Chapter 2

She liked it when she was the only one left in the office. Occasional murmuring would bother her, yet even when people weren't chattering incessantly, she still felt their presence like a physical intrusion in her privacy. It was only when no one else was around that she could better hear thoughts in her head. These days, she held more monologues in her head than she had ever dialogues with people. She didn't wish to comprehend what that might mean.

The harsh interruption of the phone pierced the air, breaking her reverie. Ah, well. Perhaps silence was just too much to ask in this world. She reached for it, wondering who would be calling after office hours. Hopefully, it wouldn't be the person she was dreading. "MCU Medical Research Laboratory."

"Hi. May I speak to Juliet Burke?"

The voice was low, but unfamiliar. She felt her muscles relax. "Speaking."

"Hey, I don't know if you remember, but we met." There was a pause. "It's Sawyer."

She leaned back, tilted her head back at the ceiling as she tried to jog her memory. Right. He was that guy with the dimples, the Southern one. With the recollection also came the cockiness that had struck her, that and the self-assured attitude that she'd not taken to. "Um, yeah. It's, uh…Sawyer Ford, right?"

"Yeah." She heard his smile through the phone. Then she wondered why he was calling. Just as she opened her mouth to fill the silence, he said, "Got a couple of things for you from Mary-Sue. It's important. She had to leave this mornin' and told me to tell you sorry for not being able to say bye."

"Oh, uh…" She tucked an arm around her waist. "Yeah, I didn't expect her to leave today. I'll call her. Thank you." She picked up the silver pen lying by the computer mouse and twirled it around, trying to organize her thoughts. She hated speaking on the phone. Every second she took to think sounded too long and too awkward on the line. "I can meet you sometime this weekend, if you're available."

"Sounds perfect. Saturday at six?"

She mentally ran through her schedule. She had marked it down to get some work done at the office before staying over at her sister's that night. "Uh, I have an appointment then. Is one good?"

He gave her the name of a little café that she knew all too well, situated right next to an all-night bakery that sold the little mouth-watering pastries.

It must have been a coincidence, she thought. The universe was funny like that, playing tricks on you.

She wondered how it must feel like to play God, to look down from the great big unknown and create these links of connections between people, spreading across time and distance. From space it must look like a gigantic spider-web wrapped around the earth. It reminded her of the mind, which she often liked thinking of it as s web reaching across the compartments in the brain. Every thought intertwining, connected to each other, overlapping. Nothing was ever by itself.

Not exactly scientific, but well.

She inhaled lightly, feeling the chilled air on her tongue as her flow of thoughts took a little detour to the pretty water droplets caught on the fine silken strands woven on the top of the small bushes growing by the path she took to work. The morning dew would glisten in the misty light of dawn.

The clock on the wall ticked on late into the night as she submerged once more into her mind's world where she was the only inhabitant.

Saturday awoke with a late start as the sun struggled to sift its way through the massive grey clouds. The morning had already retreated in defeat, leaving the afternoon the duty of saving the day. One ray bravely broke through the heavy shields, lighting up on a golden-headed couple seated by a window booth.

"Here." He handed over a clear folder filled with assorted documents. "She said everythin' you needed to know would be in there."

"Thank you," she said. "It's really nice of you to do this."

He saw his opportunity. "Can I get you somethin'? A coffee, maybe?" She tried to protest, but he held up a hand, stopping her words. "I ain't a rich boy, but I can afford a cup. I was planning to get one anyway…" He cocked his head. "Unless you're in a hurry, then we'll get the coffee another time."

She relented, and once he had gotten their beverages, he said, "We never really got past the basic introductions, did we? You know I'm Sawyer, and I do business. You're Juliet, and you're a research scientist." He grinned when she did. "So what do you do in your free time, Ms. Research Scientist?"

She gave a half-smile, then bit her lip, as if considering whether or not to reveal a thought. After a moment, she offered, "I like to read."

"Me too."

"You do?" Her tone was questioning.

He didn't have to fake his indignation on this one. "Trust me. I read." He raised his brows. "A lot."

