Chapter 16

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We only have about an hour to lay with one another until Christian has to return to his own apartment to get ready to leave for work. When the alarm he set on his iPhone goes off, he groans and rolls out of the bed.

“Maybe you should stay home today,” I suggest as I watch him sluggishly shrug into his jacket. “That’s two of the last three nights you haven’t slept at all. You look dead on your feet.”

“I can’t,” He croaks. “I have an important meeting this afternoon.”

“Christian, you look like you can barely stand…”

“I’ll be fine. I just need some coffee,” He says, and he kisses me on the forehead before turning and shuffling out of the room. I bite down on my lip, wondering if there is anyway I could change his mind, or if maybe Elliot or Taylor might be able to talk him into at least going in late this morning, but I know better. Once Christian has made up his mind, there’s no changing it.

I sigh heavily and get out of bed, making my way into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Thirty minutes later, there is a knock on my front door, so I set my curling iron down in the sink and hurry to answer it. When I open the door, I deflate a little as I’d been hoping it would be Christian deciding he wanted to sleep in this morning after all, but it’s not. It’s Prescott, looking stiff in her clean gray suit and staring down at me with a detached kind of deference.

“Are you ready, Miss Steele?” She asks, her flat, professional tone instantly reminding me why I preferred Luke over her as my personal security detail.

“Almost,” I tell her. “Come in. Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you, Miss Steele,” She says.

I step aside and she walks into the apartment, but stays close to the front door. I glance awkwardly back at her as I head back into the bathroom to finish getting ready and when I’m finished, and I return to the kitchen to make some breakfast, I notice that she hasn’t moved at all.

“Can I get you some coffee, uh… Prescott?” I ask, realizing that I don’t know her first name. I know Christian likes to address his staff by their surnames, but it feels weird to me.

“No, thank you, Miss Steele,” She says, and I frown as I turn around and turn on the coffee maker for myself.

“I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but what is your first name?” I ask.

“Samantha, ma’am.”

“Right. Well, Samantha, when did you get back from Cambridge?”

“A few days ago, ma’am.”

“And did you enjoy your time there? I’m not a big fan of the winters on the east coast but it’s lovely in the springtime. I love it when all the trees on campus are full and green again, it’s beautiful.”

She nods. She just… nods, and I turn back to the coffee pot, take a deep breath and try again.

“Luke told me when we first met that you like old movies? I have an obsession with old Hollywood. Luke always tells me that he can tell whether or not I’ll like a movie based on the amount of color in it. What are your favorites?”

“I’m sorry ma’am… I’m not really a fan of television or movies. I’ve always thought they were a waste of time, really. I’m your CPO so if you would like to stay in a watch a movie, I’d be happy to join you. I do need to get you to work now, though.”

“Yeah, maybe… another time,” I say grimly. I pick up my coffee cup and the sigh as I lead the way out to the elevator, feeling Prescott’s hawk like gaze on me all the way.

The drive to work is awkward. Prescott just stares at me the entire way, and if I don’t address her directly, she’s completely mute. It’s so weird that I can’t even enjoy listening to my favorite radio station because I feel to embarrassed to sing along with the music under her critical gaze. I’m actually glad to make it into the office this morning because it means Prescott has to go back into the security office, rather than hovering over me. I’d rather spend my morning listening to Leila pine over my boyfriend, than try and force anymore awkward conversation with my CPO.

It’s that bad.

“Ana!” Andrea says with obvious relief when I come through the doors. “Thank-god you’re here.”

“Hey, Andrea… what’s up?” I ask dubiously, a little stricken by the tension I see radiating off of her.

“Mr. Grey called and gave me a list of things he needs done this morning. Of course the operations meeting is this afternoon and I am still waiting on emails from four different department heads to put together the meeting agenda. I know it’s not your job, but I thought since you got that brand new car yesterday, you wouldn’t mind running a few errands for me?”

“Sure,” I shrug and then turn as the door opens behind me and Leila comes rushing in.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She cries as she scampers forward for her desk and Andrea glares at her.

“Of all days to be late, you choose today? The phone has already been ringing off the hook and Mr. Grey isn’t even here yet!”

“I know, I’m sorry…” Leila says, but that’s all she gets to say as the phone rings again.

I walk around the desk to put my things away and then sit down to start up my laptop while I wait for Andrea to give me her list of errands. As I scroll through the general company wide emails that are cluttering my inbox, Luke comes through the door with Ryan. I smile broadly at him as he approaches the desk.

“How’s it going, Steele?” He asks with a warm, wide grin that brings me right back to the days when he’d visit me in the library at Harvard.

“Better for me than some,” I tell him, nodding at Andrea scrolling through an email with one hand while trying to write her instructions for me with the other.

“Operations meeting,” Luke shrugs. “I’m glad Taylor deals with that so I don’t have to. Seems like a whole lot of pointless stress. How was your night?”

“Fine,” I reply, because I know work isn’t the best place to recount the events of the previous night. “You?”

“Good, I talked to Leah last night, that girl I told you about the other day.”

“And?” I ask excitedly.

“And, I’ve finished your list,” Andrea interrupts. “Sorry, Luke.”

“Nope, I get it,” He says, backing away and holding his hands, palm out, in front of him. “I’ll talk to you later, Ana.”

“Yeah…” I say regretfully and as I watch him walk away, I decide that I’m going to find a way to convince Christian that he should make Luke my CPO again. I’m not going to suffer through an entire summer of having Prescott follow me around when the person who was originally hired to do that, who I’d prefer to do that, is still on Christian’s payroll.

I take the list from Andrea and turn to close the lid of my laptop when, once again, I hear the lock on the door click open.

“Good Morning, Mr. Grey,” Leila says cheerfully as Christian and Taylor come through the door. I look up and examine him carefully, frowning as I realize that he doesn’t look much better than he did this morning. Though his suit is immaculate and his hair is in it’s usual sexy state of perfect disarray, he looks so tired it leaves an almost gaunt quality to his beautiful face. I am pleased to notice that at least Taylor looks a little concerned.

“Good Morning, Leila,” Christian replies dully, not stopping at her desk on his way to his office, and then he calls over his shoulder, “Coffee. I need coffee.”

“Don’t you dare get out of that seat,” Andrea threatens Leila once Christian is out of sight. “I do not have time to help you this morning.”

“The CEO has asked for coffee,” Leila says indignantly.

“I’ll get it for him,” I say, getting up and tucking the list of errands Andrea gave me into the pocket of my blazer. I head down the opposite hallway, waving through the door to a stressed looking Ros as I pass her office, and enter the break room. Once I’ve fired up the espresso maker, I begin searching through the cupboard for Christian’s preferred cup and then take milk out of the fridge to steam. I add an extra shot, knowing he’s going to need the pick me up, and then make my way to Christian’s office.

Christian is focused on the MacBook on his desk, and even though I can tell that focus is something he seems to be having difficulty maintaining, it’s enough that he doesn’t look up at me as I approach his desk.

“Here’s your coffee,” I say, as I set the cup on his desk.

“Thank you, baby… I mean, Miss Steele,” He says, shaking his head slightly as if to reorient himself. I look at him, concerned.

“Christian, you need sleep… you should go home.”

“I can’t today,” He says. “I’ll be fine, just keep the coffee coming.”

“You sure you don’t want something stronger?” I ask. “Adderall? Cocaine maybe?” He looks up and glares at me, and it’s then that I remember what he told me about his mother and his subsequent feelings towards drugs. Shit.

“Sorry, that was supposed to be a joke,” I tell him, backtracking. “I’ll go and get you another coffee… I should also tell you that Andrea is swamped preparing for your meeting so she’s asked me to take care of the list of errands that you gave her. I’m going to be out of the office all morning.”

“Just make sure you take security with you,” He says, and I promise him that I will before I fetch him another cup of coffee.

As I leave his office for the second time, I get an idea… I poke my head through the door of the security office down the hall and see Ryan, Prescott and Luke all focused on monitors displaying images from different parts of GEH.

“Hey, Luke?” I say, trying to get his attention. “Can you come with me for a bit?”

“Uh… sure?” He replies, locking the display on his monitor and following me out into the hall. “What’s up?”

“I have some errands to run this morning and Christian says I have to take security with me.” I tell him and he narrows his eyes at me.

“I think you’re supposed to take Prescott.”

“He didn’t say that. He said I was supposed to take security. You’re security.”

“I’m not your CPO anymore, Ana.”

“Well, I’m rejecting Prescott as my CPO. I’m not interested in having her tagging along with me everywhere that I go so either you can come with me or I’m going by myself. You choose.”

He hesitates for a moment, looking like he really isn’t sure which would be the worse outcome for him and then he sighs. “Fine, I’ll go with you, but you know that you’re going to get me fired, right?”

“Nonsense,” I tell him. “That’s the beauty in all of this. I have an in with boss.”

I smile broadly at him as he rolls his eyes and then walks with me through reception and into the elevator. As the doors close, I vaguely hear my phone buzz in my bag and I pull it out and see a new email.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: One more thing…

Date: May 25th 2010 09:45 AM

To: Anastasia Steele

I forgot to tell you, you look beautiful today. I love you, baby.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings INC

My heart melts a little at his sweet words and I smile as I hit reply.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Blushing

Date: May 25th 2010 09:46 AM

To: Christian Grey

Making me cry is not going to help me keep the secret. I can’t wait to get you home so I can show you exactly how I feel about you, Mr. Grey. Although that might have to wait until you get some sleep!

XX Your Ana

Anastasia Steele

Implementation Director, Grey Enterprises Holdings

The list that Andrea has given me is made up entirely of personal things: Pick up dry cleaning, order flowers to send to Grandma Trevelyan for her birthday… Luke and I even have to go back to Escala as Christian is having custom made shirts delivered today from Milan as well as several pieces of furniture.

