Brooklyn's Break In #1 | ✔

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From: asherwoods69@gmail.com
To: brklynreid@gmail.com

Ms Reid, I'm sorry for my earlier behavior. I hope the clothes can make up for it.

During the whole trip in the mall, Mr Woods was distant. The only time where they communicated was when Brooklyn showed him a choice and he would nod yes or shake his head no.

At first, he annoyed her how he just ignored her presence, but then she got over it. It wasn't as if he owed her anything. If anything, she owed him an extra couple thousands.

From: brklynreid@gmail.com
To: asherwoods69@gmail.com

You don't have to apologize, Sir, I understand. I overstepped. I'm sorry.

Thank you for the clothes, but the way. You didn't have to.

She sent the email and tucked herself in. It was almost twelve midnight and she had to wake up in about six hours to get ready for another day at work. She pulled the towel she had to make use as a duvet to her chin and closed her eyes.

The window was open, blowing a weak gust of wind into her room. She had left it that way because the fan in her room haven't been maintained for a long time, and it had slowed down, making her room stuffy if the window wasn't open.

Brooklyn tossed around. The wind wasn't as strong today, it was more like a pathetic blow from a kid blowing out his birthday candles. She kicked the towel away from her body and turned again. It was too hot.

She turned to the direction of her nightstand, and a sudden flash from her phone caught her attention. Curious, she picked it up. It was a text message from an unknown number:

I was so caught up to get the beautiful lady's number that I forgot to ask for her name.

- don't call the cops👮, I'm not a creep. I met you in the flea market

Chuckling to herself, she unlocked her phone to respond to the message.

Oh, I remember you! You bought me that top! :)

She smiled just thinking of the nice guy that technically saved her from losing her job. Mr Woods had said that if she didn't come in a suitable attire he would demote her of her job she haven't even started.

Come to think of it, he wouldn't. He wants her up there, in a room beside his.

He probably wouldn't mind if she just wore her birthday suit to work.

Bingo!! So are you gonna tell me your name? Or do I have to pay my way to it too ;)

She narrowed her eyes. Did he just suggest that she was a tramp that wants him for his money? It might've seemed that way at the flea market but that was not her intentions. This conversation just took a turn for the worse.

She tried to keep a light attitude.

That won't be necessary. My name's Jessica.

She bluffed, but whatever. If she doesn't want any connections to this guy again, it would be easier if she kept her real identity hidden.

Jessica. A beautiful name for a stunning girl.

Compliments will not get him anywhere. Not after that indirect jab towards her pride.

Thank you :) So, what's your name? Do I have to pay for it?