Page 27 of The Master

The paparazzi had found Ashlee.

Eighteen

Ashlee

An apartmentin my building opened up this morning when the landlord found out that the skeevy jerk in 4F buzzed in three reporters and got thirty bucks each time. According to Gary and Perry, the hallway reeked of pot the whole night, so that helped. They’d stopped by this morning before work to let me know that if I needed them, all I had to do was call.

I wouldn’t ask them to take off work for something so trivial as a few lurking reporters, but I appreciated the offer. Except when I looked out the window ten minutes later, however, I seriously considered changing my mind. Because that wasn’t just a few reporters waiting outside my building. I counted at least a dozen, and I knew I wasn’t seeing them all. If I walked out there, I’d be swarmed. Making it to the subway would be difficult at best.

I was still trying to decide if I was going to take advantage of Mr. Hancock’s offer to work from home when I got a text from Nate.

I’m sending a car and security to pick you up for work. His name’s Owen Crocker and I’ve attached a picture so you’ll know who to trust. He’s a good man.

No question about whether or not I’d be coming into the office. I wondered if Mr. Hancock had told Nate about the offer to work from home, or if Mr. Hancock thought it better to keep any details about my employment between him and me. Then again, I doubted there was much of anything in his company that Nate didn’t know.

Out of curiosity, I sent back a question.Mr. Hancock said I could work from home if coming in was going to be an issue. What should I have Owen do if I decide to stay here?

It didn’t take long for Nate to send back a response, as if he hadn’t needed to even think about the answer.

You won’t.

Was this a Dom thing, or something else?

And how do you know?I added a winking face icon.

Because I know you won’t give those three the satisfaction of affecting your life. You’ve worked too hard to be where you are and you’re not the kind of person who lets others push her around.

I could almost hear how matter-of-fact he would’ve said the words. As if there was no doubt in his mind that he knew me well enough to make such a declaration. It shouldn’t have surprised me. He knew me better than anyone ever had, second only to my mother. He’d understood parts of me that I hadn’t discovered before meeting him. Why wouldn’t he be able to predict not only what I would do, but why I’d do it?

What did surprise me was the fact that he wasn’t trying to talk me out of it. He’d already showed himself to be protective, but instead of going all alpha male on me and demanding I stay home, he was supporting what he knew my decision would be. I didn’t like the fact that I couldn’t just go about my regular business, but at least Nate was trying to help me keep things as normal as possible.

Thank you.

I sent off the short reply and then pulled up the picture Nate had sent. Owen Crocker looked to be in his late twenties, with platinum blond hair, and dark eyes. I couldn’t tell how tall he was, but what I could see of his shoulders and chest were massive. The picture looked to be from some sort of ID, but Owen didn’t have the usual bored or way-too-happy expression that usually showed up on those things. He looked like the sort of man who could make a mugger pee their pants with just a single look.

I was suddenly interested to see what the reporters would make of him.

It was easier to pretend after that. To go through my usual routine of getting a shower, dressing, finding something to eat while I waited for my ride. Okay, that last one was new, but while I was up here, not looking down at the street, I could imagine that it was just Nate being romantic.

Someone knocked on my door, and a quick peek showed me that Owen was even more muscular in person and was well over six feet tall. With Nate vouching for him, I felt completely safe opening the door.

“Ashlee Webb?”

I nodded and held out a hand. “You’re Owen Crocker.”

“I am. Are you ready to go?”

I picked up my purse from the hook on the wall. “I am.”

“This way.”

As he led me down the hall, he didn’t say another word. Clearly, this wasn’t going to be a ride filled with pleasant conversation, but he didn’t seem annoyed. Just focused.

Considering the mass of reporters waiting outside my building, someone this professional was exactly what I needed.

Nineteen

Nate

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