Author's Note: chapter 2 already? I must be high on life… or the desire to write. Be productive with life. Make a difference. Feel like there's more to me right now than work. Whatever the reason, here is chapter 2. Thank you to everyone who left a review – you are brilliant. Seriously, people don't bother taking the time to review these days so I wanna thank you all personally for making my day that much brighter. Hope this next installment is as enjoyable as the first.

Laters!

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Chapter 2: Operation Intel

Early morning rays dote on the alabaster walls of the tony abode, splashing flickers of brightened yellow across the room in straight diagonals. The room feels homely and lived in, throws clutching to the old couch in the center of the room like warm knit jackets. Tiny flickers of dust dance in the morning air, landing on the piles of books that lay scattered around the room in various locations. Groaning under the weight of his body, Lucas tentatively makes his way across the old wooden floorboards of his living room, en route to the kitchen and a fresh pot of coffee. It had been some time since he had lived in the old house on his own, but he still found himself moving around the place in the early hours of the morning as though he had to keep other house members in mind. Old habits die hard, he guessed.

Within ten minutes the uplifting aroma of freshly-brewed coffee infiltrated the air, Lucas pouring himself a cup before making his way to the front door. Clad in boxers and a white, cotton wife-beater, the young blonde partook in his usual morning routine. Wake up. Coffee. Read newspaper on front porch. Only make it through to page six and then…

"Good morning, you sexy bastard!"

Like clockwork.

Jumping out of his drop top without even bothering to open the door, Derek was as lively as a kid suffering a candy sugar rush. Grinning from ear to ear, his perfect pearly-whites bared down on Lucas as he raced up the front path, jumped the steps two at a time and threw himself onto the deck chair across from his friend. How he managed to look perfectly presentable after minimal sleep was beyond Lucas. The guy was a machine. Pulling out the sports section, the blonde tossed the newspaper over to his exuberant buddy and nodded towards his coffee.

"Breakfast?"

"I already ate," came the cheeky reply, Derek sending Lucas a wink to accentuate the point being made.

"Who was she this time?" Lucas feigned interest, although truth be told Derek's ability to land any female that came within a mile of him was impressive to say the least. In fact, he could probably pull twice as many chicks as the man-whores on Jersey Shore.

"The redhead from the party?"

Derek threw his hand in the air, wiping away the comment like it was a bad omen. "Nah! Couldn't get anywhere near her. Shame really, because she was just about the sexiest bitch I've ever seen."

"Not sure she'd appreciate you calling her a bitch, D-"

"Whatever dude," Derek laughed, the way only he could. Arrogant, confident and cocky. "I just be showing her my freaky Akon moves, thrown in a little bit of Drake sing-songs and she'll have me calling her sexy bitch all night long!"

"And yet, you're waking up without her?"

Lucas smiled when he noticed Derek's eyes darkening. His friend hadn't come across a woman he couldn't have in a while. It was somewhat satisfying watching him squirm.

"She was some friend of the hostess," Derek replied, taking a long deep breath and pulling his hand over his face. "Security kept giving me the shake-of-the-head-move every time I tried to get near her. I mean gees; you'd think her pussy was made of gold or something. Fucking cock-blockers!"

Lucas choked on his coffee, silently cursing himself for still not being used to Derek's crass remarks. He'd known him for a couple years after all. Surely he'd be used to it. Alas, he was not and even in the early hours of the morning, Derek had a way with words that somehow managed to make his friend choke on his breakfast beverage. Of course Lucas' reaction caused the wayward waiter to smile.

"Oh by the way, she isn't an interior decorator. She's a fashion designer who's looking at opening select boutiques on the east coast."

"Huh?" Lucas cleared his throat and cleared the black liquid from his chin. He was hardly paying attention, trying desperately to keep his choked coffee from spilling onto his clean shirt.

"The hostess," Derek smiled now, leaning forward and staring intently at his friend. "Brooke Davis."