They discussed books of different genres, authors, and plots, and he thought that perhaps he had finally hit jackpot when suddenly, she came up with a question that took him by surprise.

"I'm curious. Did your parents name you Sawyer after Mark Twain's novel?"

His mind went blank, and he felt the air getting sucked out of his lungs. "I don't know. I never asked," he managed to get out.

Way to place a conversational stopper right there.

He used the few moments of silence to gather his thoughts, mentally rebuking himself for the split second his mind had failed him. He had tried to train himself for such questions, but they always appeared like potholes on a highway. You never really know when to expect them. When he turned back to her, he had on a smile that didn't reach his eyes as he focused the spotlight onto her. "I hear you're head over heels with your work," he said, tempted to throw in one of his terms of endearment that didn't mean anything to him, but at the last minute, refrained. It wouldn't flatter her, it might do just the opposite. "I ain't kiddin. It's how I heard you bein' described."

She let out a self-conscious laugh, her eyes flickering up to meet his.

Well, that was better than silence. He gave a lopsided grin. "How does your husband feel about this?"

He didn't notice how her knuckles had whitened, didn't think anything of it when she bowed her head, but when she spoke, he realized he must have said something wrong.

"Uh…" Her voice was low and so faint that he had to strain to hear her. "He appreciates my work." When she lifted her head up, he saw past her effort in pasting a believable smile on her face.

Later, though she'd gradually relaxed and conversed with him about mundane issues, the stiffness never quite left.

Once at home, he'd thrown his keys on the little shoe cupboard by the door, went straight to the refrigerator, and pulled out a can of beer. Dropping into a chair, he propped his leg on its wooden partner and flipped the metal tab. As it gave way with an ear-satisfying fizz, he placed it to his lips and took a long, much-needed drink.

He had brought up the wrong topic. So much for thinking he could have covered a significant amount of ground today. On the bright side, he now had a clearer view on her relationship with her husband. He set the can down on the rectangular table, lost in thought. How could one with such a grasp on intelligence and in possession of more grey matter than most people be lacking in so much confidence? He just couldn't grasp it. Her outward appearance was not off-putting. Of course, her taste in clothing could be improved on. He scrunched up his face, thinking of the lacy blouse that she'd worn. Maybe fashion was all subjective, but if he had his way, she would have an entirely different wardrobe. Taking another couple of gulps from the can, he redirected his train of thoughts before they went in the direction of the gutter.

He ought to be more careful from this time onwards. If she had managed to read him during his slip-up the way he had managed read her today…

He shook his head, not wishing to consider what it might have resulted in. Trust was absolutely crucial if he needed to proceed with his plan. However, if he ever did happen to blank out again like he did today, all he'd to do was to turn the attention back onto her. It was easy to see that she wasn't comfortable with the focus on her. When one was flustered, the mind would not process details as clearly as it usually would. It might just save his skin.

He finished up the rest of his beer, savouring the bitterness that would always be more appealing to him than coffee. He wanted the money, but at the same time, he was intrigued by the woman. He wanted to know how to break into that little private space without her responding by curling up like a snail in its shell like she did today. At least he'd seen the first flicker of interest, which was a good sign. His love for reading was that little nugget of information, a key that unlocked the door that he'd been banging on for a while now. He just needed to find these tidbits to reel her in. He had to find a way to get her to let down her defenses.

He aimed the empty can at the trash bin. It flew in with a hollow clunk.

Score.

She wrapped her rain jacket tighter around her body as though it could keep the cold from seeping through. Winter was certainly approaching, one could tell by the nights, and why was her sister not getting the door? The earth would get sucked into a black hole by the time she opened it.

"Juliet!"

"Rachel, hi." She returned the greeting, quickly stepping into the apartment.

It was small, but cozy, coated in a pale yellow that was altogether cheery but not overwhelmingly perky. A purple couch sat on the side, facing a little black flat screen television. Curtains framed the windows, showing off the nightlife of Miami. The heater was on, she noted thankfully as she shrugged off her jacket.

