Finders, Keepers

Chapter Two

It’s Not Stalking, It’s a Carefully Planned Coincidence

Claire remembered a time when she had actually wanted to be with Michael Slayne.

“You know, it used to be so different.” Claire wrapped both of her hands around a coffee mug, reveling in its warmth. The delicious vanilla and coffee beans aroma filled her senses, made her feel slightly giddy and fuzzy inside. Yes, coffee made one feel incredibly fuzzy inside if done just right.

Her friend, Elise, peered at her over the rim of her own mug, which was decorated with splashes of rainbows, flowers and happy messages—a stark contrast to Claire’s plain white one. After a careful sip, in case she burned her tongue, Elise sighed and smiled wearily at her best friend.

“So, this is why you came to London?” Elise asked, a teasing smile played on her pink glossed lips. "This is why you ran from Michael with your tail tucked between your legs?”

Claire frowned. “What?”

There came another sigh from Elise. “Claire, you came here to forget about him, remember? You left the States in order to leave him behind. He’s a continent away now, but you’re still talking about him as if you never left.”

Claire tucked a small strand of pale blonde hair behind an ear, nibbling on her perpetually chapped lower lip, thanks to London weather. It was nearing two weeks since she came to London, of course after begging Elise for a room in her spacious condo home. Claire had no trouble getting used to the busy streets, animated people and fun pups. The cold, however, was a different story. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the cold, which was unlike California’s. California’s cool mornings and wimpy winters were nothing compared to the shockingly gray-white chill of England.

No wonder the English were so pale. Take Elise for example. Her best friend’s smooth, candescently white skin showed no sign of sun exposure, and it made her eyes glow a kind of wildfire blue. Her auburn hair, which was styled in a cute pixie-cut, only added to her brightness. But maybe that was just her. Everything about Elise was just so vibrant that it inevitably carried into her personality. She always laughed with no reservations, her sapphire eyes always dancing. When she was angry, they were set ablaze. Elise never had any qualms about anything, and she lived life freely. Happily. Always smiling. Perhaps it was why Michael had fallen in love with her first.

“Earth to Claire?” Elise waved a petite hand frantically.

Claire blinked, momentarily snapped out of her thoughts. “Sorry, Elise. The coffee’s so good, it’s destroying my brain cells.”

“Melting them into vanilla goodness, eh?”

Claire laughed. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, let’s just celebrate a day of relaxation before your exciting career takes off here in London. No more talking about Michael.” Elise smirked. “Unless you want to.”

“No!” Claire’s reply was suspiciously quick.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about his charming smile?” Elise smiled into her coffee mug. “His soft, cute and curly chocolate brown hair? Oh, and we can’t forget about his striking blue eyes. Mmm, oh and that body!”

Claire was sure that her face could have passed as a tomato right about now. “I especially don’t want to talk about his body—anything about him really. I detest all of him.”

“Fine, fine.” Elise said breezily. “But one final question to put the nail on the coffin.”

“No.” Claire answered with a cock of her eyebrow.

But of course Elise ignored her. “Is he good in bed?”

Claire was the type of woman who was easily embarrassed, easily turning several shades of red until she reached the appropriate scarlet hue. In fact, even when she wasn’t embarrassed, her face turned hotly pink just by laughing, being excited, crying, upset, anything. No, it did not take much to make Claire feel embarrassed or blush, and at the moment she matched Elise’s hair color right down to the roots. Averting her eyes to the olive green walls of the coffee shop, Claire let herself be distracted by black and white photos of coffee works of art, done by professional baristas, then to the lush, fake plants that imposed themselves in every corner. Anything to avoid Elise’s laughing eyes.

“Are you red because you’re blushing…?” Elise teased. “Or is it because you’re choking on your coffee and a bit of it is dribbling out of your mouth?”

Flustered, Claire grabbed a napkin from Elise’s hand and violently dabbed at the corners of her mouth. Unlike the cool and collected façade she showed at work and to the rest of the world, Claire felt as if she was always a wreck of turbulent emotions. Elise was different. To everyone, she was all over the place with creativity and energy as a prodigal artist and photographer, but Elise was internally always grounded, steady and calm.

