by E. L. James
“You look good,” he says.
“This is Kate’s dress.” I glance down at the gray chiffon halter-neck dress.
He frowns.
“Where is Kate?”
“She’s gone to campus. She’s giving a speech, so she has to be early.”
“Should we head on over?”
“Dad, we have half an hour. Would you like some tea? And you can tell me how everyone in Montesano is getting along. How was the drive down?”
RAY PULLS HIS CAR into the campus parking lot, and we follow the stream of humanity dotted with ubiquitous black and red gowns heading toward the gym.
“Good luck, Annie. You seem awfully nervous. Do you have to do anything?”
Holy crap … why has Ray picked today to be observant?
“No, Dad. It’s a big day.” And I’m going to see him.
“Yeah, my baby girl has gotten a degree. I’m proud of you, Annie.”
“Aw … thanks, Dad.” Oh, I love this man.
The gym is crowded. Ray has gone to sit with the other parents and well-wishers in the tiered seating, while I make my way to my seat. I’m wearing my black gown and my cap, and I feel protected by them, anonymous. There is no one on the stage yet, but I can’t seem to steady my nerves. My heart is pounding, and my breathing is shallow. He’s here, somewhere. I wonder if Kate is talking to him, interrogating him maybe. I make my way to my seat amongst fellow students whose surnames also begin with S. I am in the second row, affording me yet more anonymity. I glance behind me and spot Ray high up in the bleachers. I give him a wave. He self-consciously gives me a half-wave, half-salute back. I sit and wait.
The auditorium fills quickly, and the buzz of excited voices gets louder and louder. The row of seats in front fills. On either side of me, I am joined by two girls whom I don’t know from a different department. They’re obviously close friends and talk across me excitedly.
At eleven precisely, the chancellor appears from behind the stage, followed by the three vice chancellors and then the senior professors, all decked out in their black and red regalia. We stand and applaud our teaching staff. Some professors nod and wave, others look bored. Professor Collins, my tutor and my favorite teacher, looks like he’s just fallen out of bed, as usual. Last on to the stage are Kate and Christian. Christian stands out in his bespoke gray suit, copper highlights glinting in his hair under the auditorium lights. He looks so serious and self-contained. As he sits, he undoes his single-breasted jacket, and I glimpse his tie. Holy shit … that tie! I rub my wrists reflexively. I cannot take my eyes off him. He’s wearing that tie, on purpose no doubt. My mouth presses into a hard line. The audience sits down and the applause ceases.
“Look at him!” one of the girls beside me hisses enthusiastically to her friend.
“He’s hot.”
I stiffen. I’m sure they’re not talking about Professor Collins.
“Must be Christian Grey.”
“Is he single?”
I bristle. “I don’t think so,” I murmur.
“Oh.” Both girls look at me in surprise.
“I think he’s gay,” I mutter.
“What a shame,” one of the girls groans.
As the chancellor gets to his feet and kicks off the proceedings with his speech, I watch Christian subtly scanning the hall. I sink into my seat, hunching my shoulders, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. I fail miserably as a second later his eyes find mine. He stares at me, his face impassive, completely inscrutable. I squirm uncomfortably, hypnotized by his glare as a slow flush spreads across my face. Unbidden, I recall my dream from this morning, and the muscles in my belly do the delectable clench thing. I inhale sharply. The shadow of a smile crosses his lips, but it’s fleeting. He briefly closes his eyes and, on opening them, resumes his indifferent expression. Following a swift glance up at the chancellor, he stares ahead, focusing on the WSUV emblem hung above the entrance. He doesn’t turn his eyes toward me again. The chancellor drones on, and Christian still doesn’t look at me. He just stares fixedly ahead.
Why won’t he look at me? Perhaps he’s changed his mind? A wave of unease washes over me. Perhaps walking out on him last night was the end for him, too. He’s bored of waiting for me to make up my mind. Oh no, I could have completely blown it. I remember his e-mail last night. Maybe he’s mad that I haven’t replied.