“I don’t understand,” I tell Luke as I climb back into the Lincoln after spending nearly forty five minutes in Christian’s penthouse and enduring three different hysteric phone calls from Andrea asking when I was going to be back, “How could he possibly expect Andrea to get all of this done today and prepare for this meeting that seems to have everyone in a panic? Why would he schedule all of this for today?”

“Oh, I keep forgetting you’re new and haven’t realized yet that Mr. Grey sets unrealistic expectations for everyone around him.”

“Come on, Luke. That’s not fair…”

“It is though. Look, the guy is amazing. He regularly accomplishes the impossible, over and over again and it seems no matter how high the bar is set, he surpasses it. People should study him, like, biologically, just to make sure he isn’t secretly Kryptonian or something… but the problem with him being so good at everything, is that he expects the people around him to function at that same level of proficiency. He’s not the easiest guy to please.”

I purse my lips together as I think about Christian back at Harvard, constantly pushing Ros whether it was for their business plans or just to study. She never had any free time… well, until we started dating. Well, maybe now that we’re back together again, he’ll ease up on some of his employees the way he did with Ros.

When we get back to GEH, my phone rings again and when I look down and see Christian’s name on the screen, I answer immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask

“Anasta…a wh… the fu…k …re …ou?” I think he’s yelling but I don’t have any reception in the underground parking garage so I can’t really understand him.

“Christian?” I say, straining to hear him but as I step into the elevator, the phone beeps twice in my ear and the call drops. I figure it will be fine to simply wait til I’m back upstairs to ask him what he wanted but as the doors open on the eighth floor, I realize that was a mistake. I can’t distinguish what he’s saying through the glass doors, but I can hear him yelling at Andrea. He stops though the second he hears the electronic beep and the sound of the lock opening on the door and he turns cold eyes on Luke and I.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I step into the entryway, but I stop moving when I look down and see Christian’s hands shaking.

“Sawyer,” He says, in a deathly calm, even tone. “Go pack your things, you’re fired.”

“What!” I exclaim, and when Luke takes a deep steeling breath next to me and then nods before attempting to walk deliberately towards the security office. I reach out to grab him and hold him in place as I glare at Christian.

“Christian…” I begin but he silences me.

Miss Steele,” He says harshly, emphasizing the words to demonstrate my lack of decorum. “We need to have a conversation. My office. Now.”

I swallow hard as Christian turns and storms back towards his office and do my best to ignore the eyes of everyone in the room on me.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I say to Luke. “I’ll fix this, just… go back to your office and stay there for awhile.”

Luke looks at me doubtfully but I give him, what I hope is, a reassuring nod and then I straighten up and follow after Christian.

“Looks like we’re getting a new intern…” I hear Leila say quietly behind me, and I’m pleased to hear that she at least sounds a little regretful.

I pause for brief second outside of Christian’s office door to prepare myself for the anger I know is waiting for me. So I took Luke instead of Prescott… that’s not a crime and definitely not a reason Luke should lose his job. He’s a security officer, he was ensuring my security. I nod at my own affirmation and slowly open the door. I’m caught unprepared though as before I even step inside, Christian reaches out, yanks me into the room, then slams the door closed and locks it behind me.

“What do you think you’re doing, Anastasia?” He growls at me.

“You told me to take security with me.”

“I meant, Prescott! Prescott is your CPO.”

“I don’t want Prescott, Christian. I want Luke.”

His jaw tenses and then his hands fly up to the side of my face, reaching up into my hair to hold me in place as he pushes me into the wall at my back while his lips come crashing down on mine.

I feel his teeth scrape against my bottom lip, pulling my mouth open so his tongue can invade me. I whimper slightly, out of shock more than anything, but he doesn’t ease back. His lips are hard and insistent, his tongue unrelenting as it entwines with mine. He moans a deep, sexy sound as he claims me and even though I’m here to make a stand for Luke, his ferocity still elicits a deep shiver of desire within me that rattles my core. When at last he breaks away from the kiss and I look up at him, out of breath, but determined.

“Please, Christian,” I plead with him. “I don’t want Prescott. I don’t like being around her. She’s weird and awkward and boring and she makes me uncomfortable. Luke’s my best friend, he knows me and he gets me and I like being around him. If you expect me to take security with me everywhere I go, why can’t it be him?”

“I don’t trust him around you.”

“We’re just friends, Christian! Seriously, yesterday when you told the security team we were back together, he was happy for us. He knows that I want you, he’s not interested in me that way at all. He’s like a brother to me, like Elliot. You trusted him to protect me for almost two years, you can trust him now.”

“I did trust him,” Christian says darkly. “And he broke that trust when he took you to Vermont last spring.”

“What would you have had him do?” I ask angrily. “I was going with or without him. I could have climbed that mountain alone if that’s how you would have preferred it?”

“Anastasia…”

“This is my condition, Christian. I don’t want security and the only way that I’ll be okay with having a CPO at all, is if it’s Luke. Besides, wouldn’t you rather me hang out with him during the day when you’re at work rather than at night when I could be with you?”

He frowns but I think I’m getting through to him.

“Please, Christian,” I implore him. “He’s good at his job. I feel safe with him and you should too. He cares about me as more than just a client and if you’re really afraid for my safety, you should know that Luke’s friendship means that he will protect me better than anyone else on your security team. The only person I could be safer with than Luke Sawyer is you… And maybe Batman,” I add hoping to coax a smile out of him and surprisingly, it works.

“Just friends?”

“Just friends.” I confirm.

“Fine,” He concedes. “But no more of this sneaking out together business, I don’t care if it is for dry cleaning.”

“Don’t be dramatic, we didn’t sneak out,” I tell him, and then I smile at him. “I really like your new dining room table. It has… possibilities.”

He smirks and then turns around, unlocks the door, and then walks back to his desk, holding down a button on his phone until we hear Taylor’s voice.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Taylor will you send Sawyer in here please?”

“Right away, sir,” Taylor replies and we both sit on the edge of his desk, Christian slumping over a little as the anger recedes and is immediately replaced by exhaustion again, and wait for Luke. He knocks on the door and when Christian tells him to come in he looks dubiously between the two of us.

“Sir?” Sawyer asks and Christian crosses his arms, looking sternly at Luke as he speaks.

“I’m reinstating you as Miss Steele’s CPO. Immediately. You can let Prescott know.”

“Really? Uh… Thank-you, sir,” Luke says, unbelieving, and I smile at him. I told him I would make this right, didn’t I?”

“Fine,” Christian replies. “But Sawyer, if anything happens again like what happened in Cambridge, you will be out of a job this time.”

“Yes, sir,” Luke says, nodding as he turns around and quickly leaves the office, presumably so that Christian can’t change his mind.

“Thank-you,” I tell him, leaning over and kissing him gently on the lips.

“Behave,” He replies, moving me away from him. “The door is unlocked after all and your dining room table comment has left me with all kinds of ideas.”

“I apologize, Mr. Grey,” I say sweetly, and he grins and then stands, close enough to me that he’s only just not touching me.

“Tonight though, Miss Steele, I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name and everyone living in Escala knows mine,” He says, in a low, throaty voice and it sends a wave of heat over me that pools in the deepest parts inside of me.

“Promises, Promises, Mr. Grey,” I tell him and I purposefully bite down on my lip as I turn around and saunter out of his office.

Taking a second to pull myself together, I lean back against Christian’s door, smiling to myself at the sensual threat that I truly hope he makes good on, and then walk back out to reception where I see Andrea frantically collecting things off of her desk and checking things off the list she has taped to the counter.

“What happened?” Leila asks, as she hangs up the phone and turns to look at me.

“Nothing, it was a misunderstanding,” I reply and she looks at me curiously.

“So, you’re not fired?” Andrea asks, a hint of hope in her voice.

“No, I’m not fired,” I tell her and she exhales with relief.

“Oh thank god, I only have fifteen minutes before everyone starts showing up. I need your help.” She tells me.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’ve just finished putting together the agenda, will you make like… twenty copies of it? I’ll need you to staple them and leave one at each place around the table in the big conference room. Shoot, they’ll need water too. Go into the break room, there should be water bottles in the refrigerator. Miss Bailey likes lime with her water, so use the limes out of the bottom drawer, you’ll have to cut them up. Mr. Grey likes sparkling water, there should be Perrier in there too. He takes his with lemon and he’ll want a glass with ice. Everyone else can just have the regular bottled water. Oh, and pens and notepads. Make sure there is one at every seat.”

I watch her eyes dart frantically back and forth as she tries to think of anything she’s missed, and as she reaches out to hand me the files in her hand, she lets them go before I have hold of them and they fall to the ground, spreading haphazardly across the floor.

“No!” She cries, and she falls to her knees to put everything back in the right order. I kneel down to help her and just as Leila turns to help as well, the sound of the lock opening on the main door distracts her and she turns to look at whoever it is who has entered.

“Oh, good morning, Mrs. Lincoln,” She says and I stop, feeling as though my blood has just gone cold.

“Good Morning, Leila,” Elena’s sickeningly familiar voice responds. “Is Mr. Grey in his office?”

“I believe so,” Leila replies. “Would you like me to let him know you’re here?”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m just going to pop in and say hello before the meeting,” She replies and I drop the papers in my hand and stand up from behind the desk. Elena turns to look at me and her smile falters when she realizes who I am.

“Anastasia,” She says, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” I reply coldly.

“Really?” She asks and then, as if she’s realized the pleasant facade that she’s trying to maintain has slipped, she straightens her posture and smiles sweetly at me. “I thought you were at Harvard?”

“It’s summer break,” I reply, not returning her saccharin disposition. “I’m here as Christian’s intern.”

“I’m surprised. I didn’t realize you and Christian were on speaking terms again.”

“Well, Elena, there might be a lot that you don’t realize. There have been changes over the last few weeks that you’re probably not aware of.”

I watch her nostrils flare as she takes a deep breath in through her nose and swallows the vitriol I know she wants to spit back at me. Instead she smiles again and then turns to walk down the hallway towards Christian’s office. I grind my teeth together and as I turn to see if Andrea has all of the papers sorted out, I see Leila giving me a dubious look out of the corner of her eye.

