e make our
way along the block. It actually makes me more nervous,
and I find myself mirroring his actions.
Is Leila out there? Or are we all infected by Christian’s
paranoia? Is this part of his fifty shades? What I’d give for
half an hour of candid discussion with Dr. Flynn, to find
out.
out.
There’s nothing amiss, just lunchtime Seattle—people
rushing for lunch, shopping, meeting friends. I watch two
young women hug as they meet up.
I miss Kate. It’s only been two weeks since she left for
her vacation, but it feels like the longest two weeks of my
life. So much has happened—she’ll never believe me when
I tell her. Well, tell her the edited NDA-compliant version.
I frown. I’ll ha一ve to talk to Christian about that. What
would Kate make of it? I blanch at the thought. Perhaps
she’ll be back with Ethan. I feel a rush of excitement at the
thought, but I think it’s unlikely. She’d stay on with Elliot
surely.
“Where do you stand when you’re waiting and
watching outside?” I ask Sawyer as we get in line for
lunch. Sawyer is in front of me, facing the door, continually
monitoring the street and anyone who comes in. It’s
unnerving.
“I sit in the coffee shop directly across the street, Miss
Steele.”
“Doesn’t it get very boring?”
“Not to me, ma’am. It’s what I do,” he says stiffly.
I flush. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply . . .” My voice
trails off at his kind, understanding expression.
“Please, Miss Steele. My job is to protect you. And
that’s what I’ll do.”
“So, no sign of Leila?”
“No, ma’am.”
I frown. “How do you know what she looks like?”
“I’ve seen her photograph.”
“I’ve seen her photograph.”
“Oh, do you ha一ve it on you?”
“No, ma’am.” He taps his skull. “Committed to
memory.”
Of course. I’d really like to examine a photograph of
Leila to see what she looked like before she became
Ghost Girl. I wonder if Christian would let me ha一ve a
copy? Yes, he probably would—for my safety. I hatch a
plan, and my subconscious gloats and nods approvingly.
The brochures arrive back at t
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