by E. L. James
I give her a nod. Maybe she does care about Ana, but how Elliot puts up with her I'll never know.
"I really am sorry. You're right, it's none of my business," she whispers to Ana. There's a knock that startles us all, and my mom pokes her head around the door.
"Everything okay, darling?" Mom asks, looking directly at me.
"Everything's fine, Mrs. Grey," Katherine offers.
"Fine, Mom," I respond.
She expresses her relief as she enters the room. "Then you won't mind if I give my son a birthday hug." She gives us all a broad smile and walks into my waiting arms. I hold her close. "Happy birthday, darling," she says. "I'm so glad you're still with us."
"Mom, I'm fine." I look into her warm hazel eyes and they're shining with maternal love.
"I'm so happy for you," she says, and she holds her palm against my cheek.
Mom. I love you.
She steps out of my embrace. "Well, kids, if you've all finished your tete-a-tete, there's a throng of people here to check that you really are in one piece, Christian, and to wish you a happy birthday."
"I'll be right there."
Mom looks from Katherine to Ana, satisfied, I think, that nothing is amiss. She winks at Ana as she holds open the door for all of us. Ana takes my hand.
"Christian, I really do apologize," Katherine says.
I acknowledge her with the briefest of nods and we walk into the hallway.
"Does your mother know about us?" asks Ana.
"Yes."
Ana raises her eyebrows. "Oh. Well, that was an interesting start to the evening."
"As ever, Miss Steele, you have a gift for understatement." I kiss her knuckles and we step into the living room.
A deafening, spontaneous round of applause erupts as we enter.
Shit. So many people! Why so many people? My family. Kavanagh's brother, Flynn and his wife. Mac! Bastille. Mia's friend Lily and her mother. Ros and Gwen. Elena.
Elena catches my attention with a little salute while she applauds. I'm distracted by my mom's housekeeper. She's carrying a tray of champagne. I squeeze Ana's hand and let it go as the applause dies down.
"Thank you, everyone. Looks like I'll need one of these." I take two flutes, and hand a glass to Ana.
I raise my glass in tribute to the room. Everyone moves forward, overzealous and eager to greet me because of yesterday's accident. Elena is first to reach us, and I take Ana's free hand. "Christian, I was so worried." Elena kisses me on both cheeks before I have a chance to react. Ana tries to free her hand but I tighten my hold on her.
"I'm good, Elena," I respond.
"Why didn't you call me?" She sounds aggravated, her eyes searching mine.
"I've been busy."
"Didn't you get my messages?"
I let go of Ana's hand and put my arm around her shoulder, instead pulling her to me.
Elena gives Ana a smile. "Ana," she purrs. "You look lovely, dear."
"Elena. Thank you." Ana's tone is saccharine and insincere.
Could this be any more awkward?
I catch Mom's eye and she frowns, looking at the three of us.
"Elena, I need to make an announcement," I tell her.
"Of course," she says, with a brittle smile.
I ignore her. "Everyone," I call out, and I wait for the hum in the room to die down. When I have everyone's attention, I take a deep breath. "Thank you for coming today. I have to say I was expecting a quiet family dinner, so this is a pleasant surprise." I shoot Mia a pointed look and she waves at me. "Ros and I"--I give Ros and Gwen a nod--"we had a close call yesterday." Ros raises her glass to me. "So, I'm especially glad to be here today to share with all of you my very good news. This beautiful woman"--I look down at my girl beside me--"Miss Anastasia Rose Steele, has consented to be my wife, and I'd like you all to be the first to know."
My announcement is met with a few gasps, a cheer, and another spontaneous round of applause. I turn to Ana, who looks flushed and beautiful, tip her chin up and give her a swift, chaste kiss. "You'll soon be mine."
"I am already."
"Legally," I mouth at her, with a wicked grin.
She chuckles.
Mom and Dad are the first to congratulate us.
"Darling boy. I've never seen you this happy." Mom kisses my cheek and wipes a tear and then gushes over Ana.
"Son, I'm so proud," Carrick says.