That got his attention. Lucas flinched at the name, his whole body tensing at the thought of her. He hoped the sudden rise in his body temperature would go unnoticed.

"Oh?" Lucas tried to act disinterested, feeling a warmth spread across his cheeks and silently cursing himself once more. He hated being so obvious on the outside. Clearing his throat, he took a moment to find his voice. "Cool."

"HA!" Derek shouted aloud, causing the writer to jump a bit at the loud sound. Across the road, Mr. Andrews was staring intently at the boys and Lucas couldn't help but roll his eyes and groan. Yet another thing to complain about – noise. Funny how it always came from Derek. His energetic friend didn't even notice. Buzzing from the inside, he leaned back on his chair and refused to lose eye contact with the now heavily-flushed Lucas.

"I fucking knew it!"

"Knew what?"

"You like her." Derek's smile broadened as he said the words, Lucas feeling his cheeks grow hotter by the second. Damn it!

"Just drop it, Derek." Shaking his head, the young writer pulled the newspaper across his face to avoid all contact with his friend. He didn't want to discuss Brooke. He didn't want to discuss their encounter the previous night and he certainly didn't want to have his best friend leering at him like they were in junior high and picking which girl they wanted to go steady with for that week.

Or in Derek's case – that night.

"Don't be such a bitch," Derek chastised him, reaching out and kicking the seat that Lucas sat in. "You wanna know about her or not?"

"Drop it, Derek."

"She's twenty-four, wealthy and obviously from the elite side of the marshes." Derek laughed at his joke, the blonde waiter using that name for the river ever since he had arrived in town. Lucas wasn't entirely sure why he called it that but he gathered it was because people on the affluent side were completely stuck up. Wouldn't want to get stuck on the wrong side, according to him.

"She's a designer, big-seller in New York, Milan and Paris. Broke onto the London scene then got homesick and wanted to return to her native stomping grounds. She's a local gal, no doubt went to that preppy school on the top of Regent's Hill. They do breed fine female specimens up there."

Derek would know. He'd nailed half of them.

"She works with her father, who by all accounts is a shrewd business man and cut throat in the designer world. Spares no expense when it comes to his golden child. She's fluent in French and wants to travel to Australia one day. She notes Christian Dior and Chanel as her idols and aspires to be just like them."

Derek's tone changed to slight mocking on the final sentence, causing Lucas to send him a scowl. He didn't particularly understand the world of fashion but far be it for him to condemn someone for their passion.

"Good for her. I'm sure she'll do really well."

"Gah come on," Derek groaned, his attention deficit kicking in. "I know you like her. I know you had a lovely little chat with her last night and-"

"How on earth do you know about that?" Lucas looked bewildered, certain last night's encounter would be swept under the rug. It was quite obvious that he was in the right place at the right time to offer some sort of comfort but that was as far as it went. They didn't know each other, nor would they ever.

"I may have overheard a conversation between the lovely Miss Davis and the sexy door lady."

"Haley-"

"What?"

"Door lady – her name was Haley." Lucas smiled as he remembered her. She was feisty and he liked that.

"Her name is irrelevant at this point," Derek shrugged, giving Lucas a look. "The fact is whatever you said in that room caused our lovely designer minx to talk to her friend about you. What the hell did you talk about anyway?"

"Nothing of consequence," Lucas replied, trying his best to make out like their meeting wasn't intense at all. Truth was he'd thought about nothing else since he'd arrived home and she was the first thought that flashed across his mind when he woke up that morning. "She just directed me back to where I belonged."

"Whatever dude," Derek threw his hand in the air again, Lucas thankful that he was showing signs of boredom with the conversation. "Since you know her name and all, I thought you could give her this."

Fishing his hand into his pocket, Derek pulled out a crumpled piece of white paper and stuffed it into Lucas' hand. Pulling it open, the writer sighed when he read what was on it.

"I'm not giving her the bill, Derek."

"Uh, yes bitch, you are." Sliding back into his deck chair, Derek pulled his sunglasses back over his eyes and pretended the conversation was over.