“Look, I know you probably just saved your job… Can I… make a suggestion?” She asks, and I raise an eyebrow at her. “Look, obviously you know who Mrs. Lincoln is, I guess like you seem to know everyone else, but she’s really not a person you want to be on the bad side of if you want to keep working here. I’m Mr. Grey’s fourth receptionist in the last two years and I’ve been here 11 months. The first one and the one before me are gone because Mrs. Lincoln didn’t like them. She’s… close to Mr. Grey.”

“What do you mean close?” I ask, prying now.

“Well, she seems to have more of a presence around here than any of the other department heads and she doesn’t even work in this building. She’s the only person Mr. Grey will meet outside of the office for a meeting and she’s the only one besides Miss Bailey who can openly question him and not be berated or fired. Look, I know she’s… fake, but you’ll save yourself a lot of trouble if you just bite the bullet and suck up to her a little bit. I’ve just started to like you, Ana. I don’t want to see you run off like all the other girls that come through here.”

“I’m not worried about Elena Lincoln,” I tell her firmly as I turn and march purposefully around the desk.

“Ana, I really wouldn’t…” Leila calls, but I ignore her.

Christian’s door is closed, and as uncomfortable as that makes me, I find myself pausing and then stopping to listen as I hear their voices coming through the door.

“I’m just surprised is all,” Elena says. “The last time I talked to you, she still wasn’t answering your calls.”

“Well, she did,” Christian replies shortly.

“Are you… I mean, she said she’s working here, but are you two… sleeping together again?”

“That’s none of your business, Elena. My sex life does not concern you.”

“I know… but I came early today to tell you that I met a girl that I think you’d really like. She’s younger than you are, nineteen, but she’s in the lifestyle and she’s experienced. She’s a gymnast, very flexible. I thought you might like to meet her for lunch.”

“I’m not interested.”

“That’s fine,” Elena concedes. “I suppose that means that you at least intend to try and mend things with Anastasia? How’s that going? Has she gotten over what happened? I mean, I know you love her but I worry that maybe her proclivity to run away from you every time the going gets tough, will end up hurting you again. You know how much it pains me to see you wounded.”

I swallow the bile that crawls into my throat and shove open the door. The second I step into the office, Christian bolts out of his seat and Elena turns around, taking a deep, agitated breath when she sees me.

“Get away from him,” I say darkly, and the anger I feel at seeing the two of them together for the first time since the trial has me physically shaking.

“Anastasia…” Elena begins, but I cut her off.

“No,” I say firmly. “You don’t get to be alone with him anymore. Get out.”

“Excuse me?” She asks, turning incredulous eyes on Christian.

“Don’t look at him. I’m not talking to Christian right now, I’m talking to you, Elena, and I’m telling you that you need to leave.”

She doesn’t turn to look at me, her eyes are piercing into Christian as if she’s expecting him to defend her and the confidence she exudes actually sends a shock of fear through me. Is he going to defend her? Surely, after last night, he couldn’t…

He glances between the two of us and then takes a deep breath and stares intently back into her hard gaze.

“The meeting starts in eleven minutes, Elena,” He says calmly. “You can wait in reception.”

I see the carefully constructed look of composure on her face falter slightly as she realizes she’s being dismissed but it’s back just as quickly as it left.

“Of course,” She says graciously, and as she turns for the door she smiles at me. “The past two years have been good to you, Anastasia. You look fantastic. It really is a pleasure to see you again.”

I raise a disgusted eyebrow at her as she sashays out of the office and then turn to look at Christian who is looking at me pointedly.

“I told you,” He says. “She doesn’t mean anything to me. She’s a business associate, Anastasia.”

“I don’t want you alone with her,” I tell him. “I don’t want you to talk to her at all.”

“I promise, Anastasia. You don’t have to worry about her anymore. I’m in control now.”

I exhale sharply, but decide, like Flynn did last night, I should take the small victory. He did ask her to leave. He wasn’t inviting to her, he wasn’t particularly kind to her. He treated her like an employee, nothing more, and he sent her away. That’s acceptable. For now.

With just under ten minutes left until the meeting starts, I’m able to make copies for Andrea and set up the conference room as she asked. I’m just placing a slice of lemon over the rim of Christian’s glass as a group of men and women dressed in expensive suits file into the room and I smile as I realize that one of them is Elliot.

Andrea moves stealthily towards the back of the room to take a seat and as she pulls out her iPad, I move to sit next to her. Everyone takes their place around the table, leaving the seat at the head open, until Christian comes in the room. I can tell he’s trying to hide his exhaustion as his eyes sweep over everyone, and when he settles down into his chair and casually flips through the agenda on the table in front of him, he briefly glances up at Elena, who is seated directly on his right.

“Mrs. Lincoln, you need to move down to the end of the table,” He says and she furrows her brow. I watch as every one of GEH’s executives, including Ros, glance nervously in Christian’s direction. Some even look shocked, as if his statement was the equivalent of striking her across the face.

“Mr. Grey?” Elena asks in a tone that suggests she’s sure that she must have heard him incorrectly.

“Move. Now,” He says, more firmly this time and now she looks shocked. Still, once she’s gathered herself, she gets out of her seat and moves to the only empty place left at the table.

“Miss Steele?” Christian says, gesturing to the empty seat with his eyes before he looks back down at the papers in front of him. Andrea raises an eyebrow at me, mirroring the confused expressions of everyone seated at the table, as I quickly get out of my seat and make my way to the chair next to Christian. I glance back at Elena and see her glaring so fiercely at me, I wonder if she’s trying to strangle me with her mind Darth Vader style.

“Alright, let’s make this quick,” Christian begins. “We’ll start with construction. Grey, where are we at with the new building?”

I turn to look at Elliot, seated across the table from me next to Ros and he has to peel his gaze away from Elena to answer Christian’s question. Clearly, he was not expecting to see her here and he isn’t happy about it.

“The permits were approved by the city last week, we broke ground yesterday,” Elliot says, his tone clipped. “Work on the substructure should begin by Friday morning.”

“Good, I want Taylor to work with you and the architect through every step of the process. There are blind spots in this building that I’d like to avoid in the new construction.”

“Sure,” Elliot shrugs and Christian looks irritably up at him, clearly displeased by his less the formal response, but Elliot isn’t paying attention. He looks over at Elena again, then back at me, and then back at Elena. I give him an I-know-and-I’m-not-happy-about-it-either kind of look, and then turn to Christian who reluctantly moves on.

“Barney, how are we on the GPS upgrade R&D has been working on?” He asks.

There is a sense of tension around the table as Christian moves from department head to department head. He’s firm and almost short with each update he gets and I don’t know if that’s because he’s tired, or if that’s the norm. He does seem to ask a lot of questions that catch his staff off guard and when anyone poses a problem, he’s the one to come up with a solution almost every time. I’m also shocked to hear how well every department seems to be doing and the innovating things they’re working on. I’m realizing, as I’m watching Christian navigate his business, that this is his element. He really is good at this.

“Alright. Esclava,” He says, and he turns his expectant gaze on Elena.

“It’s been a good quarter,” Elena replies tersely, obviously still a little upset about Christian’s dismissal of her at the beginning of the meeting. She passes two blue files up for Christian and Ros to look at as she continues. “Our repeat clientele has increased twelve percent over the last three months and our profits are nearly twenty five percent higher than what we projected.”

“How?” Ros asks, astonished, as she glances at the financial summary in her hand.

“We’ve brought on some new staff in the past few months. I credit a lot of repeat business to their talent. As Mr. Grey says, it’s all about people.”

“And you think this surge of profitability is sustainable?” Christian asks dubiously.

“Absolutely,” Elena assures him. “In fact, I think we’re ready to open a third location. I’ve taken it upon myself to conduct a market survey of the area and we’ve found an available space that we believe is in a prime area while also being extremely affordable. If you’ll just look at page three…”

“Bellevue?” Christian interrupts when he turns the page and Elena smiles.

“The Bravern Center. High traffic, low overhead, high income clientele. I know it well, as should you Mr. Grey. You grew up only a few minutes away from there yourself.”

Christian is quiet for a moment while both he and Ros read over the files in their hands again.

“The numbers don’t lie…” Ros says, eventually. “This is impressive.”

“Fine,” Christian says. “We’ll move on Bravern then.”

“Excellent,” Elena says happily. “I’ll have Andrea schedule a meeting, Mr. Grey.”

“You’ll have to have her schedule it with Miss Bailey,” He replies, uninterestedly as he pushes Elena’s file aside and picks up Andrea’s agenda again.

“What?” Ros asks.

“You’re taking over Esclava. Going forward, Mrs. Lincoln will report to you,” Christian tells her, and then he turns to face the table as a whole. “There are going to be some organizational changes, due in large part to a recent acquisition we have made. As of June first, GEH will take possession of Seattle Independent Publishing. It’s a small publishing firm grown right here in Seattle but it’s on the verge of bankruptcy. We’re going to make them successful again and I’m excited about the opportunities acquiring a publishing press will afford GEH. This is something different than anything we’ve ever done before, but I’m confident in the abilities of our new intern and implementation director, Miss Anastasia Steele, to bring SIP up to GEH standards.”

“What? Me?” I ask, shocked. What does he mean me? I’ve written one book and I haven’t even begun the publication process yet. I don’t know anything about the publishing industry, and I certainly don’t know anything about saving a company from bankruptcy…

“Yes, you,” Christian says. “You’ll meet with the SIP executive team Thursday and be permanently moved into their building at the beginning of next week.”

“But I-” I begin but he cuts me of.

“Is there a problem, Miss Steele?” He asks in his most authoritative CEO tone and I know this is not the time to express my doubt.

“No, Mr. Grey,” I reply meekly and he nods.

“Good. Then we’ll get you everything we have on SIP and you can start your proposal immediately. You’ll also be reporting to Miss Bailey for the duration of this implementation.”