The two were completely different. Nothing seemed to ever bother Elise, and Claire was rattled by the littlest things. Though, they had one thing in common, and it had bonded them as friends. They both fell in love with Michael Slayne. Instead of fighting each other, they had decided to become friends. It was unusual, but Claire never cared. She had always been alone, absorbed in her work, until she met Elise. When she had lost in the non-existent battle for Michael’s heart, Claire didn’t mind as long as that meant she still had two best friends. At least, she tried not to. Bro’s before ho’s and all that.

Now it was all very different. Elise and Michael barely spoke with each other, and he was following the girl that used to be the third wheel everywhere. Or at least all over the United States, Claire thought to herself victoriously. He’d never find her in London, and she trusted Elise not to spill the beans about her location.

“Is he amazing? Ooh, I bet he is with that incredible mouth of his…” Elise’s voice was lost as she stopped for another sip of her coffee.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Claire snapped. As if Elise didn’t know herself.

Elise smiled mischievously and looked pointedly behind Claire.

“I think I will,” she replied with that lazy English drawl of hers.

Dread. It was a familiar feeling. It happened whenever one expected something to happen, but did not want it to. And by heavens, Claire did not want it to. She didn’t even have to look to know that he was ambling towards their table with an easy smile on his face. He would be wearing impeccable and expensive clothes—probably a white Lacoste dress-shirt, untucked in just the right place, an Italian sports coat, and his favorite pair of dark denim jeans. And if that didn’t catch the attention of all the women—single or not—then she knew that his intense blue eyes, killer smile and “messy in just the right way” hair would do the job just fine.

“Tell me this is not happening, Elise.” Claire hissed between her teeth, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. “Tell me you did not call him to let him know that I was in London.”

“I didn’t call him,” Elise assured her.

“Tell me—“ Claire began, but was effectively cut off by a very male, very amused voice.

“Tell you what?” He whispered, leaning towards her ear so that his breath tickled.

“Oh, we were just discussing how great you were in bed,” Elise piped up. “And hello to you too. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

Although, just by judging how they greeted each other, Claire knew that they had been keeping in touch with each other ever since she came to London.

Remembering his manners, Michael looked up and nodded at Elise with a grin. “Hey, Ellie. You know how it is with work.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Elise rested a chin on both of her delicate hands. “So, yes, we were just about to discuss your, ahem, bedroom prowlness when you so rudely interrupted.”

“What bedroom prowlness?” Claire rolled her eyes.

Michael grinned, still too close for Claire’s comfort. “Claire, you know how amazing I am in bed. I still have the scars on my back to prove it.”

Ignoring him, Claire continued to glare at Elise. “I cannot believe you told him I was here.”

Elise shrugged, and then moved to gather her things. “He’s an FBI agent. Does he really need me to tell him where you are?” She stood, neatly tucking her chair beneath the quaint, mahogany table. “The only thing I told him was that this was the best coffee house in town, and perhaps mentioned that you’d be here with me at this precise time.”

“Elise! I cannot believe you!” Claire made an effort to leave, but Michael put a firm hand on her shoulder to still her. “Elise, you cannot leave me like this.”

But of course she could and she did.

“Always knew I could trust that girl,” Michael commented. Now his hand was massaging her shoulder gently. Claire slapped his hand away, almost tempted to bite it too, but thought better of it.

“Try not to touch me,” she snapped. Snatching her clutch and coffee mug, Claire was ready to leave as well.

Michael shuddered. “Oh, cold. Can we skip to the angry sex part now?”

“No. We are skipping to the part where you tell me what you’re doing here. Then we end with me leaving.” Claire shrugged into her black wool coat.

“That would take awhile, so I think we should discuss this over dinner,” Michael proposed, beaming.

Groaning, she dug her fingers into the temple of her forehead. “Stalking is illegal.”

“This isn’t stalking,” he replied smoothly, “this is a carefully planned coincidence.”

