Carefully maneuvering my blue Hyundai Genesis, I backed into an empty parking space furthest from the building and turned off the ignition. I had a perfect view of the front door of Dr. Bennett’s office from where I was situated.

And I had a plan.

Every great writer knew the key to a well written piece was research, which often translated into long hours spent online. With the computer issues I had suffered this morning, I made the decision to skip the machine and conduct my research on a more personal level. I was certain a little surveillance would shed some light on how to approach the doctor with the utmost caution.

The first thing I did was search for his private practice using the map application on my cell phone. Once the results popped up, I saved it as one of my favorites and called the number, thinking of a plan while it rang. It had been my experience that doctors who kept regular business hours usually ate lunch around the same time every day. I was banking Dr. Bennett was the same way.

When the receptionist, whose name turned out to be Gloria, answered I pretended to be Dr. Bennett’s lunch date and explained I had forgotten where I was supposed to meet him. My goal was to verify he was at least in his building. 

It worked like a charm. When Gloria asked if I would hold so she could check with him I hung up and grabbed my car keys. I figured I would drive to his office and wait until he exited the building for lunch. When he did, I would follow him and make up the rest of my strategy from there. If he didn’t exit the building I would have to improvise.

I never said it was a great plan.

I leaned over the middle console and dug into the workout bag I kept in the back seat of the car. There was a small gym on the first floor of the Polish office building I occasionally liked to use. It came in super handy when I suffered from writer’s block and needed to get the juices flowing. Little did I know it was also going to come in handy with my impromptu stakeout.

Pulling out a black baseball cap, I twisted my hair into it so very little of it showed. Along with my oversized sunglasses, which hid a majority of my face, I was feeling pretty secure. Should anyone notice me sitting in the car, they wouldn’t be able to discern any of my distinctive features.

Not more than five minutes passed when the glass doors at the front of the building opened. A curvy blonde in blue scrubs stepped out followed by a tall, dark-haired man. He was wearing dress pants the same color as his hair with a light blue dress shirt and had a pair of aviator sunglasses pulled over his eyes.

I squinted, trying to pick up more details from where I sat, but he turned and guided the woman down the sidewalk away from where I was parked. They reached the corner, crossed at the intersection and entered a small café on the other side.

It wasn’t until the doorway swallowed them that the fuzz cleared from my brain. That man was Dr. Kean Bennett. The hot topic of my career. I almost didn’t recognize him with his clothes on. 

I chewed on the thumbnail of my right hand while I formed a new strategy.

I was going to have to get closer if I really wanted to learn more about him. Sadly, that thought alone made me jittery.

“Ciaran, suck it up and deal. You can do this,” I whispered, hoping to increase my self-confidence as I wiped my sweaty palms on my pencil skirt.

This turn of events led to another problem. I couldn’t walk into the café sporting a baseball cap, sunglasses, and my work clothes. The mismatched outfit would scream for attention. If I was going to get closer I needed to change into something more causal that would blend. Something more bland.

I reached back into my workout bag and pulled out the rest of my workout clothes, deciding I would make them work. I clumsily changed in the car, re-tucked my hair under the cap and replaced the sunglasses. A quick glance at my reflection in the car window reassured me I was nondescript enough.

I headed across the street.

The café was charming inside. Round tables covered by red checkered tablecloths were arranged in the middle of the floor while a handful of booths were lined up in front of huge windows. I would have liked the intimate environment right away had I not been distracted by my sleuthing mission.

Standing just inside the doorway, I examined the crowded tables until I found the pair I was looking for. They were sitting at one of the booths in front of the windows.

My pulse leaped into a sprint. Now that I was closer, a quick glance at the man confirmed he was most definitely Dr. Bennett.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Can I help you?” A tiny woman was leaning against the counter as she looked at me expectantly.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t sure what I wanted yet,” I explained as I speed-walked in her direction.

“Have you made your decision? I can make some suggestions if you like?”

“Thank you, but I think I’m ready now. I’ll have the tuna on croissant and a diet cola please.”

The worker smiled as she totaled what I ordered on the register while another employee behind the counter prepared my food. When he was finished, he passed the small red basket with my sandwich and a paper cup containing my soda over the counter to me.

After thanking the employees, I beelined for the open booth directly behind where Dr. Bennett and the blonde were eating. Keeping my chin pressed to my chest, I eased into the upholstered bench so that I faced the back of the blonde and Dr. Bennett directly.

