The fallen leaves tumbled around the pavement making scratching noises, like nature's own warning sirens before a gust blew her hair on her face. Stephanie faced the wind, letting it rake through her strands and raised her eyes to the top of the Empire Tower. She wondered if someone had occupied her old office. She bet it had been that two faced Patrick, always wearing something green to remind everyone that seven generations ago there had been someone Irish in his family, probably thinking that would create a bond with her father. It wasn't like half the city's population didn't have the same in common. The poor soul didn't realise that the only way to impress Vince McMahon was being able to make money. But that was her past, a door that she had closed and as the wind ceased she turned around to face her future.

The five storey building stood in front of her, timeless, the stone had been cleaned bringing out the white it would have worn the day of it's opening more than a century ago. Stephanie reached for the business card she'd been studying for a week, since Alice had given it to her. "Just call him, there is nothing to lose" and Stephanie had made sure she didn't lose it, this was the first opportunity she had ever had to step into a new life. A life that hadn't been planned since she was twelve and her dad had asked her what would she like to do when she grew up. She hadn't doubted, there hadn't been a question in her mind. A huge smile spread across her father's face, she'd never seen him so happy, so proud of her. The rest of her life had been dedicated to seeing that same expression again, but she had lost the ability long ago.

Paul Levesque, PI

Typed in Times New Roman, in the centre of the card, in black. She had looked at it so many times trying to figure him out. Had it been the result of a careful design or could he just not be bothered changing the predefined settings of the word document? On the back of the card, in the middle, just like his name, was a telephone number. She'd had no need to look at the card when she pressed the numbers on her phone last night, they were engrained in her memory. With every ring her heart had beaten faster, she paced around her bedroom, her feet setting a path in the soft carpet from the window to the door. She didn't know what to expect, probably anything but the voice that answer at the other end.
"Levesque".
His voice was low, deep, like the fourth string of a bass. She opened the window and stood in front of it when the short conversation ended. Her hand traced the string of her nightdress and the plunging neckline over her cleavage. A breeze of cold air came into the room cooling her skin. She bit her bottom lip, there were places it wasn't reaching, places still burning for that voice. Every time she closed her eyes she could feel him behind her, one arm around her stomach holding her close to him, trapped between his chest and the oak office desk. Stephanie's hand reached behind her neck and pulled her hair over her shoulder, mirroring the actions of his hand. His chin rested on the exposed skin and she tilted her head backwards slightly, she could feel the warmth of his mouth on her ear as he whispered.

Stephanie felt the heat rush to her cheeks at the memory, she dipped her head, her eyes concentrating on the irregular pattern the wear and tear had left in the concrete, anything to take him out of her head. She tried to shake the thought of him but she couldn't push him away, the image she had made of him playing back on her mind. He stood in front of her wearing a black suit and shirt. His tousled hair the colour of dark chocolate, square jaw, straight nose and dark, deep eyes, matching his voice. Like Richard Hammer had always looked for her. An urge to find out how much was real rushed through her. Straightening herself she ran a hand over her blouse and skirt before crossing the road.

The modern furniture contrasted against the period features, a grand marble staircase stood in front of her as a centre piece, a row of old fashioned elevators on the mezzanine. Her heels clacked against the mosaic floor as she made her way to the reception area, the wall was covered by names of businesses on brass plaques forming a huge information board. Her eyes travelled over each one, there was a gym and spa on the ground floor, a large number of accounting firms, lawyers, psychologists, doctors... But no private detectives. The feeling of uncertainty she had tried to avoid the whole day started to creep out, she took a step backwards. Her eyes continued to examine the gold coloured signs, her fingers fidgeting to the rhythm of her heart. If this was all a prank she was going to kill Alice, she read the Spa sign again and drew her eyebrows together. It couldn't be, could it? Alice wouldn't have made up a career changing opportunity for an outing to the Spa. Although back in college she had once made Stephanie rush over to her house in the middle of the night because she had forgotten to turn the oven off, only for Stephanie to find a plumber on the kitchen table gyrating to the repetitive beat of dance music blaring from a tinny stereo. It was their last day of college and her friend had decided that a male stripper was the perfect way to celebrate their last night before facing the responsibilities of adulthood.

Stephanie was already planning how she could get away with murder when her eyes spotted a small plate, her eyes widening at the discovery, the dark paint of the letters was long gone, but she could still read the name; LEVESQUE. He must definitely be a man of few words.

She was going to make her way to his office when she felt someone was watching her. Four youthful eyes were staring at her. Stephanie made her way to the reception desk to her right, she wanted to dispel any doubt she had left.

"I'm looking for Paul Levesque?"

The girls exchanged a knowing look and a little giggle.

"The private detective?" At least now she was sure Alice hadn't made him up, Stephanie felt horrible for all the things she had called her during her moments of disbelief. She was developing trust issues, her friend had been nothing but loyal and supportive, she owed her an apology.

"Yes. Is he the same Levesque as the one in 221a?"

They nodded between giggles. Stephanie squinted at the girls, they seemed to go into a fit of laughter every time she said his name, but she didn't have time to find out why.

The laughter and chatter faded as she made her way up the staircase. She clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking, she couldn't remember being this nervous since the eighth grade school play. It was ridiculous. She looked at her reflection in the elevator mirror and fixed her hair, her hands fiddling with the shirt buttons, she closed one, then opened it again. Relax. Closing her eyes, she stretched her arms in front of her, palms facing the mirror and took a deep calming breath, then another one. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to give herself a shake and tell herself to get a grip, she was being insane, but she couldn't help herself. The doors opened, a woman stood at the other side fixing her hair, the deep red dress she was wearing showing wrinkles that didn't match her style. The big smile on her face was almost contagious, but Stephanie already had one of her own. Her heart hammered inside her chest, her feet took her to his office as if they had always known the way. She stood in front of the office door, her hand hovering over the handle, just like opening a new book she told herself.

She turned the first page.