"Uh no, you moron, I'm not."

"Actually, you are." Derek still didn't look at him and this only served to make Lucas even more agitated. There was no point getting worked up though, Derek wouldn't have cared in the slightest. "You're going because the bosses are out of town on some conference for better catering services or some shit and apparently I'm not trustworthy enough to handle this side of things, which makes no sense to me because it's not like I can fuck the damn invoice…"

"They don't trust you?"

"Dude, I don't fucking trust me!"

"So who do you have to fuck to be trusted?" Lucas threw out the taunt, already dreading his meeting with Miss Davis.

"You, you sexy mother fucker!" Derek grinned then, a large, toothy display.

"Derek!"

"Lucas?"

"I'm not taking it."

"Then I won't get paid and you know I need it. Do your brother a solid, okay?"

"Why are you making me do this?" Lucas groaned slightly, knowing that when Derek had his mind set on something there was little anybody could do to sway him. He leaned back in his chair, blue eyes looking up at the arrogant bastard who always seemed to get his way. "Seriously, why?"

"Seriously, because you need to get laid."

"She's engaged, you prick."

"Never stopped me before."

"I'm not you." Lucas looked down at the paper, agonizing over the position he'd been put in.

"My god man, it's not like I'm asking you to go over there, get down on one knee and declare your undying love for the woman!" He sent Lucas a disgusted look, shaking his head at the same time. "Just go over there and drop off the invoice. That's it."

"Why?" Lucas asked the question again, although the tone in his voice resonated with defeat. Derek registered this and leaned back in his chair, a small smile coming to his lips.

"Because sometimes we just gotta go after the things that we want - even if they belong to someone else!"

And with that the conversation was over.

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Lucas Eugene Scott

DOB: - Oct. 30, 1988, Tree Hill NC

Address: - 1829 Barnette Drive,

-Tree Hill, North Carolina 01982

Mobile No: - 910-019-301

Social Security No:- 987-876-4630

Banking Details:- Bank of America, Tree Hill, NC, 01982

- Acct No: 302981: $832.45 balance

Occupation: - Server for Garrison's Catering

- Aspiring Author

College Attended:- John Hopkins University

-– English Major

GPA: - 4.0

Prior Education: -Tree Hill JR-SR High School

SAT Score: - 2250

Employment: - Garrison's Catering

- Fairview Drive, Tree Hill, NC

-(part-time)

Father: - Daniel Robert Scott

- DOB: June 24, 1960, Tree Hill NC

Mother: - Karen Roe

- DOB : Sept. 17, 1960, Tree Hill, NC.

- m Andy Hargrove, March 1 2011

Political Afflictions:- None Found

Religious Affiliations: -None Found

Sexual Orientation:- Unknown

Relationships:- None indicated at present

Emerald orbs danced over the information for the hundredth time that morning. Biting down on her own cherry-glossed bottom lip, Brooke Davis scoured the personal file in a vain attempt to shed fresh insight on the boy that had grabbed her attention two days prior. Why could she not get this boy out of her mind? She had never had such a problem before and the thought unsettled her. Staring down at the diamond bling that wrapped around her wedding finger, Brooke sighed deeply and stared back at the file once more. She brought her right hand upwards and placed it atop her mouth, fingertips dancing in a slow thump as she fell away into deep thought.

Lucas Eugene Scott. Who the hell are you?

"Lucas Eugene Scott?"

"Whoa!" Gasping at the sudden intrusion, Brooke jumped on her chair and slammed her MacBook shut. Chocolate orbs stared down at her inquisitively, a slight frown coming to her intruder's lips as she leaned against the side of the desk to her left. "You scared me half-to-death, Hales!"

"Why are you researching Lucas Scott?" Haley demanded again, this time her eyes more chastising than curious. Crap. Brookes mind whirled with excuses, the brunette fashionista landing on one that seemed to work every time her father asked why she was meeting with certain people.

"Business associate. Possible mens-line merger?"

