ˢᵉᵛᵉᶰᵗᵉᵉᶰ

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"Hey! Asher, babe, I know you're at work and all, but I have a slight problem...I need to get out of the house...yes, I know that the whole point of me not going to work is that I won't be swarmed by paps...my friend wants to meet up, haven't seen her in ages...just some cafe downtown...you'll call Samuel to pick me up?...great, thanks. You're the best."

Brooklyn was sucking up kissing his ass and she knew it, she wanted something and she would do anything in her power to get what she wants, even call her boss to ask permission for something that he purposefully crafted for her to stay safe.

It was probably in everyone's best interest for her to stay home; Brooklyn because she doesn't want complications for herself and the people around her, and Asher because he doesn't want to burden Brooklyn of the life of a celebrity.

But alas, she asked, and who was he to say no to her. Brooklyn was no pet and he was no owner, he can't tell her when to stay home and when she can go out. She had never left the house since they landed their feet in there on Saturday, not once into pure daylight, only behind the confines of walls and windows.

Well, technically that wasn't all that true because she had spent some time in the backyard, whether it was sunbathing or swimming, sometimes she went out there with Asher and they would fool around. They did it in the pool once, a totally different, out of the world experience.

The buzzer rang. "Ms Reid," a feminine but professional voice greeted her, "your ride is here."

Brooklyn's eyes widen in surprise at how fast Samuel took to get here. It had been around five minutes, and the office was at at twenty minutes away. That was too fast even for a race car driver.

She went downstairs from her room and to the foyer. A maid, she after that learned that she was the one that called her according to her voice, guided her to the garage, where she found Samuel standing by the car, stoic as ever.

"Samuel," Brooklyn smiled happily, bouncing over to him, "how did you get here so quickly, surely you can't drive that fast."

"Miss," he nodded sharply. "I have been running some errands nearby when Mr Woods informed me that you needed a ride. Didn't want to keep you waiting."

"That's so nice of you," she stopped by the car and Samuel opened the door for her. "Thank you," she said before she climbed in and sitting herself comfortably in he backseat.

When they backed out of the garage, Samuel told her to duck her head beneath the window. The windows were tinted but it wasn't dark enough to conceal the person behind it, so it was a good substitute.

She soon realized how much of the actually helped her. There were about a dozen or so paparazzis outside, chatting happily with each other while holding their equipment, waiting. Their heads all turned when they saw the car backing out, but seeing as it was on the driver, they resumed their talking.

Brooklyn never understood why they like to stand around waiting for someone that usually doesn't want to have their picture taken or wants to be flung question after question of rumors that might or might not be true.

For example, with Brooklyn. Couldn't they just assume maybe they were two old friends that are meeting up to catch up, like what she was doing with Jessica. Why must they assume the worse instead, saying that she was dating the guy.

She sighed out in resign.

The last time she had been in this car, she was rushing home with her mom lying half unconscious on her lap. She was worried sick to the core, her mom looked frail and pale and weak, and she didn't know what to do. Thank God Asher was there to comfort her and calm her nerves, otherwise she would've had a panic attack.

Brooklyn closed her eyes as she remembered the traumatic experience. Her dad going all crazy on her. She had never seen him like that, not in her entire lifetime. Until that day. It was like somebody took over his body and the person that he once was has no control over what he says or do.

"Miss," Samuel called, and he only resumed talking when Brooklyn acknowledged him, "do you mind giving the direction? Mr Woods told me it was a café but he didn't specify."

"Oh, my bad. Sorry," she leaned front between the two front seats so that she can tell him which way to turn. "Take a right here, then at the light go straight and then another right at the second junction. The place should be the shop about four lots down."

"Thank you. I might know the place."

Brooklyn just smiled in reply.

The arrived at the place and Samuel locked the doors before she could get out. She frowned at him and he just mildly shook his head. "Are you sure you want to do this? Mr Woods told me it was a friend," he said, "can you trust this person."

"Of course I can," Brooklyn answered immediately, confused as to why he was asking her the question. "We were best friends in high school. She have had my back when I was bullied and she stands up for me all the time. There's no one trust more even though it has been years."

"And have you asked yourself why she suddenly wanted to make up for lost time?"

"To catch up! What else," she said indignantly. "Come on, Samuel, you don't have to look after my back all the time, I can make my own decisions."

"Alright," he sighed, "it was just a precaution I thought you might want to know in case something does happen."

"Thanks," Brooklyn grinned at him, touched that Asher's driver cared for her safety so much. "Can I go now, I'm late as it is."

He unbuckled his seat belt, "of course."

"No," she stopped him before he can open his door, "I can do it by myself."

He nodded and she slipped out, but before she close the door, he said something else, "Call me when you're done, I'll pick you up."

"It's fine, I can call a cab."

"Sorry, Miss, Mr Woods's orders."

She rolled her eyes at Asher's stupid order. It was so him to tell her what to do, but since he allowed her to leave the house today, it doesn't matter if it isn't the most feminist to do. She'll let it pass for today.

Entering the cafe, the bell chimed above her head, signalling a new arrival. She looked around and saw that Jessica hasn't arrived yet. That was weird because she was already ten minutes late.

Brooklyn shrugged and took a place in a window booth so that she can look outside and see Jessica before she enters. The waiter handed her the menu and she ordered a caramel macchiato.

As she waited for her coffee to arrived, she surveyed the place. The small cafe was painted a warm shade of beige, the it was decorated with picture frames on the walls. The tables were covered with those checkered tablecloth and had decorative flowers sitting on each table.

It was relatively empty, save for the few customers that were either reading the papers or using their laptop, working. She suddenly felt like she neglected her job. Asher was courteous enough to offer her a job when she was in the wrong, and now it felt like she was taking advantage of his generosity.

Making up her mind, she was gonna go back to work tomorrow, no questions asked. Public or not. Asher can't stop her if she puts her mind in it.

He had helped her enough, and her mom, they were both guest in his home. Brooklyn isn't going to take his thoughtfulness for granted anymore, she's going to work for it.

That was when the door opened again. In her daydream she didn't notice a figure approaching the door, it was Jessica.

"Brooklyn," she smiled sweetly.

Brooklyn's Break In #1 | ✔Where stories live. Discover now