by E. L. James
Christian holds the foyer door open for me and I head out to the car. He has not let me drive alone to SIP since he found out that Charlie Tango was sabotaged. Sawyer smiles pleasantly, holding the door open for me as Christian and I climb into the car.
“Please.” I reach across and grasp Christian’s hand.
“Please what?”
“Learn how to shoot.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “No. End of discussion, Anastasia.”
And I am a child again to be scolded. I open my mouth to say something cutting, but decide I don’t want to start my workday in a bad mood. I fold my arms instead and glimpse Taylor regarding me in the rearview mirror. He looks away, concentrating on the road in front, but shakes his head a little, in obvious frustration.
Hmm . . . Christian drives him crazy, too, sometimes. The thought makes me smile, and my mood is saved.
“Where is Leila?” I ask as Christian gazes out of his window.
“I told you. She’s in Connecticut with her folks.” He glances at me.
“Did you check? After all, she does have long hair. It could have been her driving the Dodge.”
“Yes, I checked. She’s enrolled in an art school in Hamden. She started this week.”
“You’ve spoken to her?” I whisper, all the blood draining from my face.
Christian whips his head around at the tone of my voice.
“No. Flynn has.” He searches my face for a clue to my thoughts.
“I see,” I murmur, relieved.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Christian sighs. “Ana. What is it?”
I shrug, not wanting to admit to my irrational jealousy.
Christian continues, “I’m keeping tabs on her, checking that she stays on her side of the continent. She’s better, Ana. Flynn has referred her to a shrink in New Haven, and all the reports are very positive. She’s always been interested in art, so . . .” He stops, his face still searching mine. And in that moment I suspect that he is paying for her art classes. Do I want to know? Should I ask him? I mean it’s not as if he can’t afford it, but why does he feel the obligation? I sigh. Christian’s baggage hardly compares to Bradley Kent from biology class and his half-assed attempts to kiss me. Christian reaches for my hand.
“Don’t sweat this, Anastasia,” he murmurs, and I return his reassuring squeeze. I know he’s doing what he thinks is right.
Midmorning I have a break in meetings. As I pick up the phone to call Kate, I notice an e-mail from Christian.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Flattery
Date: August 23, 2011 09:54
To: Anastasia Grey
Mrs. Grey
I have received three compliments on my new haircut. Compliments from my staff are new. It must be the ridiculous smile I’m wearing whenever I think about last night. You are indeed a wonderful, talented, beautiful woman.
And all mine.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I melt reading it.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Trying to concentrate here.
Date: August 23, 2011 10:48
To: Christian Grey
Mr. Grey
I am trying to work and don’t want to be distracted by delicious memories.
Is now the time to confess that I used to cut Ray’s hair regularly? I had no idea it would be such useful training.
And yes, I am yours and you, my dear overbearing husband who refuses to exercise his constitutional right under the second amendment to bear arms, are mine. But don’t worry because I shall protect you. Always.
Anastasia Grey
Commissioning Editor, SIP
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Annie Oakley
Date: August 23, 2011 10:53
To: Anastasia Grey
Mrs. Grey
I am delighted to see you have spoken to the IT dept and changed your name. :D
I shall sleep safe in my bed knowing that my gun-toting wife sleeps beside me.
Christian Grey
CEO & Hoplophobe, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Hoplophobe? What the hell is that?
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Long words
Date: August 23, 2011 10:58
To: Christian Grey
Mr. Grey
Once more you dazzle me with your linguistic prowess.
In fact, your prowess in general, and I think you know what I’m referring to.
Anastasia Grey
Commissioning Editor, SIP
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Gasp!
Date: August 23, 2011 11:01
To: Anastasia Grey
Mrs. Grey
Are you flirting with me?
Christian Grey
Shocked CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Would you rather . . .
Date: August 23, 2011 11:04
To: Christian Grey
I flirted with someone else?
Anastasia Grey
Brave Commissioning Editor, SIP
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Grrrrr
Date: August 23, 2011 11:09
To: Anastasia Grey
NO!
Christian Grey
Possessive CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Wow . . .
Date: August 23, 2011 11:14
To: Christian Grey
Are you growling at me? ’Cause that’s kinda hot.
Anastasia Grey
Squirming (in a good way) Commissioning Editor, SIP
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Beware
Date: August 23, 2011 11:16
To: Anastasia Grey
Flirting and toying with me, Mrs. Grey?
I may pay you a visit this afternoon.
Christian Grey
Priapic CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Oh No!
Date: August 23, 2011 11:20
To: Christian Grey
I’ll behave. I wouldn’t want my boss’s boss’s boss getting on top of me at work. ;)
Now let me get on with my job. My boss’s boss’s boss may fire my ass.
Anastasia Grey
Commissioning Editor, SIP
From: Christian Grey
Subject: &*%$&*&*
Date: August 23, 2011 11:23
To: Anastasia Grey
Believe me when I say there are a great many things he’d like to do to your ass right now. Firing you is not one of them.