“It is stalking.” Claire pushed past him, heading towards the door.

The little bell jingled above the glazed glass door loudly as Claire pushed her way out, followed by Michael. She managed to walk brusquely for two blocks as she weaved her way through the morning rush crowd before Michael decided to speed up and easily catch up with her. She glanced up quickly and noted that today would be another gray day, with heavy showers to boot. She was quickly realizing why Elise had brought her own umbrella, adamantly telling her that one was enough for both, and that English rain was so romantic.

“Looks like it’s going to rain soon.” Michael commented, coming into step with her. “Do you live far?”

Claire sighed, but decided to ignore him.

“My hotel’s not far from here, just a few more blocks. We’re heading in precisely the right direction.” Michael shook his own neatly folded umbrella at her. “Or I can accompany you home. I’ve even got an umbrella.”

Still no response from her.

“Do I make you that speechless?” Michael asked, chuckling. “You were always quite vocal during our--“

“Shut up!” She hissed at him.

“If you’re not going to talk, I might as well talk for both of us.” He blinked as a mild raindrop fell onto his eyelashes.

They stopped in front of a small park where everyone was busy clearing their things and calling for their kids to come home. She turned to stare at him with warily. The rain was coming down just a little bit harder, and Claire couldn’t help but notice at how startling cobalt his eyes looked in the rain against the achromatic backdrop of London.

“How long do you plan on following me?” Claire asked, quickly directing her eyes elsewhere.

“I’ve been doing it for five years,” Michael remarked casually, “I think I can do it for a few more blocks, Claire.”

“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” Claire bit sarcastically.

The low, murmuring way he said her name made her shiver, and she instinctively rubbed her arms. The gesture made Michael move closer to her, and she froze when he placed both of his hands on her arms, rubbing his thumbs over her goose bumped flesh.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“No,” she answered, pushing him away violently. “And I told you not to touch me.”

He sighed and took another step away from her, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender and peace. “Okay. I’ll tell you why I came to find you, other than the obvious.”

“Why? And what’s the obvious?” Claire asked, curious.

“The obvious is,” Michael paused for dramatic effect, “I love you.”

Claire blinked once. Twice. She stood there, unfazed. He had said it to her so many times that she was able to brush the words off by now. Still, she remained amazed at how easily he always said those three words to her. When she had met him, Michael had been tightlipped about everything, emotions firmly under control. She had seen him angry only twice, and even when he was arduously in love with Elise, he had never once mentioned love.

“Please, I’ve only had coffee. Don’t make me throw up what little I have in my stomach.” Claire said.

A gust of wind assaulted them, blowing rain into her hair and face. Exasperated, Claire tried to manage a façade of calm as she deftly tucked a blonde strand behind her ear. “I can’t believe I am talking to you in this damned weather. I can’t believe I’m talking to you at all.”

“Does it affect you when I say that? That I love you?” Michael asked softly. A soft, curled lock fell forward into Michael’s eyes. Claire noticed that the rest of his hair was also wet; they both probably looked dumb, just staring at each other while his umbrella remained unopened in the rain. The park was nearly empty now, save for some romantic couples walking underneath shared umbrellas.

“Not at all,” she replied nonchalantly. She tucked another wet strand of hair behind her ear.

He gestured at her movements. “Yes you are. You only do that when you’re nervous.”

“Do what?” Her hands immediately stilled.

“Tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.” He reached out to touch her soft hair, tucking another stray strand behind an ear for her. “Like that.”

“Touching,” she reminded him in a warning tone.

“Ah. Right.”

“What did you want to tell me?” Claire asked impatiently.

Suddenly, his expression hardened and his mouth set into a grim line. “That case we were working on—“

“We?” Claire echoed incredulously.

Michael sighed. “Fine—that case that you were working on and I maliciously sabotaged.”

“Much better.”

”Even though it turned out that I saved your life since you were in way over your head—“

“What about the case?” Claire hissed, her anger now paramount. It was amazing just how much he could aggravate her.

“We may finally get to know who Worthington is.” Michael replied.

