Chapter Two: Not Something I'm Going to Get Used To

Author's note: Thanks for the reviewing, and I hope that after this update you all still have faith in me... Enjoy! Thanks for reviewing!

One Year Previously

Kate Austen sat on a park bench, her legs tucked up to her chest. Her gaze caught between a group of school children playing on a jungle gym, a dog being walked by a couple, and a flock of birds hunting the grassy lawn for bread crumbs.

She was beginning to get used to spending her mornings like this, having so little else to do. Not wanting to spend time in her crummy apartment, not having a job to go to until her one at the seedy bar, where she worked in the evenings. Not having any new friends in this new city, not having any connections with her old ones.

Kate had never imagined that her mother would react so violently to her vocalization of her feelings for her stepfather, had never imagined that her mother would chose her husband over her daughter and subsequently kick her daughter out of her house. Kate had never imagined that she'd have to leave her peaceful country existence to a harsh, new one in LA, where she lived in all but destitution.

"Hello."

Kate looked up sharply when a man sat down next to her. He was older than her. She found herself edging away from him, and wondered if she could walk over to the playground, surrounded by other people, and stay there until he left.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," he said reassuringly. "I just want to talk."

"Why?" she asked, looking up, intrigued.

"I've been noticing you. It hasn't been easy for you here, has it?" he asked. She reluctantly shook her head.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said.

"Oh, you don't have to. That's your business. But I wanted to let you know that if you want any help, I'm sure I can lend a hand," he said kindly. She looked suspiciously at him.

"What kind of help?"

"It's a bit hard to explain. Why don't you come down to my office next week and we can talk about it?" he suggested, handing her a business card. She read his name, Anthony Cooper, and noted that he worked in an office building downtown.

"Okay," she said, shrugging. He stood abruptly, smiling to her once more.

"What's your name?" he asked casually. She reflected that it was the first time anyone had cared to ask since she'd arrived in LA.

"Maggie Ryan," she lied. He smiled.

"I'll be seeing you, Maggie Ryan."

A week later Kate sat at the desk of the stranger, Anthony Cooper, looking doubtfully at the document he'd presented her with.

"This is talking about prostitution. You want me to be a hooker," she said in disgust. Cooper sat across from her.

"No, that's not it at all, Maggie. I don't want you to linger on street corners. Sometimes men need a date, but don't want her to be cheap looking, they want a beautiful girl they can take anywhere. A companion," he said.

"An escort," she corrected him coldly.

"You misunderstand me, Maggie. This isn't about sex. This just says that I'll take care of you, get you an apartment, get you back on your feet. All I ask in exchange is that you work for me. Go on a few dates with a few nice young men. It would be easy for you," he said. She nodded.

"That's all?" she asked nervously. He nodded reassuringly and passed her a pen.

Hurriedly she signed, not giving herself the chance to reconsider.

Two weeks later, Kate found herself feeling completely out of place.

The evening had started out better than she'd thought it would – her date was handsomer than she thought someone who hired dates would be, and he'd treated her kindly, not so much as mentioning their arrangement.

It had been going well until they'd arrived at their destination, a dinner at his boss' house. There she was plied with questions about the state of their relationships and she told a long string of convincing lies, hoping they fit in with whatever story they'd been told. Dressed in a black cocktail dress, she hoped she passed as the girlfriend of a successful businessman.

Halfway through the evening she found herself looking into the eyes of another well dressed, blonde man. Self consciously, she wondered if he'd been looking at her all evening.

In between courses, she stood and excused herself to go to the bathroom. After the hostess began to explain where it was in the big, rambling house, the blonde man stood up to escort her. Reluctantly she took his arm.

He led her up the stairs and to a closed wooden door.

Kate excused herself to go inside, and frowned in irritation when he followed her in.

"Excuse me?" she prompted him. He smirked.

"Come on, freckles. Like you really need to go," he teased.

"What?"

He regarded her for a moment.

"You're good. You almost had me fooled for a second," he said. He spoke in a smooth Southern accent.

"What do you mean?" she asked in irritation.

"You're not a common whore, are you now? You're a bit too good for that. Who do you work for?" he asked.

She deflated slightly, realizing she'd been caught.

"Anthony Cooper."

The man smiled. "Ah. Makes sense, they say Cooper only offers the best."

Horrified by his discovery of her secret, she failed to notice that he was flirting with her.

"Don't tell," she begged.

"I won't. Girl, what do you think I'm doing here?" She smiled. "I'm Sawyer."

"Kate."

He reached into his wallet and pulled out a crumpled business card, advertising himself as Larry Thatcher, a seller of windows and doors. She raised her eyebrows.

"Name's fake. Number's real. Call me if you want to talk to someone from your world," he said, patting her arm consolingly and leading her from the bathroom.

Kate jerked out of her daydream when Anthony spoke to her again.

"He's a good catch, Maggie. Jack Shephard, thirty-six. Spinal surgeon. You sure do know how to pick 'em."

"I didn't pick him. He was just talking to me."

"I'm suggesting you do pick him, Meg."

Kate frowned.

"No. He didn't hire me. I'll never see him again."

Cooper frowned and rummaged in his briefcase before revealing a document from it.

"Not like that," he said, smiling at the thought. "I'm thinking we can get a great deal more out of this one."

"What do you mean?" she asked shakily.

"He's not the kind of man that would hire you, but I think he's a man who would want a lot more out of you," he explained.

"You want me to con him," she said flatly.

"Exactly."

"I won't."

Kate turned her back on him and walked toward her kitchen.

"Maggie..." Cooper's patient voice followed her. "You know I don't like it when I have to do this. But it's for your own good."

"What is?"

"This is one might suspicious document. Now, Anthony Cooper doesn't even exist. But it seems like this Margaret Ryan does," he said. Kate frowned. Maggie Ryan did not, in fact, exist, but she hadn't hidden her tracks well enough to shed her completely. "It sounds like a shifty sort of business arrangement, don't you think? I'm sure I could find some people who'd agree with me. Your mother, for instance."

Kate scowled as he took an appreciate glance around his surroundings.

"Nice digs you've got. You like living like this?" he asked. She ignored his question.

"Fine. I'll do it."

Anthony smiled, his threatening demeanor instantly vanished.

"I knew you would. Don't worry, I won't hire you out until you're done with this one. We wouldn't want him getting suspicious now, would we?"

Kate watched him go, dread building in the pit of her stomach. She thought of the kind eyes of the man she'd just met, and thought of how deeply she wished she'd never met him.