Christian Grey
CEO & Ass man, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
His response makes me giggle.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Go Away!
Date: August 23, 2011 11:26
To: Christian Grey
Don’t you have an empire to run?
Stop bothering me.
My next appointment is here.
I thought you were a breast man . . .
Think about my ass, and I’ll think about yours . . .
ILY x
Anastasia Grey
Now Moist Commissioning Editor, SIP
I cannot help my despondent mood as Sawyer drives me to the office on Thursday. Christian’s threatened business trip to New York has happened, and though he’s only been gone a few hours, I miss him already. I fire up my computer, and there’s an email waiting for me. My mood lifts immediately.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Miss you already
Date: August 25, 2011 04:32
To: Anastasia Grey
Mrs. Grey
You were adorable this morning.
Behave while I’m away.
I love you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
>
This will be the first night we’ve slept apart since our wedding. I intend to have a few cocktails with Kate—that should help me sleep. Impulsively, I e-mail him back, although I know that he’s still flying.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Behave Yourself!
Date: August 25, 2011 09:03
To: Christian Grey
Let me know when you land—I’ll worry until you do.
And I shall behave. I mean how much trouble can I get into with Kate?
Anastasia Grey
Commissioning Editor, SIP
I hit send and sip my latte, courtesy of Hannah. Who knew I’d grow to love coffee? Despite the fact that I’m going out this evening with Kate, I feel like a chunk of me is missing. At the moment, it’s thirty-five thousand feet somewhere above the Midwest en route to New York. I didn’t know I would feel this unsettled and anxious just because Christian’s away. Surely over time I won’t feel this loss and uncertainty, will I? I let out a heavy sigh and continue with my work.
Around lunchtime, I start manically checking my e-mail and my BlackBerry for a text. Where is he? Has he landed safely? Hannah asks if I want lunch, but I’m too apprehensive and wave her away. I know it’s irrational, but I need to be sure he’s arrived safely.
My office phone rings, startling me. “Ana St—Grey.”
“Hi.” Christian’s voice is warm with a trace of amusement. Relief floods through me.
“Hi.” I’m grinning from ear to ear. “How was your flight?”
“Long. What are you doing with Kate?”
Oh no. “We’re just going out for a quiet drink.”
Christian says nothing.
“Sawyer and the new woman—Prescott—are coming to watch over us,” I offer, trying to placate him.
“I thought Kate was coming to the apartment.”
“She is after a quick drink.” Please let me go out!
Christian sighs heavily. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he says quietly. Too quietly.
I mentally kick myself. “Christian, we’ll be fine. I have Ryan, Sawyer, and Prescott here. It’s only a quick drink.”
Christian remains resolutely silent, and I know he’s not happy. “I’ve only seen her a few times since you and I met. Please. She’s my best friend.”
“Ana, I don’t want to keep you from your friends. But I thought she was coming back to the apartment.”
“Okay,” I acquiesce. “We’ll stay in.”
“Only while this lunatic is out there. Please.”
“I’ve said okay,” I mutter in exasperation, rolling my eyes.
Christian snorts softly down the phone. “I always know when you’re rolling your eyes at me.”
I scowl at the receiver. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’ll tell Kate.”
“Good,” he breathes, his relief evident. I feel guilty for worrying him.
“Where are you?”
“On the tarmac at JFK.”
“Oh, so you just landed.”
“Yes. You asked me to call the moment I landed.”
I smile. My subconscious glares at me. See? He does what he says he’s going to do.
“Well, Mr. Grey, I’m glad one of us is punctilious.”
He laughs. “Mrs. Grey, your gift for hyperbole knows no bounds. What am I going to do with you?”
“I am sure you’ll think of something imaginative. You usually do.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Yes.”
I sense his grin. “I’d better go. Ana, do as you’re told, please. The security team knows what they’re doing.”
“Yes, Christian, I will.” I sound exasperated again. Jeez, I get the message.
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening. I’ll call you later.”
“To check up on me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Christian!” I scold him.
“Au revoir, Mrs. Grey.”
“Au revoir, Christian. I love you.”
He inhales sharply. “And I you, Ana.”
Neither of us hangs up.
“Hang up, Christian,” I whisper.
“You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?”
“Your bossy little thing.”
“Mine,” he breathes. “Do as you’re told. Hang up.”
“Yes, Sir.” I hang up and grin stupidly at the phone.
A few moments later, an e-mail appears in my inbox.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Twitching Palms
Date: August 25, 2011 13:42 EDT
To: Anastasia Grey
Mrs. Grey
You are as entertaining as ever on the phone.
I mean it. Do as you’re told.
I need to know you’re safe.