Claire’s eyes widened in excitement, anger momentarily forgotten. “What? How?”

“Somebody came forward to the FBI,” Michael explained. “Somebody that had been working for him.”

“Who? Why come forward now? What changed?”

“She isn’t just a regular employee.” His eyes darted to the goosebumps on her flesh, and when she shivered he opened his umbrella to protect her from the rain. “Do you want my coat?”

Claire snickered. “I already have a coat on. Chivalry is dead, so cut the crap and just tell me about this person.” She paused, hesitant. “Wait—why are you telling me all this? I’m not even on the case anymore, thanks to you, Todd, and that false arrest.”

“At least you brought down one of their operations,” Michael pointed out.

“Yeah, but God knows how many more he has running or has started up already.” Claire sighed, suddenly feeling tired. She found that Michael had that effect on her. The man was insufferable. “Why are you telling me all this information?”

“Because I want you to come home with me.” Michael said, always with that grin of his.

Claire threw up her hands, exasperated. “I knew it! You’re insane.”

“Come home with me, and I’ll give you more details.” The growing sound of the pouring rain drowned out his next words. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I know you too well, Slayne,” Claire said. “What do you mean by ‘come home with me?’ Back to the States or…”

“Back to America with me would be a start,” Michael finished for her.

He sounded so sincere, so tender. Claire studied his eyes for a moment, trying to read him. There was just no understanding him, she thought.

“What if…”

Michael held his breath as she moved closer to him, her green eyes peering into his questioningly.

“What is it, Claire?” He murmured.

There it was again. That way he said her name. This time, she shivered but not from the cold.

Just walk away, a little voice warned.

She wanted to know.

“What if I asked you to stay with me?” Claire asked, but she wasn’t sure if he could hear the question over her frantically beating heart.

“Stay with you as in… Tonight?”

Her heart began to sink. Why are you asking him when you already know the answer, her mind implored. “No. Stay with me here in England. Maybe get a fresh start here with me. You’ve been coming after me for years now. I could give you what you want. Me. But you have to stay here with me.”

“You’d want me to?” Michael asked, puzzled.

Claire swallowed, but something remained lodged. “What if I did?”

Michael shook his head in disbelief.

“You know my work wouldn’t allow that—I don’t have that luxury, Claire.” Michael sighed. “Going back to America would be much better, don’t you think? You have a good career there, and I—We can always work something out later on. Are you serious?“

Claire shook her head, laugher bubbling through her lips. “I See. No, I understand. It was just a question, Slayne. Don’t get your hopes up.”

He stared at her, confused. “What?”

“I’ll think about it,” Claire said. “I’ll think about going back to America, but only to work on the case. Maybe.”

She started to turn away from him. Elise would be waiting for her at home.

Michael grabbed onto her arm. “Wait a minute. What did all that just mean? Were you just playing with me?”

“Yes. I wanted to commit my cruel act of the day and get it over with.”

Are you angry with me?”

Claire slowly extricated herself from his gentle grip, and smiled up at him. Later, he would tell her how much that smile hurt. “No. I’ve been too tired to be angry.”

The rain was still as relentless as ever.

Elise plopped down uninvited, settling down into an Indian cross-legged position on the soft pink-hued carpet. A cookie dangled from her lips while another was offered in her hand. Claire smiled, grabbing the snicker doodle gratefully.

“Got pneumonia yet?” Elise teased.

Claire had come home sopping wet, looking more miserable than a drowned rat. After a warm bowl of Elise’s tomato soup, two hot showers and lots of fuzzy towels, Claire had managed to get her anger under control. It was funny how she couldn’t tell anger from disappointment anymore.

“So, do you want to tell me what happened? And this time maybe without all the blubbering and cursing?” Elise brushed the crumbs from the corners of her mouth.

“Fuck him,” Claire muttered.

“Okay… Maybe with a little swearing,” Elise said, laughing. “What in bloody hell happened between the two of you?”

Claire scoffed, taking a vicious second bite out of her cookie. “You mean today or years ago when he royally screwed me over?”

“Erm… We can start with today.”