“What?” Ros snaps. “I thought you were handling SIP?”

“No, you’re handling SIP. Miss Steele will report directly to you.”

“Christian, with all due respect, I don’t have the capacity to oversee SIP, Esclava and the state project…”

“I’m taking the state project,” Christian interrupts her.

“You do understand the magnitude of that project? There’s no way that you have time to…” Ros argues, but Christian silences her with a look. She purses her lips and stares angrily down at the papers in front of her.

“Any other concerns?” Christian asks, looking around the table but every single person diverts their eyes away from him, unwilling to question him in his increasingly agitated state. “Good, then we’ll call it a meeting.”

The room is filled with the sound of chairs rolling over the stone floor and shuffling papers as everyone around the table stands and begins collecting their things and I covertly lean over to Christian.

“Christian, this isn’t a good idea,” I hiss at him. “I don’t know the first thing…”

“I’ll help you,” He dismisses me in a low voice so that no one else can hear. “Ros will help you. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

I furrow my brow as now that I finally know what I’ll actually be doing this summer, I really get to think about what this internship means. On the one hand, this is a huge responsibility and if I pull it off, it’s going to look really great on my resume. I’d graduate next year with invaluable real world experience… However, it also has the potential to make me a punchline in the publishing industry if I fail and after all the hard work I’ve put in at Harvard, that thought is nauseating.

I reach down and pick up the papers in front of me as Elliot comes around the table and leans into Christian.

“Can I talk to you in your office for a minute?” He asks, and I’m surprised slightly by the edge to his tone.

“Yes,” Christian agrees. “I need to talk to you too.” Christian steps aside to let Elliot pass and then exits the room behind him. Once I’ve gathered my things, I weave my way through the few people left dawdling in the conference room to catch up with Ros.

“Oh good, Ana,” She says, pausing before she steps into her office. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t offend you back there… I just thought Christian was going to handle your internship. If I would have known he was planning to shift this onto me, then I would have met with you sooner. I have another meeting to get to now, but reserve some time on my calendar and we’ll go over the implementation process together.”

“Ros, I’m not going to lie, I’m really not sure about this…”

“Don’t worry,” She assures me. “Don’t tell anyone, but our jobs are really not that difficult. You’ve got the GEH name behind you and that goes a long way. I’ll be with you every step of the way, and I won’t let you fail, Ana. I promise.”

“Okay,” I say gratefully and as she heads into her office, I make my way back to my laptop to find as much open time on her calendar as I can. When I get behind the counter though, I look up and see Elena step up to the desk, smiling down at Andrea who is sitting next to me.

“I’m going to need to schedule some time with Miss Bailey,” She tells Andrea, saying Ros’s name as if it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. “And would you check Mr. Grey’s schedule for me? I’d like to have a lunch with him later in the week.”

Andrea pulls up both Christian and Ros’s calendars and frowns. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Lincoln, it looks like Mr. Grey is all booked up, but I can get you some time with Miss Bailey on Friday.”

“Fine,” Elena says. “I’ll just have to see if I can catch Mr. Grey at home.” She gives both Andrea and Leila one last smile before turning tight eyes on me and then she makes her way towards the elevators.

“I’ve got to send out some post meeting emails,” Andrea tells me, “Will you take the meeting minutes back to Mr. Grey?”

“Sure,” I tell her, taking the printed copy of her notes out of her hands. “I’ll be right back.” I get out of my chair, but before I make my way back to Christian’s office, I walk towards the main glass doors. I know Christian isn’t going to give me very opportunities to be alone with Elena, and I really need to lay some things out for her.

“I know what you’re doing,” I say coldly when the door closes behind me.

“Do you?” She asks, turning away from the elevator to face me. The pseudo warmth is gone from both her expression and her tone, but she looks a little shaken up.

“This whole, it hurts me to see you wounded nonsense, is complete bullshit. I get what you’re doing now and you’re right, Elena. You know him, maybe better than anyone else knows him. I didn’t want to believe that was true last time, but it is, and you use that to control him. He’s happy right now and you know that trying to disrupt that will cause him to push you away. So you’re going to sit and wait for something to happen that makes him feel like he’s losing control or for me to slip up and leave him vulnerable again and once that happens, you’ll make your move. But it’s not going to work this time. I’m not underestimating you anymore, Elena, and I’m not going to run like I did last time. I’m not only fighting against you anymore, I’m fighting for him. He has me and his family back on his side and we’re going to make it our sole mission to get him away from you, no matter what it takes.”

I watch her inhale through her nose as my words wash over her and am a little pleased that when she speaks again, she seems slightly unnerved.

“You think you have it all figured out, Anastasia? That maybe Harvard has finally made you clever enough to out maneuver me? If you really believe that you’re going to get him away from me, then you’re in for another rude awakening. You have no idea what you did to him when you left him. He doesn’t trust anyone anymore, except for me. I’m all he has. I don’t need you to slip up, Anastasia. Eventually, his paranoia and need for control will get the better of him and he’ll drive you and his family away again and he’ll come back to me the way he always does. That’s just the way it is. That’s who he is and he proved that to you two years ago. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“It’s already changing Elena and I think you can see that. You talk a big game but I can hear the fear in your voice. You’re threatened by me and you should be. I’m going to beat you.”

“Anastasia, didn’t I teach you this lesson last time? You can’t beat me. Do you know why I know him better than any of you? It’s because I’ve created him. I don’t just control him, I own him. Consider this a warning. You’re not going to take him away from me and if you try, I’m going to hurt you again. This is my game, Anastasia, and behind all this bravado you’re trying to put up, you’re just a scared little girl who doesn’t have what it takes to play.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore and I’m not afraid of you. If you want to play games, Elena, consider me all in,” I snap at her, and I turn back into the office, refusing to look back at her as I storm towards Christian’s office. The door is closed but since I know it’s only Elliot inside, I don’t knock. I’m surprised though, when I open the door and see Elliot getting out of the seat across from Christian and walking around the desk. Christian reaches out his hand for Elliot, who then pulls him into a hug.

“There’s nothing to forgive. I’m just happy to have you back,” Elliot says, quietly. “We missed you, Christian. We love you.”

“Still,” Christian says, “I’m sorry, Elliot. I didn’t realize at the time…”

“I know,” Elliot cuts him off. “And we understand that. But now that you can see it clearly, we can move forward as a family.”

“I’d like that,” Christian says and then he glances over Elliot’s shoulder and sees me hovering in the doorway.

“Anastasia?”

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, “Andrea just asked me to bring you the minutes she took in the meeting.”

“Hey, Ana!” Elliot exclaims, his tone laced with the undertone of guilt one might expect from a child being caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. “We’re just in here talking about man shit, you know, beer, sports, hot chicks…”

“Sure, Elliot,” I say, rolling my eyes. I smile as I see Christian mirror my reaction before he yawns.

“I don’t have anything else on my schedule this afternoon that won’t keep until tomorrow,” He says. “I’m going to head home for the rest of the day.”

“Good, you look like hell, man,” Elliot says. “And I’ve got to get back down to the job site. My skyscraper isn’t going to build itself.”

“Your skyscraper?” Christian asks.

“Yeah, I’m going to put my name in big bold letters right over the front doors,” Elliot replies and surprisingly, Christian chuckles.

As Christian closes his laptop and organizes the last few things on his desk, Elliot turns for the door, but he stops when he gets to me and then wraps me in a huge, lung crushing hug.

“Thank-you, Ana,” He says. “I always knew it would be you, and I was right. You gave me my brother back. I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Elliot,” I assure him and he smiles.

“You’re never allowed to go anywhere again, do you understand me? If he doesn’t marry you, I might have to, just to keep you around.”

“I think Kate might have opinions on that,” I say with a laugh.

“I also have opinions on that,” Christian says, looking up from the paper in his hands, clearly not amused.

“Then lock this shit down, Christian,” Elliot hisses over his shoulder. He turns back to me and winks before wishing us both a good afternoon and disappearing through the door. Christian makes his way around the desk and he too wraps me in his arms.

“Come home with me?” He asks.

“You need sleep, and me going home with you would be counterproductive to that,” I say pointedly. “Besides, apparently I have a publishing company to research.”

“That you do, Miss Steele,” He says. “You’ll come over tonight?”

“Of course I will,” I assure him.

“Good. I love you, baby,” He says and I moan appreciatively as he presses his lips into mine.

“I know you’re tired, Mr. Grey, but let’s not forget where we are,” I warn him teasingly and he smiles down at me.

“I’ll see you tonight,” He says and I turn and watch him walk out the door before placing the minutes Andrea took on his desk and then heading back out to finish my work day.

When I get back to Escala that night, Christian is still asleep so I head back to my apartment, change out of my work clothes, gather everything I need to get ready for the next day, and grab a book I’ve been meaning to read before returning to the penthouse.

By the time ten o’clock rolls around, I realize that Christian isn’t going to get up, which probably isn’t a bad thing considering how much sleep he’s actually lost over the past few days. When I’m ready to call it a night, I mark my place in my book and then head into his bedroom to crawl into bed with him. He doesn’t wake as I ease myself under the covers and as I stare at his beautiful face, finally serene in sleep, I resist the urge to kiss him since I don’t want to wake him. Instead, I turn over onto my side and close my eyes, but after only a minute or so of lying there in the dark, waiting for sleep to overtake me, I feel his arms wrap around me and from somewhere in the subconscious of his dreams he mumbles:

“My Ana.”

It’s still dark when I’m stirred awake a few hours later and I’m surprised to find the bed empty next to me. I can hear the soft tinkling notes of the piano drifting in from the living room, so I climb out of bed, take one of the robes off the back of the bathroom door and wrap it around myself as I make my way out to the piano.

Christian is sitting in the dark with the piano lid closed, and he’s fully absorbed in the music he coaxes from the keys. I stand there, holding the robe that smells like him tightly around me, watching him for a minute and when I hear the tempo slow and the forte of the notes begin to wane, I move forward, stopping only once I’m standing next to him.