"Thanks, Dad."
"She's a lovely girl."
"I know."
"Where is the ring?" exclaims Mia as she hugs Ana.
Ana gives me a startled look.
"We're going to choose one together." I glare at my little sister. She's such a pain in the ass sometimes.
"Oh, don't look at me like that, Grey!" Mia scoffs, and she folds her arms around me. "I'm so thrilled for you, Christian," she says. "When will you get married? Have you set a date?"
"No idea, and no we haven't. Ana and I need to discuss all that."
"I hope you have a big wedding here!" Her persistence is overwhelming.
"We'll probably fly to Vegas tomorrow."
She looks pissed, but thankfully I'm saved by Elliot, who gives me bear hug.
"Way to go, bro." He slaps me on the back, hard.
Elliot turns to Ana and Bastille claps me on my back, too. Harder.
"Well, Grey, I did not see this coming. Congratulations, man." He pumps my hand.
"Thank you, Claude."
"So, when will I start training your fiancee? The thought of her kicking you onto your backside fills me with hope and joy."
I laugh. "I've given her your schedule, I'm sure she'll be in touch."
Lily's mother, Ashley, congratulates me, but she's a little frosty. I hope she and Lily steer clear of my fiancee.
I rescue Ana from Mia as Dr. Flynn and his wife approach. "Christian," says Flynn, holding out his hand, and we shake.
"John. Rhian." I give his wife a kiss.
"Glad you're still with us, Christian," Flynn says. "My life would be most dull--and penurious--without you."
"John!" Rhian scolds him, and I introduce her to Anastasia.
"Delighted to meet the woman who has finally captured Christian's heart," Rhian says warmly to Ana.
"Thank you," she replies.
"That was one googly you bowled there, Christian." Flynn shakes his head in amused disbelief.
What?
"John--you and your cricket metaphors." Rhian scolds him again, wishes me a happy birthday and congratulates us, and soon she and Ana are deep in an animated conversation.
"That was quite the announcement, given your audience," John says, and I know he's referring to Elena.
"Yes. I'm sure she wasn't expecting that," I answer.
"We can talk about it later."
"How's Leila?"
"She's good, Christian, responding well to treatment. Another couple of weeks and we can consider an outpatient program."
"That's a relief."
"She's interested in our art therapy classes."
"Really? She used to paint."
"So she said. I think these classes could really help."
"Great. Is she eating?"
"Yes. Her appetite's fine."
"Good. Ask her something for me."
"Of course?"
"I need to know if she moved some photography I had in my safe."
"Ah. Yes. She told me about that."
"She did?"
"You know how mischievous she can be. Her intention was to rattle Ana."
"Well, it worked."
"We can discuss that later, too."
We're joined by Ros and Gwen, whom I introduce to Ana.
"I'm so glad to finally meet you, Ana," says Ros.
"Thank you. Have you recovered from your ordeal?"
Ros nods and Gwen puts her arm around her. "It was quite something," Ros continues. "How Christian managed to land safely was a miracle. He's an excellent pilot."
"It was luck, and
I wanted to get home to my girl," I respond.
"Of course you did. And having met her, who can blame you?" says Gwen.
Grace announces that dinner is served in the kitchen.
Taking Ana's hand, I give it a quick squeeze to see how she's holding up, and we follow the guests through to the kitchen. Mia ambushes Ana in the hallway, holding two cocktail glasses, and I know she's up to no good.
Ana gives me a brief panicked look but I let her go, watching as they enter the dining room. Mia closes the door behind them.
In the kitchen, Mac approaches me to offer his congratulations.
"Please, Mac, call me Christian. You're at my engagement party."
"Heard about the crash." He listens intently as I give him the grisly details.
My mother has set out a feast with a Moroccan theme. I load a plate while Mac and I shoot the breeze about The Grace.
As I help myself to a second portion of lamb tagine, I wonder what the hell Ana and Mia are doing? I decide to go and rescue Ana but outside the dining room, I hear her shouting. "Don't you dare tell me what I'm getting myself into!"
Shit. What gives?