I love you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Honestly, he’s the bossy one. But one phone call and all my anxiety has disappeared. He’s arrived safely and he’s fussing about me as usual. I hug myself momentarily. God, I love that man. Hannah knocks on my door, distracting me, and brings me back to the now.
Kate looks gorgeous. In her tight white jeans and red camisole, she’s ready to rock the town. She’s chatting animatedly with Claire in reception when I make my entrance.
“Ana!” she cries, scooping me up in a Kate hug. She holds me at arm’s length.
“Don’t you look the mogul’s wife? Who would have thought, little Ana Steele? You look so . . . sophisticated!” She grins. I roll my eyes at her. I’m wearing a pale cream shift dress with a navy belt and navy pumps.
“It’s good to see you, Kate.” I hug her back.
“So, where are we going?”
“Christian wants us to go back to the apartment.”
“Aw, really? Can’t we sneak a quick cocktail at the Zig Zag Cafe? I’ve booked us a table.”
I open my mouth to protest.
“Please?” she whines and pouts prettily. She must be picking this up from Mia. She never pouts normally. I’d really like a cocktail at the Zig Zag. We had such fun the last time we went there, and it’s close to Kate’s apartment.
I hold up my index finger. “One.”
She grins. “One” She links her arm in mine, and we stroll out to the car, which is parked at the curb with Sawyer at the wheel. We’re followed by Miss Samantha Prescott who’s new to the security team—a tall African-American with a no-nonsense attitude. I’ve yet to warm to her, maybe because she’s too cool and professional. The jury’s definitely out, but like the rest of the team, she’s been hand-picked by Taylor. She’s dressed like Sawyer in a dark somber pantsuit.
“Can you take us to the Zig Zag, please, Sawyer?”
Sawyer turns to look at me, and I know he wants to say something. He’s obviously been given his orders. He hesitates.
“The Zig Zag Café. We’ll only have one.”
I give Kate a sideways glance, and she’s glaring at Sawyer. Poor man.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Mr. Grey requested you go back to the apartment,” Prescott pipes up.
“Mr. Grey isn’t here,” I snap. “The Zig Zag, please.”
“Ma’am,” Sawyer replies with a sideways glance at Prescott, who wisely holds her tongue.
Kate gapes at me as if she can’t believe her eyes and ears. I purse my lips and shrug. Okay, so I’m a little more assertive than I used to be. Kate nods as Sawyer pulls out into the early evening traffic.
“You know the additional security is driving Grace and Mia crazy,” Kate says casually.
I gawk at her, baffled.
“You didn’t know?” She seems incredulous.
“Know what?”
“Security for all of the Greys has been tripled. Gazillioned, even.”
“Really?”
“He hasn’t told you?”
I flush. “No.” Damn it, Christian! “Do you know why?”
“Jack Hyde.”
�
�What about Jack? I thought he was just after Christian.” I gasp. Jeez. Why hasn’t he told me?
“Since Monday,” Kate says.
Last Monday? Hmm . . . we identified Jack on Sunday. But why all the Greys?
“How do you know all this?”
“Elliot.”
Of course.
“Christian hasn’t told you any of this, has he?”
I flush once more. “No.”
“Oh, Ana, how annoying.”
I sigh. As ever, Kate has hit the nail squarely on the head in her usual sledgehammer style. “Do you know why?” If Christian’s not going to tell me, then maybe Kate will.
“Elliot said it’s something to do with information stored on Jack Hyde’s computer when he was at SIP.”
Holy crap. “You’re kidding.” A surge of anger pulses through me. How does Kate know about this when I don’t?
I glance up to see Sawyer eyeing me from the rearview mirror. The red light turns to green and he surges forward, focusing on the road ahead. I hold my finger up to my lips and Kate nods. I bet Sawyer knows, too, and I don’t.
“How’s Elliot?” I ask to change the subject.
Kate grins stupidly, telling me all I need to know.
Sawyer pulls up at the end of the passageway that leads down to the Zig Zag Café, and Prescott opens my door. I scoot out and Kate slides out after me. We link arms and meander down the passage, followed by Prescott, who’s wearing a thunderous expression on her face. Oh, for heaven’s sake, it’s just a drink. Sawyer drives off to park the car.
“So how does Elliot know Gia?” I ask, taking a sip of my second strawberry mojito. The bar is intimate and cozy, and I don’t want to leave. Kate and I have not stopped talking. I had forgotten how much I like hanging with her. It’s liberating to be out, relaxing, enjoying Kate’s company. I contemplate texting Christian then dismiss the idea. He’ll just be mad and make me go home like an errant child.
“Don’t talk to me about that bitch!” Kate splutters.
Kate’s reaction makes me laugh.
“What’s so funny, Steele?” she snaps, but not seriously.
“I feel the same way.”
“You do?”
“Yes. She was all over Christian.”
“She had a fling with Elliot.” Kate pouts.
“No!”
She nods, her lips pressed together in the patented Katherine Kavanagh scowl.