“That’s beautiful. What is it?”

“Chopin,” He replies.

He pulls me in front of him so that I’m standing between his legs and leaning against the piano keys which let out a cacophonous sound as my behind presses into them. He holds me by the waist, rubbing his thumbs over the soft cashmere robe that envelopes me.

“I was just thinking about your book. Anastasia… I’m so sorry, I didn’t…” He begins but I put a finger to his lips.

“Don’t,” I tell him, the sadness in his voice now reflected in mine. “This is why I didn’t want you to read the book, Christian. It’s over, we can move past it. I don’t want to relive this over and over again… I forgive you, Christian.”

He rests his head against my stomach, letting out a long low breath and I run my fingers through his hair comfortingly until he sits up and looks at me longlingly. Then, slowly, his hands move from my waist to the ties that are holding my robe in place and with nimble fingers he unravels the knot and pulls my robe open. He leans forward and kisses my stomach, his hand gently brushing up my exposed sides towards my bra, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. When he pulls his lips away from my body, his eyes rake over me, examining me as if he’s admiring a rare work of art, and then he stands, kisses me once and then lifts me onto the lid of his piano.

“I want you,” He whispers.

“Me too,” I reply.

I stare back into his eyes as he reaches up to brush my hair back from my face and takes my lips with his. His tongue brushes lightly against my bottom lip until I grant him access and as our tongues move together in sensual synchrony, his fingers twist into the roots of my hair and he tugs gently so that my head falls back, leaving my neck exposed to him. I feel his hands pull my legs apart as he moves closer into me, and my back arches up towards him as he begins leaving a trail of sensual kisses down my neck, between my breasts… until I’m lying flat, sprawled out over the piano.

My feet press into the keys, filling the apartment with the sound of discordant, inharmonious notes, but it’s almost an erotic manifestation of the way he holds me, the way his hands feel as they move over my body. As he leaves gentle kisses along the line of my hip bones, his thumb pushes past my lips and over my tongue and I suck on him, gently. After a moment he drags his thumb, wet with my saliva down through my cleavage towards my belly button and once he gets there, he leans down and traces the line he left with his tongue. As he moves, his hands pull me up so that my back is arched off the piano and he unhooks my bra, pulling it away from me and then moves his lips to my breast.

I moan at the delicious contact and then gasp as his fingers move down, pull my panties aside and he gently strokes my lips.

“Ah!” I cry out as his teeth graze my nipple while he simultaneously dips his fingers inside of me.

“That’s it, baby,” He cajoles me. “Feel this. Feel what I can do to you.”

“Oh god!” I moan as his thumb begins circling my clitoris in time with the movements of his fingers pumping in and out of me.

“Mmm,” He moans, and then leans down to take my nipple in his mouth once more. He slides another finger inside of me, stretching me and pushing me closer and closer to the edge of release. My hands fly out over the unrelenting surface of his piano, looking for something to grab hold of but there is nothing. I’m spiraling out of control, desperately climbing higher and higher until I’m sure I’m going to explode and just as I’m about to reach the point of no return, he stops and he pulls his fingers out of me.

“Christian…” I whimper and he shakes his head.

“Not yet, baby. I want to be inside of you when you come. I want to feel it,” He tells me and he reaches up and takes his fingers, slick with my arousal into his mouth. “Mmm… So sweet,” He adds approvingly.

“Take me, Christian,” I beg and he groans.

“I wanted your mouth, Anastasia, but I’m not as patient as I once was,” He says and I bite down on my lip as I watch him guide his erection out of his pajama bottoms towards my center, where he strokes himself over my entrance. “Fuck, you’re really wet baby. Is this for me?”

“Yes,” I whisper, the need in my voice overtly apparently.

“You’re so fucking hot like this, Anastasia,” He says, and without warning he thrusts forward, burying himself fully inside of me and I cry out at the harsh but welcome intrusion. “That’s it, baby, take it.”

“Oh god, yes!” I moan and he growls.

“Say my name, Anastasia.”

“Christian.”

“Louder,” He commands, making me cry out as he increases his pace and the ferocity of his thrusts. “Scream for me, baby.”

“Oh fuck, Christian!” I yell and he lets out a deep, sexy sound from low in his throat as he leans over, slamming into the keys of the piano with each savage thrust. I feel my insides start to quicken with my impending orgasm and as my cries grow louder and my words become more jumbled, he realizes how close I really am and he slows his pace.

“No, Christian,” I complain but he smiles down at me wickedly.

“Too soon, baby,” He tells me. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet and I plan on coming with you. I want you to build slow so that you come so hard you feel it everywhere when you find your release. I want to take my time with you. I want you to be so sore tomorrow, that every time you move you’ll think about this, about me inside of you.”

I pant as my unquenched desire flames through my body so hot it feels as though my blood begins to boil and every nerve ending in my body is alight with anticipation. I can’t take the delayed gratification any longer, it’s nearly torture to be so tightly bound and on the edge of ecstasy but finding release just out of reach. He says he wants to come with me, then I’m going to make him come.

I reach down and grip the edge of the piano and use it to push myself into him, grinding on him as I move my hips around in a slow, sensual circle. I see his mouth open in a silent gasp of pleasure and he reaches down to to hold my hips in place to stop me. I’m not deterred though. Since he’s holding me still, I clench the muscles inside of me, gripping him tightly again and again, and the added bonus to watching him lose control is that I find myself getting close again.

“Fuck!” He hisses. “Ana, stop, not yet.”

“No, Christian, give it to me,” I beg him. “I can’t wait anymore. Fuck me, Christian. I want to feel you come inside of me.”

He lets out a broken gasp and I know he’s beyond the point of no return. He surrenders to the inevitable and resumes his ruthless pace and seconds later, I detonate. As my orgasm rips through me, his hands loosen their grip on my hips and I push back on him again and again, prolonging the intensity.

“Oh fuck, that’s it baby! Fuck yourself on me while you come,” He commands and as I grind my hips on him again, his body tenses, and then he calls out my name and empties himself inside of me.

Next Chapter

 

Chapter 15

Image result for lincoln car logo

My cellphone ringing on Christian’s nightstand wakes me earlier than I intended the next morning and I groan. I try to reach over and grab it, but the moment I move, Christian, who is still asleep next to me, wraps his arms tighter around me, unconsciously holding me in place. With the very tips of my fingers, I’m able to pull the iPhone off the charger and answer it.

“Hello?” I croak.

“Hey, Ana. Did I wake you?” It’s Elliot.

“It’s 5:30 in the morning, so… yeah,” I say disapprovingly.

“Sorry, there’s a problem with some equipment down at the job site this morning so I’m headed down there to take care of it. I’m not going to be able to pick you up this morning.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll figure it out. Thanks for calling.”

“Sure. We should hang out sometime this week. The Mariners are in town. I can call Christian and see if we can use his box seats. Maybe if you come, he’ll come along too.”

“Maybe,” I tell him, noncommittally. It’s a little awkward having Christian pressed against me, naked, after a long night of passionate love making, and trying to pretend to Elliot that I’m still trying to keep distance between Christian and I. “I’ll talk to you later,” I tell him.

“Bye, Ana.”

“Bye,” I hang up the phone and collapse back into my pillow, pushing myself backwards into Christian’s chest and he gently nuzzles my hair.

“Who was that?” He asks.

“Your brother,” I tell him. “He can’t give me a ride to work today so I’ll probably have to call Luke and ask him.”

“I could take you. We’re going to the same place after all.”

“I don’t think showing up at work with you is the best way to keep our relationship on the down-low, Mr. Grey,” I say, sleepily, nestling my head deeper into my pillow as I try to fall back asleep.

“Then… I’ll drive one of my cars,” Christian suggests, apparently determined to keep me awake. “Taylor can drive you.”

“Taylor is your right hand man, Christian. I don’t think that’s any less suspicious.”

“Kate then. Kavanagh Media isn’t far from GEH, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind picking you up.”

“It’s fine, Christian. I don’t think Luke is going to care. I don’t want to make Kate go out of her way if I’m going to the same place as Luke anyway.”

I hear him exhale sharply behind me and then he leans in and kisses my naked shoulder. “I’m going to head down to the gym, do you want to join me?”

“I think I got plenty of exercise last night,” I tell him sardonically. “But not enough sleep. Wake me when you get back and I’ll take a shower with you.”

“I can hardly wait,” He says. He tilts my face back towards his to kiss me goodbye and then he crawls out of the bed and disappears into his closet. I’m asleep before he emerges again.

After a long, steamy shower that takes far longer than I have time for thanks to a certain CEO and his seeming insatiable desires, I pull on the dress I was wearing yesterday, stealthily stuff my panties in my purse and then hurry out of Christian’s bedroom. He’s in his office getting caught up on the emails he missed all day yesterday so I knock quietly on the door to get his attention and when he looks up, I hurry inside.

“I’m going to head downstairs and get ready for work. I just wanted to come say goodbye,” I tell him. “I’ll see you in a little bit?”

“Mhmm,” He mumbles, turning his eyes back to his computer screen as he begins typing out an email to Andrea. I lean down and tilt his chin towards me, forcing him to look at me, and then kiss him goodbye, but as I pull away he gives me a disapproving look.

“Miss Steele, I’m shocked. I am your boss and this is highly unprofessional behavior.”

I roll my eyes. “My apologies, Mr. Grey. I’ll try to contain myself.”

“See that you do,” He replies jokingly. I laugh and then saunter out of his office, purposefully swinging my hips just a little as I go. When I get back to the door, I turn back to look at him and see that he’s shaking his head and smiling with amusement as he returns his focus to his work. Oh, how I wish we had just one more day together before we had to step outside of our bubble.

I pull out my phone as I make my way to the elevator but once I dial Luke’s number and bring the phone to my ear, the doors open and I see him standing there with Christian’s other security guard, Ryan.