"When will you learn? It's none of your goddamned business!" Ana rages.
I try to open the door, but someone is in the way. The person moves and the door swings open. Ana is bristling with anger. Her complexion reddening. She's shaking with fury. Elena stands before her, drenched in what must have been Ana's drink. I shut the door and stand between them.
"What the fuck are you doing, Elena?" I snarl.
I told you to leave her alone.
She wipes her face with the back of her hand. "She's not right for you, Christian."
"What?" I yell and I'm so loud that I'm sure I've startled Ana because Elena jumps, too. But I don't give a fuck.
I've warned her. And warned her.
"How the fuck do you know what's right for me?"
"You have needs, Christian," she says, her voice softer, and I know she's trying to placate me.
"I've told you before, this is none of your fucking business." I'm surprised by my own vehemence. "What is this?" I scowl at her. "Do you think it's you? You? You think you're right for me?"
Elena's expression hardens, her eyes like flint. She stands taller and steps toward me. "I was the best thing that ever happened to you," she hisses, with unrestrained arrogance. "Look at you now. One of the richest, most successful entrepreneurs in the United States. Controlled, driven, you need nothing. You are master of your universe."
She's going there.
Fuck.
I step back. Disgusted.
"You loved it, Christian, don't try and kid yourself. You were on the road to self-destruction, and I saved you from that, saved you from a life behind bars. Believe me, baby, that's where you would have ended up. I taught you everything you know, everything you need."
I cannot remember a time when I've felt such rage. "You taught me how to fuck, Elena. But it's empty, like you. No wonder Linc left."
She gasps. Shocked.
"You never once held me. You never once said you loved me."
Her ice-blue eyes narrow. "Love is for fools, Christian."
"Get out of my house," Grace commands in a cold fury.
The three of us jump and turn to see my mother, an avenging angel, standing on the threshold of the room. She fixates on Elena, and if looks could kill, Elena would be a small mound of ash on the floor.
I look from Grace to Elena, her color now drained from her face. And as Grace stalks toward her, Elena seems powerless to move or say anything while under my mother's withering glare. Grace slaps her hard across her face, astonishing us all. The sound resonates off the walls. "Take your filthy paws off my son, you whore, and get out of my house--now!" Grace seethes through gritted teeth.
Fuck. Mom!
Elena clutches her cheek in shock. She blinks rapidly, staring at Grace, then turns and abruptly leaves the room, not bothering to close the door behind her.
Mom turns to me, and I cannot look away.
I see hurt and anguish written all over her face.
She says nothing as we stare at each other, and an oppressive and unbearable silence fills the room.
Finally she speaks. "Ana, before I hand him over to you, would you mind giving me a minute or two alone with my son?" It's not a request.
"Of course," Ana whispers. I watch Ana leave and close the door.
Mom glowers at me, saying nothing, looking at me as though she's seeing me for the first time.
Seeing the monster she reared but did not create.
Shit.
I'm in big trouble. My scalp prickles in acknowledgment and I feel the blood drain from my face.
"How long, Christian?" she says, her voice low. And I know that tone--it's the calm before the storm.
How much did she hear?
"A few years," I mumble. I don't want her to know. I don't want to tell her. I don't want to hurt her and I know it will. I've known that since I was fifteen.
"How old were you?"
I swallow and my heart rate accelerates like a Formula One engine. I have to be careful here. I don't want to cause trouble for Elena. I study Mom's face, trying to judge how she'll react. Should I lie to her? Could I lie to her? And part of me knows I lied to her every time I saw Elena and told her I was studying with a friend.
Mom's eyes are piercing. "Tell me. How old were you when this all started?" she says through clenched teeth. It's the voice that I've only heard on rare occasions, and I know I'm doomed. She will not stop until she has an answer.
"Sixteen," I whisper.
She narrows her eyes and cocks her head to one side.
"Try again." Her voice is chillingly quiet.
Hell. How does she know?
"Christian," she warns, prompting me.
"Fifteen."