Suddenly, the room erupts into applause as Miss Katherine Kavanagh has taken the stage. The chancellor sits, and Kate tosses her lovely long hair behind her as she places her papers on the lectern. She takes her time, not intimidated by a thousand people staring at her. She smiles when she’s ready, looks up at the captivated throng, and launches eloquently into her speech. She’s composed and funny, the girls beside me erupt on cue at her first joke. Oh, Katherine Kavanagh, you can deliver a good line. I am so proud of her at that moment, my errant thoughts of Christian pushed to one side. Even though I have heard her speech before, I listen carefully. She commands the room and takes her audience with her.
Her theme is “What Next After College?” Oh, what next indeed. Christian is watching Kate, his eyebrows raised—in surprise, I think. Yes, it could have been Kate who went to interview him. And it could have been Kate who he was now making indecent proposals to. Beautiful Kate and beautiful Christian, together. I could be like the two girls beside me, admiring him from afar. I know Kate wouldn’t have given him the time of day. What did she call him the other day? Creepy. The thought of a confrontation between Kate and Christian makes me uncomfortable. I have to say I don’t know which of them I would put my money on.
Kate concludes her speech with a flourish, and spontaneously everyone stands, applauding and cheering, her first standing ovation. I beam at her and cheer, and she grins back at me. Good job, Kate. She sits, as does the audience, and the chancellor rises and introduces Christian … Holy shit, Christian’s going to give a speech. The chancellor touches briefly on Christian’s achievements: CEO of his own extraordinarily successful company, a real self-made man.
“… and also a major benefactor to our university. Please welcome Mr. Christian Grey.”
The chancellor pumps Christian’s hand, and there is a swell of polite applause. My heart’s in my throat. He approaches the lectern and surveys the hall. He looks so confident standing in front of us all, as Kate did before him. The two girls beside me lean in, enraptured. In fact, I think most of the female members of the audience inch closer and a few of the men. He begins, his voice soft, measured, and mesmerizing.
“I’m profoundly grateful and touched by the great compliment accorded to me by the authorities of WSU today. It offers me a rare opportunity to talk about the impressive work of the environmental science department here at the university. Our aim is to develop viable and ecologically sustainable methods of farming for third world countries; our ultimate goal is to help eradicate hunger and poverty across the globe. Over a billion people, mainly in sub-Saharan Africa, South Asia, and Latin America, live in abject poverty. Agricultural dysfunction is rife within these parts of the world, and the result is ecological and social destruction. I have known what it’s like to be profoundly hungry. This is a very personal journey for me …”
My jaw falls to the floor. What? Christian was hungry once. Holy crap. Well, that explains a great deal. And I recall the interview; he really does want to feed the world. I desperately rack my brains to remember what Kate had written in her article. Adopted at age four, I think. I can’t imagine that Grace starved him, so it must have been before then, as a little boy. I swallow, my heart constricting at the thought of a hungry, gray-eyed toddler. Oh no. What kind of life did he have before the Greys got hold of him and rescued him?
I’m seized by a sense of raw outrage. Poor, fucked-up, kinky, philanthropic Christian—though I’m sure he wouldn’t see himself this way and would repel any thoughts of sympathy or pity. Abruptly, everyone bursts into applause and stands. I follow, though I haven’t heard half his speech. He�
��s doing all of these good works, running a huge company, and chasing me at the same time. It’s overwhelming. I remember the brief snippets of conversations he’s had about Darfur … it all falls into place. Food.
He smiles briefly at the warm applause—even Kate is clapping—then he resumes his seat. He doesn’t look my way, and I’m off-kilter trying to assimilate this new information about him.
One of the vice chancellors rises, and we begin the long, tedious process of collecting our degrees. There are more than four hundred to be given out, and it takes just over an hour before I hear my name. I make my way up to the stage between the two giggling girls. Christian gazes down at me, his look warm but guarded.
“Congratulations, Miss Steele,” he says as he shakes my hand, squeezing it gently. I feel the charge of his flesh on mine. “Do you have a problem with your laptop?”
I frown as he hands me my degree.
“No.”
“Then you are ignoring my e-mails?”
