Chapter 5 - The Man Across the StreetMaeve noticed the gray sedan on Tuesday.
She did not immediately connect it to anything.
New York contained millions of cars and an infinite supply of suspicious-looking gray sedans.
It sat across from Northbridge when she arrived at 9:40 p.m.
It was still there when she left at 6:12 the next morning.
The second time, she noticed the driver.
Male.
Baseball cap.
Phone raised toward the building.
Maeve stopped.
The man lowered the device.
Her pulse accelerated.
She turned and walked toward the subway.
The sedan pulled away.
Maeve called Helen before reaching the corner.
By seven, Northbridge had contacted police.
By seven fifteen, Reed Connect security knew.
By seven seventeen, Nolan was informed.
Adrian had never seen Nolan move that quickly.
One moment he was standing inside a conference room listening to a presentation about European regulatory expansion.
The next, his chair was empty.
“Nolan?”
The chief financial officer stopped mid-sentence.
Nolan already had his phone against his ear.
“Get a car downstairs.”
Adrian followed him.
“You cannot personally respond to this.”
“Watch me.”
“You’re the CEO of a public company.”
“And?”
“And your crisis counselor being followed is exactly the kind of sentence that destroys multiple departments.”
Nolan stopped.
Every executive in the corridor pretended not to hear.
“Say that again.”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“I’m not saying ignore it. I’m saying send professionals.”
“I am sending professionals.”
“Then why are you leaving?”
Nolan’s eyes hardened.
Adrian knew the answer.
Maeve.
He sighed.
“Fine. I’m coming.”
Forty minutes later, Maeve sat inside a police interview room near Queens Boulevard.
She was angry rather than frightened.
Mostly.
The officer had just left when Helen entered.
“Someone is here.”
Maeve looked up.
“Who?”
Helen gave her a strange expression.
“You already know.”
Nolan stood in the hallway.
No cameras.
No press.
Dark sweater beneath a black coat.
Adrian beside him.
Two security agents farther away.
Maeve closed her eyes.
“Of course.”
Nolan entered.
“Are you okay?”
Not hello.
Not polite introduction.
Straight to the only question that mattered.
Maeve stood.
“I’m fine.”
“You were followed.”
“I saw a car.”
“A car linked to a private intelligence contractor.”
Maeve’s face changed.
“What?”
Nolan looked toward the officer outside.
“We traced the license plate.”
Helen folded her arms.
“Why would a private intelligence contractor care about one of my counselors?”
Silence.
Nolan answered.
“Because somebody inside Reed Connect sent Maeve’s information to them.”
Helen’s face became cold.
Maeve stared at Nolan.
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
“You told me one executive accessed the directory.”
“Marcus Vale.”
“Who is he?”
“My chief strategy officer.”
Maeve laughed once without humor.
“Wonderful.”
Nolan moved closer.
“Maeve, until we understand this, I’m assigning security.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t get to assign things to me.”
“Maeve.”
“Nolan.”
Adrian watched them.
Helen noticed.
The police officer definitely noticed.
Nolan lowered his voice.
“This is not about control.”
“When a billionaire announces what another adult is going to do without asking, it tends to resemble control.”
“Someone photographed your workplace.”
“And security is appropriate. But you could try asking.”
Nolan’s jaw moved.
He was not accustomed to needing permission.
That itself told Maeve why permission mattered.
He took a breath.
“Would you agree to temporary security until we identify who followed you?”
Maeve considered.
“Yes.”
Nolan blinked.
“That easy?”
“You asked.”
Adrian covered a smile.
For the first time since Nolan arrived, Maeve almost relaxed.
The police investigation produced little.
The sedan belonged to a corporate surveillance company named Highcrest Intelligence.
Highcrest claimed the vehicle had been assigned to “commercial due diligence.”
Client confidentiality prevented disclosure of who commissioned the work.
Nolan’s legal team disagreed aggressively.
By noon, injunction papers were moving through Manhattan Supreme Court.
Maeve watched the machine surrounding Nolan operate.
Lawyers.
Security.
Analysts.
People answered his calls before the second ring.
Doors opened.
Information appeared.
For the first time she understood the scale of his power.
It unsettled her.
Yet she also watched Nolan crouch beside an elderly woman in the station lobby because her purse had spilled onto the floor.
No cameras.
No reason.
He simply helped collect her medication bottles.
The contradiction was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
Outside the precinct, Nolan approached Maeve.
“My driver will take you home.”