“Luke!” I gasp as Ryan makes his way through the foyer. Luke stares at me, shocked for a second, and then, slowly, a knowing smile begins to creep across his face. I can see it in his eyes, he knows he’s caught me.

“Well, good morning, Ana,” He says, trying to suppress a laugh. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Mr. Grey asked the entire security team to meet this morning for a debrief. What are you doing here?”

“I was just… I-I left something here the other night that I needed to get,” I tell him.

“Uh huh.”

“I did!” I say defensively, feeling the blush creep into my cheeks.

“Sure,” Luke says, not even trying to hide his teasing smile now.

“Luke, stop!” I reply, laughing. “Seriously, I had to get my… phone. I left it here on Saturday and I needed it to call you because I need a ride to work today.”

“You’re sure you want me to take you? I mean, maybe there is someone here better suited for your needs than I am…”

“Luke Sawyer!” I exclaim, and he laughs.

“Fine, live in denial,” He tells me. “If you need a ride, I’ll be ready to go in forty five minutes.”

“Then I will meet you downstairs.” I reply. He looks me up and down a couple time and then laughs again and I reach out and slap his arm.

“Stop!” I exclaim, and I try to sound incensed but I’m laughing now too.

“What’s going on out here?” Christian’s voice says behind me and I turn around to see him staring earnestly at Luke and I. Luke’s disposition changes immediately.

“Nothing, sir,” He says, his voice now serious and even.

“I don’t have all morning, Sawyer,” Christian says, and Luke nods and walks forward through the foyer without a backwards glance at me. I give Christian an apologetic, please-don’t-be-mad-at-Luke kind of smile and I see the muscle in his jaw twitch as he turns around and walks into the living room.

I don’t understand his problem with me being friends with Luke. It’s his fault after all. I wouldn’t have ever met Luke if Christian wasn’t such an overprotective, borderline stalker. He’s just going to have to get used to Luke and I hanging out together, this tension is bad for everybody. I sigh as I step into the elevator and push the button for my floor, wondering how I’m going to make him see that there’s nothing to be worried about with Luke.

We’re friends, good friends, but just friends.

Forty five minutes later, I’m dressed in the same navy and white polka dot blouse I wore last week, though this time I’ve paired it with a long cream colored pencil skirt and nude pumps, and I’m making my way down to the parking garage where I find Luke waiting for me, idling in his car a few steps away from the elevator.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say gratefully as I climb into the front seat.

“Thanks for working at the same place I do,” He says, as he pulls out of the parking garage and onto Virginia St.

“Did you get in trouble with Christian… I mean, with Mr. Grey?” I ask.

“No,” He says. “But, I don’t think he likes me very much. I think he preferred it when I was on the other side of the country. Unlike you, who he seems very happy to see.”

“I can’t imagine why he would be happier having you far away,” I say pointedly as Luke’s irritating I-know-what-you-did-all-weekend smile returns. I give him an indignant look and he laughs.

“You didn’t even make it a week,” He says through his raucous laughter, and I try to keep the guilt off my face as I prepare to deny his accusation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, cut the crap, Ana,” Luke says. “He told us you two were back together.”

“What?” I ask, a little too harshly as I turn a piercing gaze on him. “What do you mean he told you we were back together?”

“We’re his security team, Ana. He can’t exactly lie to us,” Luke says as if this is obvious. “Our job is to protect him and everyone around him. If you two are dating, that includes you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say. “So, what? Is he just going to have you following me around everywhere again?”

“Not me,” Luke says, shaking his head. “I think you’re going to get Prescott again.”

“Great,” I grumble, and he gives me a sympathetic smile.

“I know you don’t like her, and I’m sorry. I feel that’s kind of my fault… but she’ll come around eventually. I didn’t really like her at first either, but I came around… kind of.”

I give him a look that expresses my lack of confidence in coming around with Prescott and he frowns before changing the subject.

“We’re still doing the movie this week, right? I’m not on call tonight, if you’re free.”

I shake my head. “I can’t, I have therapy tonight.”

“Oh, well… let me know, I guess.”

He pulls into the garage under GEH and parks in the long line of reserved spaces near the front of the garage. As we walk into the elevator, he tells me about his weekend, and this new girl that he met when he was canoeing down at the WAC over at the University of Washington. I press him for the entire way up to the 8th floor, using the subtly intrusive interviewing skills I’ve acquired after years of living with Kate, and am surprised at how shy he seems to be to talk about her.

“I think you really like her,” I say, giving him a knowing smile as he swipes his security badge and then holds open the door for me.

“I think you’re… intrusive,” He says, awkwardly, and I laugh. I’m intrusive? Leila and Andrea both turn to look at us as we walk through the door, and I’m a little relieved to see that it looks like they’ve only just gotten here too.

“Good Morning, Ana,” Andrea says brightly.

“Good Morning,” I tell her. She says hi to Luke who returns her greeting with warmth, but when he acknowledges Leila, there is a noticeably colder edge in his tone. He turns and waves to me as he disappears around the corner towards the security office and I make my way around the desk to put my things away.

“You two seem pretty friendly,” Andrea says, and I shake my head. What is with everyone today?

“We’re friends,” I tell her. “Just friends.”

“Why?” Leila asks disapprovingly and Andrea rolls her eyes.

“You’ll have to forgive, Leila,” She says. “They’ve been at odds ever since Luke was brought in here a few weeks ago.”

“How come?” I ask.

“Because he’s rude,” Leila says, shortly.

“He’s not rude, he just doesn’t do what you tell him to do and you can’t handle it when you feel like you’re not the one running this office.”

“Yeah… so rude,” She says and Andrea laughs before sitting down to log into her computer.

“How was your weekend, Leila?” I ask, trying to be more friendly to her. Her smile falters and she turns back to the screen in front of her.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” She says, and I raise an eyebrow at her and turn to Andrea who is smirking to herself.

“What happened?” I ask, concerned.

“Her life was ruined,” Andrea replies for her and Leila shakes her head.

“It’s not true, I just don’t believe it.”

“What?” I ask, and again Andrea replies for her.

“We were having lunch together yesterday and about halfway through our salads, she got a tweet from some celebrity gossip twitter page she follows that said Mr. Grey has a secret girlfriend.”

“It’s just not true,” Leila says. “I’ll bet you anything, it was his sister.”

“And the canoodling?” Andrea asks.

“Made up,” I add, agreeing with Leila, and they both turn to look at me. “You know how celebrity gossip sites work. They exaggerate everything. I was hanging out with my friend Kate this weekend, and she’s dating Mr. Grey’s brother. I think I do remember her saying something about him spending the weekend with Mia.”

“See,” Leila says smugly to Andrea and then she gives me a rare, appreciative smile. I sit down at my laptop and begin reading through the emails in my inbox, none of which seem to be important, until I hear the lock on the door click open.

“Good morning, Mr. Grey,” Leila says. I look up to see Christian and Taylor walking through the door and I’m surprised to see that he’s holding multiple cups of coffee.

“Good morning, ladies,” He says, and then he frowns at me. “Oh, Anastasia. I’m sorry, I forgot you’re here now. I went to the coffee shop on my way to work this morning and I picked up coffee for Andrea and Leila but…”

“That’s quite alright, Mr. Grey,” I say, wanting to roll my eyes at his transparent attempt to seem like he doesn’t care about me. “I’m much more of a tea drinker myself.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” He says. “Andrea, I’ll be ready to go over my schedule for the day in ten minutes. In the meantime, I need you to get in touch with Miss Menke in HR and have her forward me everything we have on the GEH non-fraternization policy.”

“Yes, sir,” Andrea says, making a note the pad of paper in front of her.

“Have you been in touch with Lincoln?” he asks and I freeze. What? Lincoln? My fingers hover over my keyboard, motionless, as I wait intently for whatever Andrea says next.

“Yes, sir,” she says. “I expect arrival just before 9:30.”

“Good. I’ll be leaving early this evening, around 5:30. I have an appointment in town.”

“Yes, sir,” Andrea says again.

“Thank you for the coffee, Mr. Grey,” Leila says, smiling broadly, and he nods.

“Don’t mention it.”

I gape after him as he picks up his own cup of coffee and disappears back towards his office without a glance back at me. Shit, she’s coming here? Now? Fuck, what am I going to do? Should I try and stop him from meeting her? Maybe I should go downstairs and try and get her away before anyone knows she’s here. But what would I even say to her?

Fuck!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

“I wonder what he wants with the non-fraternization policy?” Andrea muses allowed as she begins typing an email to HR. “Maybe his secret girlfriend works here. Did Ros say anything about it to you, Ana? You two hung out this weekend, right?”

“No,” I reply, and then I want to curse myself as I realize that this is my opportunity to alleviate any suspicion of Christian and I. “I mean, yeah… I think she said something about an office relationship, but it didn’t have anything to do with Mr. Grey.”

“Oh. I bet it’s Mr. Warren down in the telecommunications department. I swear you can taste the sexual tension between him and his secretary. It’s weird that he would want the policy though, instead of just firing one of them.”

“Maybe he’s suddenly become okay with the ideas of bosses having relationships with their secretaries,” Leila says hopefully. “He did remember my coffee order.”

Andrea rolls her eyes.

I spend the next hour and twenty minutes nervously working through a project Andrea has given me for the day and wondering if I should text Elliot and let him know that Elena is on the way here. I glance down at the phone on the desk what feels like every thirty seconds, dreading the call that I know is going to come in, but every ring is a false alarm until exactly 9:30.

“Christian Grey’s Office, Leila Williams speaking, how may I direct your call? Thank you, Jocelyn,” She says and she hangs up the phone and turns to Andrea.

“Lincoln is downstairs,” She says, and Andrea immediately reaches forward, picks up the phone and dials Christian’s extension.

“Mr. Grey, Lincoln is here,” She says, and then nods and hangs up the phone. A few seconds later, Christian comes around the corner and places a file folder on the desk.