"Cold out there, huh," Rachel grinned as she grabbed her sister's jacket and tossed it on the back of the couch.

Juliet had to smile, her earlier irritation melting like snow in the sun. She couldn't be mad at her elder sister, especially when today seemed like a good day for her. That bright sunshine mood was few and far between these days. Rachel did look particularly in the pink of health. The paleness had subsided a bit, and her eyes had a sparkle in them.

"Something good happen today?" She asked after giving Rachel a long hug. "You're all smiley."

"No," she lifted her brows. "Just my little sister coming to visit."

"I'm 33, Rach, hardly little anymore."

"You know you'll always be the littlest, Jules."

"Well, I've told you you can't protect me forever," she said over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen.

Rachel followed her in, and Juliet was thankful when she didn't add to her statement.

"Tea?" She offered, then saw the kettle already on the stove with the steam rising from its spout. "Oh, you were already planning for some."

"Yes," Rachel leaned against the side of the kitchen table. "You always have tea whenever you come over." She smiled, eyes following her sister as she pulled a tea canister from the top cupboard. "And you always get the same tea though I have many," she gestured for emphasis. "Other options for you to choose from."

Juliet laughed. "How did you get to know me so well? You could actually pass off as my sister," she joked as she held the opened tea tin to her nose and inhaled the fragrant scent of dried peach deeply. "If I could smell this all day…"

"I thought I just gave you a tin just last month."

"Finished it. Probably because I brought it to work too. I might've had a cup everyday…or more."

"Such a tea-drinker," Rachel said fondly. "How's life treating my little sis?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," Juliet busied herself pouring the boiling water into two ceramic cups, careful to keep her fingers from the splatters of hot droplets. She felt her sister's eyes boring into her back and turned around to meet her gaze. "Really."

"You know, I've always had such a hard time getting you to open up or share anything. It always feels like I need a crowbar to pry you open."

"Very funny," she turned her attention back to the tea, reaching for the tiny honey pot. "I tell you things. You're the only one I really talk to. Honey?"

"Only because I spend all that time and effort making you talk to me, and no, thank you."

"That's nothing wrong with that." She placed the honey back where it was, and handed one cup to Rachel. "I'm not that kind of person who lets things build up and then goes crazy one day. There's no one last straw that will break this camel's back. I just…"

"You just let things go on the way they are."

She sighed, letting her blond hair fall forward to hide her face. She really didn't want to talk about that. Her blue eyes sent a plea to her sister. "Let's not do this today, Rach. I just want to enjoy my weekend with you."

It took a second, but Rachel finally broke into a relenting smile.

In the living room, she sat on the floor, back supported by the couch that her sister laid on. The noises of the night traffic were muffled through the walls while a commentary on a nature show played on the television. She watched with mild interest as a tawny lioness stalked a gazelle through the tall grass.

"You hungry? I have leftover pasta in the fridge."

She didn't feel compelled to move. "No. I had a sub a while ago when I dropped by the office."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. Maybe later."

"'kay. Let me know."

After a moment of silence, she heard Rachel shifting positions. "Who is this Sawyer guy you said you were meeting again?"

"Friend of a friend." She finally moved from her catatonic state, twisting her head around to talk to her sister. "I thought I told you about him. Why?"

"Just curious. I haven't heard you mention anyone new in a while." Rachel teased. "Especially not a guy."

She shook her head, settling back into her original position. "Rachel…no."

"Hey, you never know when the ideal guy might walk into your life." Rachel took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "So…what's he like?"

"He was nice. Very southern." She leaned her head back, resting it against the soft cushioned edge, and closed her eyes. "Blond hair, tall…dimples." Her lips curled upwards. "He likes books."

"Mmm."

"He was kind of cocky the first time I met him. I thought he was full of himself."

"Get to know him. People aren't always what they seem to be."

She didn't know if she ever agreed. She murmured something as the dreamy greyness enfolded her until she was drifting off into blissful unconsciousness.