Hello! This is a story I started last year that has been reposted. I have the first few chapters finished and will add new chapters pretty steadily. If you like suspenseful romances then this is for you! Please fave/follow/review so I can see if anyone is reading this. Lots of love, theburningone.

"Expect a chill this morning as you start out your day with lows of 42 F. Winds will pick up considerably in the next few hours, especially for you folks making your morning commute on Lake Shore Drive," came the meteorologist's voice from the living room. Kurt wondered why she sounded so cheerful at 6 AM. It was late May and the weather in Chicago was not cooperating with his spring wardrobe.

Sighing, he trudged his way from his bedroom to the bathroom, fixing his towel securely about his waist. His eyes swept quickly around the blue-tiled bathroom, searching for his morning creams. He looked up at his reflection, studying the pale skin, smoothly combed chestnut hair, and the slight shadow of hair on his jaw. He had changed quite a bit since high school, with more muscle on his formerly waif-thin frame and wider shoulders. Kurt applied some of the cold cream onto his forehead, appraising his reflection further. It was sort of amazing what several hours at the gym and a few inches in height had done to him. He had always been ridiculed in school for his feminine body and pretty face. His face still looked pretty but angular as well, and while he would always be thin (so long as he stuck to his healthy eating regimen), it wasn't at the expense of looking weak.

He ducked his head in the sink to quickly wash the cream away and walked into the living room where the early morning news anchors were still blathering away in excitement.

"Looking for something to do this weekend? You could win two tickets to see Othello -"

The anchorman's voice abruptly cut as Kurt turned off the TV. He sat down and started eating the oatmeal and fruit he made earlier and decided to go over what he had to do for the day. Incidentally, he was in charge of the fashion design for Othello, which would be playing in the Chicago Theatre in a few weeks. Kurt enjoyed his job as a marketing consultant at Bassinger & Mosely. He remembered when he started out as an intern seven years ago. It had seemed impossible then to imagine himself, Kurt Hummel, the naive boy from Lima, Ohio, living on his own and making his way into the world. The circumstances under which he had to leave home still gave him nightmares. In the span of a few months he was forced to leave everything he knew behind. He had moved from city to city in search of a new place to call home and it had felt like such a relief when Chicago seemed to be that place.

Kurt shook his head, attempting to rid the feelings that still bubbled furiously in him everytime he thought back to the summer he graduated from high school. His phone beeped and he picked it up, seeing a missed call from Luke. He had left a text message asking Kurt to call him back and would it be alright if they cooked dinner tonight at his place this time? Kurt ran his hands through his hair, unsure of how to respond and wondering again for the umpteenth time why Luke even bothered to remain interested in him. Thinking it would take him a long time to understand, he stood up quickly and gathered his dishes to place in the sink before marching back to his room and pulling on the outfit he had put together the night before. Standing in front of his full length mirror, he surveyed the black blazer and pants set he decided to pair with a dark gray dress shirt and a plain coral tie. Luke had told him a few days ago how coral highlighted the color of his lips.

Kurt glanced at his watch, noting it was already approaching 7 AM and he had yet to style his hair and rushed into the bathroom once more to do so. Running a comb deftly through his hair, he looked at his appearance once more, and, seemingly satisfied, grabbed his leather satchel and fresh coffee from the kitchen counter. He gave his small but cozy apartment one last look before donning his shoes and hurrying out the door.

It was 8:30 AM and Blaine was running late. The seemingly sunny morning had turned downcast and the wind kept trying to blow his briefcase out of his hands. He had been fifteen minutes from downtown when he decided it would be better if he just ran the rest of the way. The cars were congested and his taxi driver kept turning the news louder and louder. His taxi driver tried to tell him that the meteorologist was now warning of heavy rains but he brushed it off and gave him money before leaping out of the car. Now, twenty minutes later, his suit was nearly soaked, his hair completely ruined and bound to be frizzy later, and he was late for his first day of work.

Blaine kept looking for the gray, stone building he was supposed to go to but all the buildings looked the same. Groaning in frustration, he tried to squint through the rain at the people around him, hopeful that someone, anyone, would have the letters B&M embossed in gold somewhere on their person. There were people everywhere, rushing in and out of buildings, stumbling from taxis and buses, and it was nearly impossible to discern anything in the heavy downpour.