“My train works.”
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Nolan corrected himself.
“Would you please use the car?”
“Better.”
His mouth twitched.
Maeve looked toward the black Maybach.
“You’re coming?”
“Yes.”
“That seems unnecessary.”
“I know.”
She understood anyway.
She got inside.
For several minutes they sat opposite each other in the quiet rear cabin.
The privacy partition remained open because Maeve insisted.
Nolan noticed.
He said nothing.
“This is strange,” Maeve eventually said.
“What?”
“I’ve spoken to you for hours.”
“Forty-six hours and approximately twelve minutes.”
Maeve stared.
“You counted?”
“No.”
“You just gave me minutes.”
“I estimated.”
“Liar.”
He smiled.
“But sitting across from you feels stranger.”
Nolan studied her.
“Because I have a face?”
“Because your face is looking back.”
“That’s generally how faces work.”
Maeve laughed.
The sound loosened something in him.
Then the car stopped outside a modest brick apartment building in Astoria.
Nolan looked up.
Maeve immediately knew what he was thinking.
“No.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You’re looking at my building like you want to purchase it.”
“I was evaluating access points.”
“Nolan.”
“Security issue.”
“My landlord would sell this place to you before breakfast if you make eye contact.”
“I’ll avoid eye contact.”
Maeve reached for the door.
“Thank you for caring.”
He looked at her.
The seriousness in his expression stopped her.
“I don’t know how not to.”
Her hand remained on the door handle.
Nolan realized what he had admitted.
Neither moved.
“Nolan…”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“I do.”
His voice became quiet.
“I know you’re my counselor. I know whatever exists between us started in a place with rules. I know you have responsibilities I don’t want to compromise.”
Maeve swallowed.
“And?”
“And none of that changes what happens to me when I hear your voice.”
Her heartbeat became painful.
“Don’t.”
“I’m not asking you for anything.”
“You’re telling me something I can’t responsibly answer.”
“Then don’t answer.”
“That doesn’t make it disappear.”
“I know.”
Maeve stared through the window.
Outside, her apartment looked ordinary.
Safe.
Simple.
The world she understood.
Inside the car sat a man whose existence seemed designed to complicate everything.
“I need space,” she said.
Nolan’s expression closed slightly.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Days?”
“Nolan.”
“Right.”
He looked down.
“Sorry.”
Maeve opened the door.
Before stepping out, she turned.
“You need support that doesn’t depend on whether I’m working.”
His face became guarded.
“I know what you’re suggesting.”
“A therapist.”
“I’ve had therapists.”
“Then find a better one.”
He almost laughed.
“I can give you referrals through Northbridge.”
“Would you still answer if I called?”
Maeve’s eyes softened.
“For a transition period. But this can’t continue the way it has.”
The pain in his face was quiet.
That made it worse.
“Because we met?”
“Because you started needing Maeve instead of needing support.”
He looked away.
Accurate.
Brutal.
Necessary.
Maeve got out.
Nolan watched her enter the building.
His security team took positions discreetly nearby.
Adrian entered the car after she disappeared.
Neither man spoke for several blocks.
Eventually Adrian said, “You’re in love with her.”
Nolan looked toward him.
“That’s absurd.”
“Excellent counterargument.”
“I barely know her.”
“You’ve spent forty-six hours talking.”
Nolan frowned.
“You heard that?”
“The entire vehicle heard that.”
Nolan turned back toward the window.
Adrian sighed.
“You need to be careful.”
“She said the same thing.”
“She’s smart.”
“She’s infuriating.”
“You’re definitely in love.”
Nolan did not answer.
His phone vibrated.
Cybersecurity.
He opened the message.
The forensic team had cracked part of Marcus Vale’s encrypted communication.
One recovered sentence appeared.
CONFIRM SHE IS THE COUNSELOR. REED IS EMOTIONALLY DEPENDENT.
Nolan’s blood turned cold.
A second message followed.
WE CAN USE HER.
Across Astoria, Maeve climbed three flights of stairs.
She unlocked her apartment.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
Her cat greeted her angrily.
Maeve locked the door.
Then she noticed something lying on the floor beneath it.
A white envelope.
No stamp.
No address.
Her name handwritten across the front.
MAEVE.
She froze.
Slowly, she opened it.
One photograph.
Nolan Reed leaving the Hall of Science.
Maeve visible twenty feet behind him.
May you like
On the back, four words had been written in black ink.
STAY AWAY FROM HIM.
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