She closes her eyes like I've stabbed her, her hand flying to her mouth as she stifles a sob. When she opens them, they're filled with pain and unshed tears.
"Mom..." I try to think of something to say to take that pain away. I step toward her and she holds up her hand to stop me.
"Christian. I am so mad at you right now. I suggest you don't come any closer."
"How did you know? That I lied," I ask.
"For heaven's sake, Christian--I'm your mother," she snaps and dashes a fallen tear from her cheek.
I feel myself blushing, feeling stupid and slightly piqued at the same time. Only my mom can make me feel this way. My mom. And Ana.
I thought I was a better liar.
"Yes, you should look shamefaced. How long did this go on for? How long did you lie to us, Christian?"
I shrug. I don't want her to know.
"Tell me!" she insists.
"A few years."
"Years! Years!" she shouts, making me cringe. She so rarely shouts.
"I can't believe it. That fucking woman."
I gasp. I have never heard Grace swear. Ever. It shocks me.
She turns and paces to the window. I stay standing. Paralyzed. Speechless.
Mom just cursed.
"And to think, all the times she's been here..." Grace groans and puts her head in her hands. I cannot stand by any longer. I step toward her and wrap my arms around her. This is so new to me, holding my mom. I pull her to my chest, and she starts to weep quietly.
"I've already thought you dead this week, and now this," she sobs.
"Mom--it's not what you think."
"Don't even try it, Christian. I heard you, I heard what you said. That she taught you to fuck."
She's said it again!
I flinch--this isn't her. She doesn't swear. It's mortifying to think I have something to do with this. The thought of hurting Grace is excruciating. I'd never want to hurt her. She saved me. And all at once I'm overwhelmed by my shame and my remorse.
"I knew something happened when you were fifteen. She was the reason, wasn't she? The reason you suddenly calmed down, seemed to focus?
Oh, Christian. What did she do to you?"
Mom! Why is she overreacting? Do I tell her that Elena brought me under control? I don't have to tell her how. "Yes," I murmur.
She groans again. "Oh, Christian. I've gotten drunk with that woman, spilled my soul to her so many nights. And to think..."
"My relationship with her has nothing to do with your friendship."
"Don't give me that bullshit, Christian! She abused my trust. She abused my son!" Her voice cracks, and once more she buries her face in her hands.
"Mom--it didn't feel like that."
She stands back and swats me around the head, making me duck.
"Words fail me, Christian. Fail me. Where did I go wrong?"
"Mom, this is not your fault."
"How? How did it start?" She holds her hand up and continues hurriedly. "I don't want to know that. What will your father say?"
Fuck.
Carrick will go batshit.
Suddenly I'm fifteen again, dreading another of his interminable lectures on personal responsibility and acceptable behavior. Christ, that's the last thing I want.
"Yes, he'll be mad as hell," Mom interjects, correctly interpreting my expression. "We knew something had happened. You changed overnight--and to think it was because you got laid by my best friend."
Right now, I want the floor to swallow me up.
"Mom--it's been, it's done, it's gone. She did me no harm."
"Christian, I heard what you said. I heard her cold response. And to think..." She puts her head in her hands once more. Suddenly her eyes fly up to meet mine, and widen in horror.
Fuck. What now?
"No!" she breathes.
"What?"
"Oh no. Tell me it's not true, because if it is--I'll find your father's old pistol and I'll shoot the bitch."
Mom!
"What?"
"I know that Elena's tastes run to the exotic, Christian."
For the second time this evening, I feel slightly dizzy. Shit. She must not know this.
"It was just sex, Mom," I mutter quickly--let's shut that down right now. No way am I exposing my mother to that part of my life.
She narrows her eyes at me. "I don't want the sordid details, Christian. Because that's what this is--nasty, sordid, squalid. What kind of woman does that to a fifteen-year-old boy? It's disgusting. To think of all the confidences I've shared with her. Well, you can be sure she'll never set foot in this house again." She presses her lips together in determination. "And you should cease all contact with her."
"Mom, um...Elena and I run a very successful business together."
"No, Christian. You cut your ties with her."