He let out a breath and continued to walk before noticing a man stepping off one of the buses, the gold letters glittering on his bag. Blaine grinned and watched as he entered a building across the street before following him in. The inside of the building revealed a great hall that he remembered and people were streaming left and right. He looked around for the man and saw him standing near a receptionist. Hoping he wouldn't notice, Blaine walked towards him, trying not to catch his eye. As he came closer, he could make out the man's professional yet casual clothes and his conversation with the woman. His chestnut hair was coiffed slightly in the front and gleamed in the morning sunlight.

"I know this is only temporary Jess but I want you to know I'm here for you," he was saying to the blonde woman who was looking up at him from her desk.

"I've had this job for, like, a year and I saved up enough to move out. Can you believe it? He won't know what hit him when he finds out I'm gone!" Jess said, clapping her hands excitedly.

The man had a small smile on his face and was about to respond before he suddenly looked up and Blaine was met with stone gray eyes and a beautiful face. His features were at once delicate and arresting and he had generous pink lips which sat below a cute, upturned nose. For a few seconds, they held each other's eyes and the strangest feeling spread throughout his body. He tried to smile politely before quickly averting his gaze. He couldn't help thinking that something about this man seemed so familiar. The man whispered quietly to Jess, who looked up at Blaine, her smile fading. Blaine turned around and pretended to stare outside the window. He heard the man start to leave and walked behind him to the elevators. For some reason, he couldn't remember the floor the office was located on and another glance at his watch told him he was very late indeed.

Two elevator doors opened, both of them going up, and the man with the gray eyes went inside one while a woman went inside the other.

"Shall I hold the door for you sir?" she asked, looking at him kindly. Blaine was about to reply before he saw the door for the first elevator about to close and launched himself full body into it before it emitted a loud beep and opened up again. Blaine smiled apologetically at the man before walking in, who was giving him an incredulous look. Embarrassed, he looked away and tried to busy himself by patting down his suit. There was no use; he knew he looked ridiculous.

"Which floor?" the man asked, his voice catching Blaine by surprise. It was high and slightly delicate yet soft. He had already pressed number 39 and Blaine suddenly remembered that being the floor where Jacob Bassinger was now sitting in his office, waiting for him.

Blaine cleared his throat.

"Uh, I think we're going to the same floor."

The man looked at him and again, Blaine was struck with the same strange feeling he had yet to characterize. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

The elevator came to a sudden stop and the man stepped out quickly before disappearing inside a corridor. Blaine looked around and saw the B&M insignia on the receptionist's desk. The woman sitting there looked up and simply pointed him towards a door on the left. Blaine peered down at his slightly disheveled clothes and wished he had had more time to put himself together. Running his fingers through his curls, he took a deep breath and walked in.

Inside the large office and sitting in a chair was Jacob Bassinger, long-time friend of his father. Blaine had decided to follow in his footsteps in criminal defense law and his father had appointed him an important task in Chicago. It had only taken a few months to set up an office and he was already busy getting new clients. Mr. Anderson Senior was representing a highly influential and wealthy family in Lima, Ohio and one of Blaine's responsibilities was to assist with their case. So Blaine's father called Jacob a few weeks ago asking for a favor and now he was here.

He walked up to Jacob's desk, intent on making a good first impression.

"Mr. Bassinger I apologize for running late, I-"

But Jacob was waving his hands. "Not to worry Blaine, I was just on the phone with your old man, says you like to rush around in the morning?"

Blaine flushed, already formulating the conversation he would be having later with his father. Jacob chuckled knowingly and beckoned him to come closer.

"Listen, I would give you a tour but we are kind of going through a rough transition. Got some deadlines today and a last minute staff meeting. Do me a favor and go find Ms. Melon, she'll show you your new office."

"Where is-"

"Just ask the receptionist. I'll catch up with you later," Jacob said, reaching for his phone.

Blaine nodded and walked back out to the receptionist, who must have already read his mind because she picked up her phone and asked for Ms. Melon to come to her desk. A short Black woman who looked to be in her forties came up behind him and motioned him to follow. Despite her height, she was walking fast and Blaine had trouble keeping up. She was also talking loudly on the phone.

"You have less than an hour to send me that email or I will-what was that? No, Kurt does not have time to look through your proofs, just send me the pictures and, wait, hold on Bernard."

They had reached the end of one of the long corridors and there was a large office with his name already emblazoned on the front door. Ms. Melon looked at him before opening the door and Blaine followed her inside. The office was bare but he could tell that Jacob was trying his best to make him feel welcome.

"Now listen, I may be your new secretary but that does not mean you expect me to hang your coat," Ms. Melon said.

Blaine looked at her, startled. "No ma'am, I don't expect you to."