“He practically bribed me into coming back to America with him,” Claire said, brandishing the half-eaten cookie in the air angrily. “Bribed me with information on my own case!”

“The one on Garnet Company? You’ve been working on that one for so long!” Elise had a bad feeling about where this was going. Michael was prone to stupidity whenever it involved Claire.

“Yes. The one in which I was in way over my head, made the wrong arrest, and Michael had to come running to rescue me in all his FBI glory.” She rolled her eyes contemptuously.

“Uh—I didn’t say that,” Elise squeaked. “More tomato soup?”

“No, thank you. It’s what he says. As if the whole thing was my fault and not his and his stupid boyfriend’s!” Claire swallowed the last of her cookie.

Elise blinked rapidly. Wait, what? “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, Todd.”

“Who’s Todd?”

“Some guy that’s in love with Michael.”

“Oh.” Elise was still confused, if not more so.

“Anyway, so he’s got this new lead on the case and won’t give me anymore information unless I go back with him.” Claire sighed, moving to lie on her stomach. She hugged a small, plush pillow to her chest, looking at Elise for some advice.

“He’s a lot more manipulative than I remember…” Was all Elise managed to say.

Claire nodded. “Oh, yes. He’s actually grown into more of an asshole.”

“Oh, come off it now,” Elise said gently. “You didn’t used to feel this way.”

“I do now.” Claire muttered bitterly.

Elise frowned. “What happened to the two of you? Oh bugger, what happened to us?”

“What do you mean?” Claire tried to smooth the baby hairs from her bangs down. “Are you in love with me too?”

“Don’t be cocky, I never date blondes. I meant the three of us. We used to be such good friends.” Elise replied wistfully. “Everything was so good between us.”

“Yes. We were friends, but that changed. After what he did to me, I don’t think he and I could ever be friends.” Claire said quietly.

“Can’t you ever forgive him? He really does love you.” Elise reached over to Claire’s desk for a brush, then offered the metallic blue hand brush.

“Does he?” Claire asked, giving her friend a skeptical look.

“He’s been so utterly devoted to you for so long—“

“And yet when I tell him he can finally have me… He completely shuts me down.” Claire said, brushing her hair absent-mindedly.

“What?” Elise’s eyes widened. “You were going to give in? And what’s more—he was stupid enough to turn you down?”

“No!”

“So, he didn’t turn you down?”

“No! I mean, I didn’t give in. I was testing him to see what he would say, and my suspicions were definitely confirmed.” Claire slammed the brush down. “Michael Slayne can only think of himself.”

“Wait, what do you mean? What did you say to him?” Elise asked, leaning forward in excitement.

“I asked him to stay here with me. You know, start a new life together maybe.” Claire explained.

“Oh.” Elise leaned back, shoulders slumped in defeat. And there was the rub. Staying in England would be terrible for his career, and both she and Claire knew how important Michael’s job was to him.

“But of course he could never do that for me. Forget how much he loves me, or so he says. His job was more important, and now all these years of him trying to ‘win’ me back means nothing at all. I can’t believe I even asked him when obviously I already knew the answer.”

“Would you have left your job for him?” Elise asked.

Claire looked surprised by the question.

“That’s not the point,” Claire waved a hand dismissively, “I didn’t ask him seriously. Like I said, I was only trying to see where he stood and now I know. Michael does not love me.”

Elise just shook her head and decided not bother with convincing. Once Claire had made up her mind, everything else simply didn’t matter. Unfortunately, Michael had exactly the same mindset.

“The question remains though,” Elise pointed out. “Are you going back with him?”

Claire shook her head in a definite ‘no.’ “Unless it’s traveling back with his dead corpse to help American officials identify him, I don't think I'll be going anywhere with him anytime soon. Or ever."

Elise nodded. “Right.”

Author’s Note:

I PROMISE to explain their relationship in the next chapter. I had originally planned to write their back-story as a whole ‘nother story, but I think I like it better this way. More surprises! So with that said, I won’t be explaining everything about their relationship.

Thanks for reading and make sure to leave me some feedback!