“I only saw the mergers and acquisitions one.”
He looks quizzically at me.
“Later,” he says, and I have to move on because I’m holding up the line.
I go back to my seat. E-mails? He must have sent another. What did it say?
The ceremony takes another hour to conclude. It’s interminable. Finally, the chancellor leads the faculty members off the stage to yet more rousing applause, preceded by Christian and Kate. Christian does not glance at me, even though I’m willing him to do it. My inner goddess is not pleased.
As I stand and wait for our row to disperse, Kate calls to me. She’s heading my way from behind the stage.
“Christian wants to talk to you,” she shouts. The two girls who are now standing beside me turn and gape at me.
“He’s sent me out here,” she continues.
Oh …
“Your speech was great, Kate.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” She beams. “Are you coming? He can be very insistent.” She rolls her eyes, and I grin.
“You have no idea. I can’t leave Ray for long.” I glance up at Ray and hold my fingers up indicating five minutes. He nods, giving me an okay sign, and I follow Kate into the corridor behind the stage. Christian is talking to the chancellor and two of the teaching staff. He looks up when he sees me.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I hear him murmur. He comes toward me and smiles briefly at Kate.
“Thank you,” he says, and before she can reply, he takes my elbow and steers me into what looks like a men’s locker room. He checks to see if it’s empty, and then he locks the door.
Holy shit, what does he have in mind? I blink up at him as he turns on me.
“Why haven’t you e-mailed me? Or texted me back?” He glares. I’m nonplussed.
“I haven’t looked at my computer today, or my phone.” Crap, has he been trying to call? I try my distraction technique that’s so effective on Kate. “That was a great speech.”
“Thank you.”
“Explains your food issues to me.”
He runs a hand through his hair, exasperated.
“Anastasia, I don’t want to go there at the moment.” He closes his eyes, looking pained. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“Worried, why?”
“Because you went home in that deathtrap you call a car.”
“What? It’s not a deathtrap. It’s fine. José regularly services it for me.”
“José, the photographer?” Christian’s eyes narrow, his face frosting. Oh, crap.
“Yes, the Beetle used to belong to his mother.”
“Yes, and probably her mother and her mother before her. It’s not safe.”
“I’ve been driving it for over three years. I’m sorry you were worried. Why didn’t you call?” Jeez, he’s completely overreacting.
He takes a deep breath.
“Anastasia, I need an answer from you. This waiting around is driving me crazy.”
“Christian, I … look, I’ve left my stepdad on his own.”
“Tomorrow. I want an answer by tomorrow.”
“Okay. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you then.”
He steps back, regarding me coolly, and his shoulders relax.
“Are you staying for drinks?” he asks.
“I don’t know what Ray wants to do.”
“Your stepfather? I’d like to meet him.”
Oh no … why?
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Christian unlocks the door, his mouth in a grim line.
“Are you ashamed of me?”
“No!” It’s my turn to sound exasperated. “Introduce you to my dad as what? ‘This is the man who deflowered me and wants us to start a BDSM relationship’? You’re not wearing running shoes.”
Christian glares down at me, and then his lips twitch up in a smile. And in spite of the fact I’m mad at him, my face is unwillingly pulled into an answering grin.
“Just so you know, I can run quite fast. Just tell him I’m your friend, Anastasia.”
He opens the door, and I head out. My mind is whirling. The chancellor, the three vice chancellors, four professors, and Kate stare at me as I walk hastily past them. Crap. Leaving Christian with the faculty, I go in search of Ray.
Tell him I’m your friend.
Friend with benefits, my subconscious scowls. I know, I know. I shake the unpleasant thought away. How will I introduce him to Ray? The hall is still at least half full, and Ray has not moved from his spot. He sees me, waves, and makes his way down.
“Hey, Annie. Congratulations.” He puts his arm around me.
“Would you like to come and have a drink in the marquee?”
“Sure. It’s your day. Lead the way.”
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Please say no …
“Annie, I’ve just sat for two and half hours listening to all kinds of jabbering. I need a drink.”
I put my arm through his, and we stroll out with the throng into the warmth of the early afternoon. We pass the line for the official photographer.