"Yes sir! And I won't be bringing you no coffee, no tea, none of that till you've earned it, got it?"

Blaine shook his head yes, still staring at her and wondering just what he would be getting into at his new job. Ms. Melon narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth to say something before her phone started ringing again.

"Yeah, Bernard? Oh, Kurt! How are you baby?" Blaine noticed her tone of voice change dramatically and something of a smile graced her features. Then a thought crossed his mind. Kurt. He had heard that name before. He tried to think where but kept drawing a blank.

"I know, I just told him now about not calling you. Me? I'm showing around the new person. I think this was the one the boss man was saying you would be working with. You should see how he looks! Lord knows I ain't never seen such a mess," she laughed and Blaine looked around the room desperately for a towel. He could literally feel the heavy weight of his wet clothes hanging off his body and willed them to air dry.

"Hold on Kurt," she glanced over at Blaine before saying, "You won't find an extra suit if that's what you're looking for. There's a men's bathroom that might have some paper towels though I doubt that will do you much good. You better hurry, staff meeting in twenty and the boss man's gonna want you to meet the rest of the folk."

With that she walked out of his new office and Blaine put his things on the desk and let out a long breath. It was going to be a long day. There was a single sheet of paper on the desk outlining the major points of the meeting and he spent some time looking over it. Othello's opening night, the title read, and right below that, the name Kurt Hummel was written. Paying closer attention he eyed the rest of the paper, seeing if he could find out something else about this Kurt. Blaine continued to skim and found nothing but noticed his own name in bold. He hoped the introduction wouldn't be too long. He simply hated ice breakers. He put the sheet down and looked around the office. To be sure, his father's office back home was much more impressive than this. Mr. Anderson Senior was a very successful lawyer and seeked every opportunity to make the world know. His father had a contractor from Europe build a large, cathedral-inspired building in which to house his practice. Blaine looked around again and thought that he very much preferred Jacob's stately yet modest design. He ran his fingers along the cool wooden desk and they came into contact with the portfolio he had almost forgotten to look at. It was given to him by his father and contained a bit of the information he needed to help with the case. Blaine opened it and was about to read when the phone on his desk started to ring.

He picked it up and mustered a small "Hello, Blaine Anderson speaking," before being greeted by a voice he recognized as the receptionist's.

"Mr. Anderson, the staff meeting is about to start in room 011."

Blaine thanked her and placed the phone back on the reciever. He sat up and started walking out before rushing back and grabbing the portfolio. There would be some time during the meeting to at least get caught up with the case before it went to trial. Clasping it tightly, he proceeded towards the room. He turned the corner and nearly collided with someone.

"I am so sorry-" Blaine immediately stopped when he realized it was the familiar man he had followed up the elevator.

"It's no problem, I-" The man had finally turned around and when he saw Blaine he took a step back. His eyes, which were now becoming more of a stormy blue, widened and he said stiffened before saying, "Are you following me?"

Blaine looked at him for a second before laughing.

"Following you? No, I, well, this morning I forgot which floor I was supposed to come to for my first day at work," he said easily and flashed what he hoped was a comforting smile. It had the desired effect because the man had stopped glaring at him and was instead reading a sheet of paper he picked up off the floor.

"Good. So you don't know who I am and you aren't looking for me?" he asked inquiringly, fixing Blaine with his piercing eyes.

"No! No, I have no idea who you are. We should...introduce ourselves. My name is Blaine Anderson," he said and stuck his hand out, smiling. The man returned his smile but Blaine noticed it didn't reach his eyes.

"Kurt Hummel," the man said slowly, shaking his hand and watching his face carefully. Blaine froze, unconsciously gripping his hand tightly. Kurt Hummel? Who was this man and why did it feel like they had met before? His hand was warm and Blaine felt an odd shiver run through him.

Kurt wrenched his hand from his grip. "So you'll know why I don't believe you then," he finally said.

Blaine frowned, not understanding this statement. "Believe you...?"

"When you say you don't know me."

"What do you mean?" Blaine replied but stopped when Kurt held up the paper he had been holding. It was a picture of him and listed his personal information. Anderson & Associates was written across the top. Blaine quickly glanced at his portfolio, realizing with a growing sense of dread that it must have opened during their run-in.

"Listen, I don't know how to explain-" he tried to say but Kurt wasn't having it.

"You followed me into the elevator and into my place of work and now I find you have my entire life story and social security number and who knows what else. So forgive me if I don't give you the benefit of doubt when you say you don't know me," Kurt spat, suddenly looking furious.