“I’ve made edits to these documents, please see that Miss Menke gets them immediately,” He says.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Grey,” Andra replies.

“Miss Steele, will you come with me please?” He says and I swallow hard as I get out of my seat. What is he going to do? Take me downstairs where Elena’s waiting? Is he crazy?

But then again… maybe this is it. Maybe he’s going to tell her that he doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore and he wants me there for moral support. If that’s the case, I probably should be there, if anything just to make sure she doesn’t try to pull some manipulative bullshit to change his mind.

Leila raises an eyebrow at me as I get out of my chair so I shrug and give her a look to tell her I’m just as confused as she is, and surprisingly she buys it. She looks, almost sympathetically at me and I don’t understand why. Maybe she thinks I’m being fired and he’s escorting me out of the building, although it seems unlikely that that would be Christian’s job… Maybe she knows Elena and she feels bad that I’m going to have to be in her presence. That’s certainly enough for me to feel bad for anyone.

I follow Christian to the elevator, and once the doors close, he reaches over and takes my hand, stroking the backs of my fingers with his thumb.

“I think we’re doing pretty well,” He says. “No one seems to be any the wiser.”

“Mhmm,” I mumble and he raises an eyebrow at me.

“Was the coffee too much? I thought it might be a good way to put some distance between us, but I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings… I could have Taylor run out and get you something if you want.”

“No, it was fine, Christian,” I tell him.

“Then what’s wrong?” He asks, but the elevator begins to slow as we approach the 5th floor and he moves a few steps away from me, releases my hand and puts on a straight face as the doors open for two men in suits, holding briefcases.

“Mr. Grey,” One of the men greets Christian but he only nods as we continue to the first floor.

Once we’re released into the lobby, I begin looking nervously around the for the tale-tell sign of Elena’s strikingly blonde hair, but I don’t recognize any of the people around me. As we approach the front reception desk, I’m surprised that Christian begins walking towards a stern looking man in a black suit, rather than also looking around for Elena.

“Ah, here he is,” The girl sitting at the desk says with a smile. “Mr. Griffin, this is Mr. Grey.”

“Thank you for be so accommodable on short notice, Mr. Griffin,” Christian says, reaching out and shaking his hand firmly.

“It’s our pleasure, Mr. Grey. It’s waiting for you just downstairs,” Mr. Griffin says. Christian gestures for him to lead the way and I give him a suspicious look as we follow him back to the elevator and Mr. Griffin pushes the button for the parking garage. What the hell?

When the doors open, we walk past the line of cars in Christian’s and his security team’s parking places until Mr. Griffin stops at a small, glossy red, SUV. I look at it curiously for a moment and relief floods over me when I see the word Lincoln MKX across the back in shiny silver letters.

Lincoln as in the car. Not Elena.

Mr. Griffin walks Christian around the car, which is apparently next year’s model and isn’t even on the market yet, and explains the car’s specs, all the different features, and the luxury extras that have been added. Christian asks several questions about the safety specifications and after a long drawn out explanation from Mr. Griffin, Christian closes the passenger’s side door and nods.

“I’ll take it,” He says and Mr. Griffin’s face lights up.

Christian gives him his personal finance adviser’s information to finalize the paperwork and arrange payment, and after ironing out the last few details, Mr. Griffin shakes Christian’s hand one last time and then makes his way back to the elevator, leaving us alone with the car.

“What do you think?” Christian asks, turning to me.

“About the car?” I ask. “Uh… it’s new? I don’t know, don’t you have an SUV already?”

“It’s not for me,” He says. “It’s for you.”

“What?” I ask, feeling my stomach drop.

“For you to get to work. You won’t need Elliot or Sawyer anymore, you have a car.”

“Christian, you can’t just give me a car.”

“Of course I can. Just think of it as renegotiating the terms of your internship,” He says. “It’s a company car. I own it and if you want to give it back at the end of the summer, you can. But as your boss, I need to ensure you are able to get to work on time. Next week you won’t be in this building anymore. I can’t spare my security staff to drive you around during the day.”

“What do you mean I won’t be here? Where will I be?”

“Tomorrow,” He says, evasively. “It will be announced tomorrow.”

“Does anyone else have a company car?”

“Sure,” Christian shrugs. “I’ve given cars to most of my security staff, Gail, even Andrea has one.”

“What about Leila?”

“Leila?” He says, his brow furrowed. “Why would Leila need a car? She doesn’t run errands.”

I turn and look at the car frowning, and Christian sighs.

“It’s just a car, Anastasia. I thought you’d be happy, it’s brand new and you haven’t had a car since I’ve known you. Honestly, I was expecting a little more excitement than this.”

“I can give it back at the end of the summer?” I clarify.

“If you want to.”

“It is kind of beautiful…” I admit reluctantly.

“It is,” He agrees. “And it’s yours. Enjoy it.”

Looking quickly around the parking lot to make sure that no one is around, I lean in and give him a quick kiss and he looks at me sternly.

“I thought you were going to control yourself, Miss Steele?”

“Sorry,” I tell him insincerely, and he smiles before pulling me behind the car and kissing me for real.

The rest of the day passes by fairly uneventfully. Andrea is mostly busy preparing for an important meeting taking place the next day, which has her in and out of the office, so Leila is pretty much on her own fielding calls and dealing with people coming through the doors looking for Christian and Ros. After spending an entire afternoon observing her, I actually find that I’m fairly impressed by Leila. She handles everything extremely well and efficiently. She’s hospitable and courteous to all of Christian’s business associates and the high level staff of GEH. She’s even warmed up to me a bit. Maybe she was just having a bad week last week, or maybe, after half-lying to her about my weekend plans, she’s just ruled me out as a rival for Christian’s affections and so she doesn’t feel the need to be cold to me anymore. Or maybe Andrea talked to her about how she was coming off. They had lunch together this weekend so I assume they’re friends and she was probably worried Leila might get in trouble. Especially since they know I at least have a close relationship with Ros.

At five thirty, I begin packing my things and as I wish Leila a good night, Christian comes around the corner with Taylor and Prescott in tow. I frown as I realize that apparently, Luke was right. I am going to get a security detail, and it isn’t going to be him.

“Miss Steele,” Christian greets me with a stiff nod as he comes to stand next to me at the elevator. “Leaving early tonight?”

“Oh… uh, yeah. I have a commitment that I couldn’t get out of,” I tell him, and he nods again.

“I see. Well I do hope your plans are more engaging than mine. I’m meeting a business associate tonight, trying to hash out some details of a merger we’re currently in the middle of.”

“Well, I hope that goes well for you, Mr. Grey.”

“So do I,” He says, and as the elevator pings to announce it’s arrival, I turn to face the doors, trying to hide my smile from Leila.

“Ana, you remember Prescott?” Christian says when the elevator doors close and we begin our descent to the parking garage.

“Yes, hi again,” I say, unable to hide my uncomfortable displeasure as I turn to acknowledge her. Why can’t it be Luke?

“I’d like you to take security with you wherever you go,” Christian says. “For my own peace of mind.”

“Is that negotiable?” I ask and he frowns.

“We’ll talk about it tonight,” He says. I sigh, but nod in agreement.

When the doors open, Prescott follows me to my brand new car and I smile broadly as I climb through the driver’s side door. The inside of the Lincoln smells brand new, and the black leather seats are still cool and tight. It’s strange to think that this car is mine, I haven’t ever had my own car before, let alone one this nice. My parents haven’t even had a car this nice.

“Just follow Taylor, ma’am,” Prescott says, gesturing to the black SUV pulling out a few spaces down. I roll my eyes and put the car in reverse, looking carefully over my shoulder as I back out and then turn forward towards the exit. I don’t need her direction and, quite frankly, I don’t want it either. If this is what it’s going to be like having her tag along all time, I know this summer is going to feel interminable.

The Lincoln handles great, better even than Kate’s Mercedes and I suppose that probably has something to do with the fact that her car is almost six years old and this one hasn’t even technically been released yet. The downside though, is parking. Usually, that’s not something I have to worry about, but now that I do, I remember that parking in downtown Seattle is terrible. There is no lot or garage connected to the building where Dr. Flynn’s office is located so I have to follow Taylor down the street and around the corner to a public garage a few blocks away.

Once we’re parked, Taylor escorts Christian and I through the garage and down a side street to loop back around to Dr. Flynn’s building. After last weekend, walking with Christian in public has me worried, but Christian must have already thought of the possibility of photographers as we take a route to the back door of Flynn’s building without ever coming into view of the street. Or, maybe this is just how he always gets here… I suppose that as much as I don’t want anyone suspecting we’re dating, he doesn’t want anyone to find out he’s in therapy.

Clara, Flynn’s receptionist, is much more attentive this time around than she was the last time I was here and I don’t know if that’s because this is a confirmed appointment rather than an emergency drop in session, or because I’m with Christian. Based on her seeming inability to form coherent sentences and the fact that she physically gets out of her seat to open the door for us though, I assume it’s because of the latter. This is the downside of dating someone who looks the way Christian does, the longing stares of women everywhere we go.

“Hello, Christian. Ana,” Dr. Flynn says, smiling as he comes into the lobby to get us. We make our way into his office and to the couch across from his tall backed chair. As we sit down next to one another, Flynn looks between us expectantly.

“How was your weekend?” He asks.

“Fine,” Christian answers

“Were you able to spend some time with one another?”

“Yes,” Christian answers again.

“What did you do?” Flynn asks, turning to me.

“We went shopping and we watched a movie and we spent some time with his family,” I reply.

“That sounds wonderful,” Dr. Flynn says. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yes,” I tell him.

“Good. Ana, in your last session we had talked about maintaining boundaries between the two of you while you both worked through your issues together. Did you share what those boundaries were with Christian?”

“Yes.”

“And, Christian, how did that go over, maintaining physical distance between the two of you?”

“It was fine,” Christian says. “We had sex.”