I was grateful he paid no attention to my movements. He was too engrossed in what his lunch partner was saying. It gave me a minute to admire some of the details of his masculine face that I had missed earlier.

The pictures I had seen online didn’t do him an ounce of justice. Bathed in the sunlight from the windows his eyes were a stunning green. They sat above a prominent nose that had a slight crook at the top, as if it had been broken at one time in his past. Aware of his rumored temper, I almost expected it. However, considering he was a plastic surgeon who corrected imperfections, I was somewhat surprised it hadn’t been professionally fixed. But I liked how it added a ruggedness to his face.

I coasted over the shadow underneath the tanned skin at his jaw and locked onto his mouth where I became entranced. His sensual lips were pulled to the side in a mischievous, yet utterly sexy, look that I badly wanted to understand. He was either amused by what the woman across from him was saying or totally bored and only pretending to humor her with his attention.

I quickly decided he was only feigning his interest in her because it oddly made me feel calmer.

I poked a hole in the top of my croissant as the blonde burst out laughing. “I’m serious, Kean. Her lips are going to explode. A little girl saw her in the waiting room last week and started crying. The poor child was terrified.”

“All that matters are her method of payments. As long as we are compensated, I don’t care who she scares the shit out of.” 

My head shot up. I was unprepared for how cold Dr. Bennett sounded. I was eyeing him in disbelief when someone seated behind me sneezed loudly. From across two tables, a pair of serious green eyes shot in my direction. For a second, I forgot how to breathe as I stiffened underneath the intensity of his glare. It wasn’t until I remembered I was hidden by dark sunglasses that I maneuvered behind his lunch partner’s frame to hide from his line of sight. 

I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I wasn’t sure what had just happened but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Nowhere in my plan did it say get noticed by the subject.

“Kean, are you listening to me?” the blonde asked, her needy tone demanding his undivided attention.

“Yes, Monique, I’m listening. I’ll have a word with Mrs. Phillips and let her know I don’t advise anymore injections for the next three months.”

“Three months!” Monique exclaimed. “It should be like a year. She’s not going to be able to eat.”

Even though I had already decided I wasn’t a fan of Monique, I found myself giving her some props for trying to protect dear Mrs. Phillips. On the other hand, she could be pretending she was concerned about the patient to try and capture the doctor’s attention, but who could blame her?

I leaned slightly to the left and saw Dr. Bennett looking out the window as he spoke. “I’m not sure why you pity her. Narcissistic people who are obsessed with their looks only get what they deserve. The woman got exactly what she asked for.”

I frowned and felt the temperature of my body rise a couple of degrees out of anger. The man didn’t give a rat’s ass if Mrs. Phillips blew up her lips to the point that it starved her. How was he even a doctor?

“I smell something fishy,” Monique whined as she looked around at the tables in the center of the cafe. “Someone is eating tuna. I hate tuna.”

I looked down at my sandwich and rolled my eyes. Of course, it would be my sandwich that blew my cover. I sucked at sleuthing. When I looked back up, Dr. Bennett was staring in my direction.

“Where is that smell coming from?” Monique continued turning her head to look over her shoulder at where I was sitting.

Thankfully Dr. Bennett pulled her attention back towards him. “Monique, it’s a sandwich. Let it go,” He snapped.

I took it as a sign that my research work was done for the day. Scooting to the edge of the booth, I picked up my car keys and cell phone and stood while my eyes mapped out a path to the front door.

The quickest way to the exit was past their booth. Refusing to look at the couple, I began to move. I had almost cleared past them when my keys slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor. The Polish Magazine keyring I had received after the completion of my first year landed face up, ridiculing my attempt at suaveness. With an embarrassed huff, I leaned over to pick them up when a large hand reached out and snatched them from in front of me.

I yelped and squeezed my eyes shut.

I didn’t want to look at the owner of that hand. I really, really didn’t but knew I had no other choice. Opening my eyes, I looked out of the bottom corner of my sunglasses as I tried to judge the distance to where my keys were being offered on the palm of Dr. Bennett’s hand.

With my hand trembling, I hesitantly reached out. My fingers had barely touched the cold metal when his fingers snapped closed, trapping mine.

It only took a brief glance at how small my hand looked in comparison to his for the panic to kick in. I jerked my arm back pulling against his grip but he didn’t let go. A soft noise escaped my throat, but it was overpowered by Monique’s annoyed snort.

With his eyes silently drilling a hole into my face Dr. Bennett, released his grip.

I didn’t waver once. I all but ran out the front door, eager to put space between my shuddering frame and whatever was sitting in that booth.