealously, but it rose unbidden. Hearing her name from an unknown man was worth the reaction.

Correction to my previous statement, I didn’t like unexpected guests...enquiring about Maeve.

“I am. Very well. Why? What’s the matter?”

He seemed to be surprised by the clipped tone of my voice, because he opened his mouth to speak then closed it tight. His finger tapped against the papers resting

on the table. “I’m afraid I am only allowed to discuss this with Miss Adams.”

Then why was he here? Actually, I was glad he was here.

I leaned back on my seat. “And I’m afraid I don’t prefer disclosing my girlfriend’s contacts to just anyone who drops by my office.”

The word girlfriend tasted funny in my mouth, but I said it with such confidence that I had just convinced a fucking lawyer about it. I knew it by the blank look on his face.

For a lawyer, he looked quite clueless about this whole situation.

“I was Frank Adams’ lawyer,” he said, frowning. “And I need to discuss the details of his will with his daughter.”

Maeve’s father? The guy she clearly wasn’t fond talking about.

I crossed my arms against my chest. “Still not enough detail for me,”

“Mr. Cole plea–”

“Before that,” I leaned forward on the table, “would you like to explain how you are aware of my connections with Miss. Adams?”

His face twisted in a knowing look. As if he had expected the question coming his way.

A bad feeling rose at the back of my head.

“I tried contacting Miss Adams myself. But when my emails and calls went unanswered, Mr. Devin,” he cleared

his throat, like the name was making his mouth itch, “Miss. Adams’ step brother, led me to you. He said I could reach out to her more easily through you.”

Okay, this was a little too much.

Maeve had a step brother? Since when? How was I just hearing about it?

But again, I hardly knew anything about her family other than her dead father.

“And how does he know me?”

Andrew shrugged. “He is infamous for knowing everything about everyone.”

“What does that mean?”

First, he shot me a confused look, then sighed into submission, tone switching from professional to casual quickly. “Look, I need to speak to Maeve about her share in her father’s will. If she does not give an answer, it will all be passed over to her step brother.”

He said it in a way which suggested he wasn’t very fond of the scenario he just pictured. My fingers twitched under the table as I raised my eyes to him.

“If you could drop by, first thing tomorrow morning, I can take you to Maeve myself,” I said, with not the slightest of certainty. I was confused beyond measures.

Andrew seemed to ponder hard over the offer, but eventually nodded in agreement.

But first, I needed to talk to Maeve. I couldn’t let anyone know her address. Even if it was her father’s lawyer. Plus, there were so many questions I had now. Added to the list of prior ones. There were so many things I was unaware of. And even if it made me a creep, I wanted to be nosy now.

When I got home after work, with a heavy head and much heavier feet, I had managed to drag myself into the shower.

After shower, Niall met me on the living room couch, as I sat down to watch a soccer match with him.

He asked me if I was okay. I told him I was just tired. Which was not totally a lie. I was tired and stressed.

Before Andrew had left my office in the afternoon, he had said something about Devin dragging out Maeve’s past profession against her for the sake of the share in the will. It had confused me to an extent that I had simply nodded through everything he had mention after that, not hearing a damn thing.

According to my unpolished knowledge gained through the nights I spent with her, Maeve had no job when she was married to Michael. But that was where my little supply of knowledge ended. I had no idea about her profession before she got married to Michael.

And it bothered me too much. Because it felt like a big part of her past was still unknown to me.

What did she do before she met Michael? What was her life like?

Sighing, I glanced down at my phone for the zillionth time since morning. I had left Maeve a few texts, but my phone had not buzzed yet.

Perhaps it had. Just not from the person I was expecting.

The thought surfaced with a deep frown, but it quickly subsided when a caller ID swiped my screen up. An unknown number.

I received the call with an exaggerated roll of my neck, because I had my fill of surprises for the day and nothing would catch me off guard. Or so I had thought.