"I swear I-"

"Stop talking. I know how to deal with you. Security!" Kurt shouted at the top of his lungs and Blaine felt his heart sink. This day was just not getting better was it?

"Kurt, what's going on?" Jacob had rounded the corner and was staring at them both.

"Mr. Bassinger, I'm sorry I'm running late but this bastard has been stalking me all morning," Kurt said, his voice shaking. Bright red spots had formed on his cheeks and he was holding up the paper as proof. Jacob looked at it quickly before giving Blaine an indecipherable look. Blaine stared back at him, willing him to read his mind. But his father must have known what he was doing because a small smile appeared on Jacob's face a few seconds later.

"Kurt, this is Blaine Anderson. He is going to be consulting with you on a new project and I asked him to do a bit of research on you before coming in."

"A bit of research?" Kurt repeated, in disbelief. His eyes darted back and forth between Blaine and Jacob, as if trying to determine who was the bigger fool.

"Yes, I know how this looks Kurt but he was just being very thorough. Anyway, let's go to the meeting, we're all running behind schedule and you know how they get when that happens." Jacob clapped Kurt on the shoulder, smiled at Blaine, and sauntered off ahead of them. Kurt shot him a look of pure dislike before raising his head imperiously and following Jacob's lead. Blaine shook his head and thanked whatever diety was in charge of making sure his life wouldn't completely suck.

As he made his way after Kurt he heard a great din coming from the conference room and sure enough, there were dozens of people sitting down and talking all at once. Kurt had seated himself near Ms. Melon and appeared to be relating what had just happened. Blaine sat down next to a man with oily black hair who turned around in his chair as soon as he saw him.

"Bernard Jackson," he said and smiled without showing his teeth. Blaine smiled back and replied, "Blaine Anderson."

Bernard nodded and seemed to observe him for a moment. He looked pointedly at his attire. "So did you decide to take a dip in the lake?"

"Oh, no, just got stuck in the rain." His clothes weren't wet anymore but Blaine knew his hair would take ages to dry. And when it did it would pouf up like a giant balloon.

"You must not be used to the weather here. It can rain a lot and it's pretty heavy when it does."

"I'm sure it does," Blaine offered, wondering why he was telling him this detail.

Bernard chuckled. "The workload is pretty heavy here as well. Then again, you probably aren't used to that being an Anderson," he drawled. Blaine stared at him and anger rippled through him. What was this guy trying to say? Across the table he saw Kurt watching with a smirk on his face, following the conversation. Another rush of anger hit him and before he could say anything Jacob started to speak.

"Alright, let's get started," he said and the noise died down as he looked at everyone from his seat at the top of the table.

"First, can I introduce one of our new managing consultants, Blaine Anderson. He will be working closely with and advising the marketing team headed by Kurt." Blaine looked around the table and smiled charmingly at everyone. Growing up, he knew that one of his greatest assets was his charisma and it didn't hurt that he had taken after his father with his good looks. Blaine used this to his advantage and his gaze lingered on some of the women. A few of them glanced at him appreciatively. His eyes passed over Kurt who was looking down resolutely.

"I'm sure Kurt and I will work well together," he said slowly and watched as Kurt looked up at him. This time Blaine refused to drop his gaze and Kurt eventually turned away, a faint flush coloring his pale skin. Blaine smiled to himself, feeling like he had won some sort of unspoken challenge.

"Good! Now, let's get to talking about some of the finances then," Jacob exclaimed and launched into a detailed lecture on the finer points of theater consumerism. While he spoke, Blaine looked through the papers in his portfolio discreetly. He was now more curious than ever as to why Kurt's biography was included in the papers his father had given him. Turning the pages as quietly as he could, he passed over them until one of them caught his eye. It was a description of his job at his father's office and it listed his main responsibility in the case: in charge of undermining Kurt Hummel, key witness for the prosecution. Kurt Hummel. Blaine raised his head a little and looked at Kurt, who was paying close attention to whatever Jacob was saying. So that's who he was! Blaine knew only a little about the case but even he was aware that the prosecution had scored a major victory when they found out that one Kurt Hummel was still alive. If Kurt didn't know who Blaine was, that meant that the prosecution hadn't reached him yet or Kurt was doing a very good job hiding that they had. Blaine hoped it was the former reason. It had been a rat race from the very beginning to find him and Blaine knew his father would be delighted to discover that they had gotten their first.

Blaine closed the portfolio carefully and allowed his eyes to glance over Kurt again. Perhaps this day wasn't going to be so terrible after all.