"Cut the crap, Davis," Haley replied sternly, moving to the other side of her friend's desk and taking a seat. Double crap – this was going to be a long interrogation then. "I met Lucas on the door the other night. He was headed towards the server's quarters…"

This was the one side to Haley that Brooke both loved and despised. The perennial smart-girl, not much got past the young Miss James. Since their early days at Regent Hill they had been thick as thieves. Brooke was outgoing and popular, Haley shy and an introvert. They honestly brought out the best in each other which was why Brooke had hired Haley to be her personal assistant the minute her father had given the go-ahead for her fashion label. There was no-one she trusted more in the entire world.

But right now, Brooke didn't need her honesty. She needed her to shut up and pretend she didn't see what she just saw.

"Brooke-"

"Can we just chalk it up to curiosity?" A breathy sigh fell from her luscious lips and Brooke puckered them in a small pout. She battered her lashes, a look Haley knew well.

"Is it just curiosity?" Haley stared intently at Brooke, trying to gauge her reaction. The brunette knew the stare-down well. She always buckled under the weight of it. "You've had him investigated for heaven's sake!"

"For now," Brooke breathed, closing her eyes slightly at the thought of him and what the hell she was doing. She could still see those eyes staring at her, their intensity threatening to burn a hole in her subconscious. Not to mention the way his lips curled up in a crooked smile when he attempted to make her laugh. Her cheeks flushed pink then, Haley gasping the minute she saw it.

"Brooke, listen to me." Carefully leaning over the mahogany desk, the sweet girl opened her eyes widely so that her friend could see her intent as clear as the bright blue sky that enveloped their office. "This is a dangerous game you are playing. You're engaged. You've ben with Julian for three years. You cannot throw this away on some boy you met at party…"

"Oh my god Haley, I'm not throwing anything away," Brooke stood to her feet, the wine-red Monolos throwing her higher into the air. "I was curious. He was nice for no other reason than to be nice. Do you know how long it has been since I have met someone who hasn't been nice to me just because they want something from me?"

"As long as that's all there is," Haley replied, standing to her feet and walking closer to her friend. "Because I would hate to see you lose everything you've worked so hard for over a stranger. Your life is perfect – just be happy with it!"

Brooke smiled softly, her friend's words hitting her with genuine concern and feeling. Of course Haley was trying to look out for her. She had been that way from day one. It was one of the many reasons why Brooke loved her.

"I am happy," the brunette fashion queen smiled, bring her friend in for a brief hug and smiling. "It's just that he was kind and I wanted to say thank you… and you know what I'm like when I get curious. I need to know everything."

"Because you're a control freak," Haley teased, ducking quickly as a small, balled fist headed in her direction. They both laughed then, both girls knowing the statement was true.

"Don't worry, this won't go any further than curiosity. Besides, I will never see Lucas Scott again so there's really no need for your concern, even though I love you for it!"

"Well alright then," Haley relented, throwing her hands in the air to signal her retreat. She shook her head as she stepped backwards, scrunching up her nose before disappearing outside the office door. Brooke sighed and slipped back into her leather chair, biting her lower lip again before opening her MacBook once more. His name stared at her, his details splashed across her screen like some file from the Pentagon.

Lucas Eugene Scott.

"Enough," she whispered to herself and scrolled her cursor to the open file. What was the point? Haley was right. She had too much to lose. Everything she had worked so hard for could be affected by her curiosity. What was she thinking? It was time to delete all traces of Lucas Eugene Scott from her life.

It was not like she'd ever see him again.

She moved the cursor to the little x on the top right corner and took a long, deep breath, saying her final goodbyes. Just as she was about to hit the button her intercom burst with static, Haley's voice echoing throughout the fashionista's office with a tone of absolute disbelief and concern.

"Miss Davis, there's a Lucas Scott here to see you."

It was not like she'd ever see him again.

Unless of course, he was standing in the foyer of her office building.

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I know, fast update. You know the drill – read and PLEASE review.