“Oh, that reminds me.” Ray drags a digital camera out of his pocket. “One for the album, Annie.” I roll my eyes at him as he snaps a picture of me.
“Can I take the cap and gown off now? I feel kind of dorky.”
You look kinda dorky … My subconscious is at her snarky best. So are you going to introduce Ray to the man you’re fucking? She is glaring at me over her wing-shaped spectacles. He’d be so proud. God, I hate her sometimes.
The marquee is immense and crowded—students, parents, teachers, and friends, all chattering happily. Ray hands me a glass of champagne, or cheap fizzy wine, I suspect. It’s not chilled, and it tastes sweet. My thoughts turn to Christian … he won’t like this.
“Ana!” I turn, and Ethan Kavanagh scoops me into his arms. He twirls me around, without spilling my wine—some feat.
“Congratulations!” He beams down at me, green eyes twinkling.
What a surprise. His dirty blond hair is tousled and sexy. He’s as beautiful as Kate. The family resemblance is striking.
“Wow—Ethan! How lovely to see you. Dad, this is Ethan, Kate’s brother. Ethan, this is my dad, Ray Steele.” They shake hands, my dad coolly assessing Mr. Kavanagh.
“When did you get back from Europe?” I ask.
“I’ve been back for a week, but I wanted to surprise my little sister,” he says conspiratorially.
“That’s so sweet.” I grin.
“She is valedictorian, couldn’t miss that.” He looks immensely proud of his sister.
“She gave a great speech.”
“That she did,” Ray agrees.
Ethan has his arm around my waist when I look up into the frosty gray eyes of Christian Grey. Kate is beside him.
“Hello, Ray.” Kate kisses Ray on both cheeks, making him blush. “Have you met Ana’s boyfriend? Christian Grey.”
Holy shit … Kate! Fuck! All the blood drains from my face.
&nbs
p; “Mr. Steele, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Christian says smoothly, warmly, completely unflustered by Kate’s introduction. He holds out his hand, which Ray, all credit to him, takes, not showing a hint of the drop-dead surprise he’s just had thrust upon him.
Thank you very much, Katherine Kavanagh, I fume. I think my subconscious has fainted.
“Mr. Grey,” Ray murmurs, his expression indecipherable except perhaps for the slight widening of his big brown eyes. They slide over to my face with a when-were-you-going-to-give-me-this-news look. I bite my lip.
“And this is my brother, Ethan Kavanagh,” says Kate to Christian.
Christian turns his arctic glare on Ethan, who still has one arm around me.
“Mr. Kavanagh.”
They shake hands. Christian holds his hand out to me.
“Ana, baby,” he murmurs, and I nearly expire at the endearment.
I walk out of Ethan’s grasp, while Christian smiles icily at him, and I take my place at his side. Kate grins at me. She knows exactly what she’s doing, the vixen!
“Ethan, Mom and Dad wanted a word.” Kate drags Ethan away.
“So how long have you kids known each other?” Ray looks impassively from Christian to me.
The power of speech has deserted me. I want the ground to swallow me up. Christian puts his arm around me, his thumb skimming my naked back in a caress, before his hand clasps my shoulder.
“Couple of weeks or so now,” he says smoothly. “We met when Anastasia came to interview me for the student newspaper.”
“Didn’t know you worked on the student newspaper, Ana.” Ray’s voice is a quiet admonishment, revealing his irritation. Shit.
“Kate was ill,” I murmur. It’s all I can manage.
“Fine speech you gave, Mr. Grey.”
“Thank you, sir. I understand that you’re a keen fisherman.”
Ray raises his eyebrows and smiles—a rare, genuine, bona fide Ray Steele smile—and off they go, talking fish. In fact, I soon feel surplus to requirements. He’s charming the pants off my dad … like he did you, my subconscious snaps at me. His power knows no bounds. I excuse myself to go and find Kate.
She’s talking to her parents, who are delightful as ever and greet me warmly. We exchange brief pleasantries, mostly about their up and coming vacation to Barbados and about our move.