I’m taken off guard by his casual admission and turn to look at him, stunned. First his security team, now Flynn… what part of keeping this a secret doesn’t he understand?

“You did?” Flynn asks, surprised.

“Many times. Oh, and we’re back together,” Christian says and this time, my mouth actually pops open with shock.

“Really? Well, I’m happy to hear that,” Dr. Flynn says, before turning to look at me. “What changed for you, Anastasia?”

“Uh, I-I…” I stutter at a complete loss for words. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about this, Christian.”

“You want me to lie to our therapist? I thought you asked me to take this seriously?” He says and I frown. He kind of has me there. I suppose Flynn is safe. He can’t tell anyone what we say to him in therapy, so it’s not like it’s going to get out if we talk to him about our relationship. We are going to need help getting through some of this tougher stuff together and Flynn seems to be okay with the fact that I broke the rules…

“I don’t know what changed,” I say, looking at Flynn. “I just didn’t want to be apart anymore. Spending time with him this weekend brought a lot of comfort and old feelings back for me. It reminded me why I loved him so much in the first place, what made us so good together and I didn’t want to wait to try to get back what we used to have. I thought we’d be better and come out of this stronger if we worked through this together, rather than apart.”

“Why do you say used to have?” Christian asks. “Nothing has changed, Ana. Not in the way I feel about you. Are you telling me that it’s changed for you?”

“Well… kind of. I don’t trust you the way that I used to, Christian. I don’t think I can get completely back to the way it was until I feel like I can trust you again.”

“I don’t understand,” He says, and I can hear anger building in his voice. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do. I’ve reached out to my family and done everything they’ve asked of me to make it right with them. I’ve even confessed what I did to my father. What more can I do?”

I turn away from him and shake my head. “You still talk to Elena.”

“I’ve told you before, Anastasia, that’s just business. She’s moved on, all of that bullshit is over between us.”

“No, it isn’t,” I tell him. “What about last Friday?’

“What about Friday?” He asks, and the anger in his voice is obvious now.

“You told me that you called her when you felt like you were getting out of control. That’s not business, Christian. That’s very, very personal and the fact that you left that out when you promised me that there was nothing going on between you two makes me feel like you’re hiding something from me.”

“You’ve lost me,” Dr. Flynn says, “What happened last Friday night?”

“It was nothing,” Christian says dismissively, and I let out a harsh laugh.

“So it’s fine to talk about all the sex we’ve been having because you don’t want to lie to your therapist, but you’ll just skate over Elena?”

“I’m not skating over anything,” Christian says, through barred teeth. “There’s nothing to talk about in regards to Elena. She’s nothing to me, Anastasia.”

“If you think that’s true, then she’s manipulated you even more than I thought.”

“She’s not manipulating me, Anastasia. You don’t know what it’s been like here, you’ve been gone.” He says, raising his voice now. “I don’t care about her, I don’t think about her, I don’t need her. I am the CEO and sole proprietor of the fasting growing company in the United States. People like Warren Buffett and the Koch brothers call me for advice. I am in control of everything around me, even the very economy of this city. I’m the most powerful man in Seattle. Elena Lincoln is nobody and she has absolutely no influence over me.”

I look back into his fiery gaze and I know he’s mad, but I’m not going to concede on the Elena issue.

“What about the salons, Christian?” I ask. “She needed help and you bent over backwards to make sure she was okay.”

“You’re just emphasizing my point,” Christian says. “She came to me. I don’t rely on her, if anything she relies on me. I have the power in any interaction I have with Elena and I choose to keep our relationship strictly professional.”

“Except when you get upset,” I throw back at him. “And then she’s right back in the driver’s seat.”

“I’m confused,” Dr. Flynn says. “What happened last Friday night?”

Christian glares at me and then takes a deep breath before recounting what happened with Mia last weekend and our conversation afterwards.

“That sounds like amazing progress to me,” Dr. Flynn says when Christian finishes.

“But he admitted that he wanted to call Elena,” I argue. “He admitted that he uses her for emotional support.”

“But he didn’t on Friday,” Dr. Flynn says. “He tried to find another outlet and when you both allowed yourselves to be open with each other and communicate honestly, Christian avoided contact with Elena Lincoln all together and Ana, you didn’t run away. I’d say I’m very proud of both of you.”

“But what if I hadn’t been there?” I ask and then turn to Christian. “What if Mia hadn’t called me that night and you were alone? Would you have called her then? If I had come over that night after Luke left, would she have been in your apartment? Would you have been at hers? I can’t be around all the time, and I can’t worry that if something happens and you get upset and I’m not there to talk you down, that you’re going to go running off to her. That’s how she gets to you, Christian. She prays on you when you’re vulnerable. It’s what happened two years ago and if you don’t cut her completely out of your life, it’ll happen again and I can’t go through something like the trial again. I won’t.”

“She doesn’t do anything to me, Anastasia. I’ve told you, it’s different between us now. She’s moved on, I’ve moved on. Nothing like the trial will ever happen again. I’ve told you that I’m sorry, why can’t you just accept that I’m sorry?” Christian says, fuming.

“Because you can’t tell me what you’re sorry for!” I argue, and now, I’m angry too. “How can you promise me that it won’t happen again or even say you’re sorry if you don’t even know what it is you’re apologizing for?” I ask, and Christian loses it.

“I can’t read your mind, Anastasia,” He shouts back at me. “You don’t talk to me, you shut me out. How about instead of hanging this elusive concept of forgiveness over my head, you just tell me what you want me to be fucking sorry for and I will apologize to you.”

“See, I knew it! You’re not apologizing because you’re actually sorry, you’re apologizing because you just want to appease me.”

“Of course I want to appease you, you’ve been punishing me for two fucking years and I don’t know what it is that you want from me. I’m constantly walking on eggshells around you, just waiting for you to bolt again. I want you to trust me, Ana, you can trust me. I won’t hurt you again. I’ve learned my lesson and I don’t know what to say try and earn your trust back except that I’m sorry.”

“But you don’t know what you’re-” I begin, almost yelling now, but Dr. Flynn cuts me off.

“Okay, let’s take a breath,” He says. “It think we should go about this a different way. Ana, your trust issues with Christian, did they exist before the trial?”

“No, I trusted him completely. That’s why it was so devastating to me. I never dreamed he was capable of doing something like that.” I tell him and as the anger and hurt begin to overwhelm me, I feel the sting of tears in my eyes.

“Okay, Christian, Ana uses words like devastating when she talks about what happened with the trial. What do you think it is about what happened that she would feel devastated by?”

“She hates Elena and I protected her,” He says bluntly. “She’s pissed because she thinks that I chose Elena over her, but I didn’t. It wasn’t like that. In this deal that I made with her, I wasn’t trying to protect her. I was clear that she was to never contact either of us or anyone in my family again. I was trying to build a life for us. I wasn’t choosing her over you, Ana, and if that’s what you’re angry about, then I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention and I’m sorry.”

I feel the first real tears begin to roll down my cheeks as he apologizes to me, and because I’m afraid the silent tears will turn into sobs if I try and speak, I don’t say anything in response. We sit there in tense silence until Dr. Flynn gently presses me to speak.

“Ana, how do you feel about what Christian has just said to you? Do you feel that he protected her and that his decision that day was him effectively choosing her over you?”

I shrug and pull the tissue away from my face so I can speak. “Partially. I don’t know… It’s hard to…” I begin but my voice chokes off with the sobs I was afraid of before.

“Well, I think it’s important that you’re clear what is hurting you so that Christian can understand,” Dr. Flynn says. “What if we try to keep emotions out of this as much as possible and you just tell me your perspective of what happened in the trial.”

I take a deep breath. “He sold me a lie. He sold everyone a lie. He went behind my back, behind his father’s back, and around a restraining order AND a no contact order, to set up this whole plan with… that woman. He sat in an examination room with his father and went through all the motions knowing that he would…” My voice cuts off for a second, but I force myself to press on. “I still, to this day, don’t even know how it happened. I don’t know if he reached out to her or if she reached out to him. You didn’t just break the law, Christian, you let me and your entire family walk into that courtroom thinking that justice was going to be served, and we were completely blindsided.”

“My family wasn’t looking for justice, my family was looking for revenge,” Christian says darkly.

“How can you say that?” I yell at him and Dr. Flynn holds up his hands to stop me.

“Christian, does what Ana just said give you a new perspective of what she needs from you when she asks for an apology?”

“I lied,” Christian says, shortly. “Okay, I lied. I know that was wrong and I did it anyway. If that’s what it is, then I’m sorry, but Ana, I just couldn’t do it. The relationship that Elena and I had wasn’t something she did to me, it was something she did with me. I knew what is was that we had, she was very clear from the start. I had every opportunity to end it but I didn’t because I didn’t want to. She didn’t force me into this. It would have been just as much of a lie for me to get up on that stand and say that she molested me as it was for me to say nothing ever happened. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I had a hand in sending her to prison for something that I had equal part in.”

“Look, I know that you felt guilty and pressured, but you didn’t tell me any of that before hand,” I tell him. “You just did it and then expected me to accept it. I had no say in this future that you said you wanted to create for us. Did you honestly believe when you took me to the top of the Empire State Building that I would be happy for you? That I would see this money as some kind of justice?”

“So it’s the money then? You want me to be sorry for the money?” Christian asks, his anger peaking again.

“It’s not the money, Christian. I understand the money. She offered it to you because she knew that more than anything else, you wanted to start your company. That’s all you talked about and I know you talked about it with her. She knew how hard it was for you facing the rejection and the failure that you did when you couldn’t make a deal to get the money to start your company and so she played the victim card and then dangled a carrot in front of you that she knew you couldn’t refuse. I get that, I don’t blame you for that. It’s not the money.”

“Then what is it?” He yells at me.

“You lied to me, Christian. You didn’t trust me, and then you left me…”

“You left me, Anastasia. I would never leave you,” He interrupts me and I look back at him incredulously.

We spend the next hour going through the events of the trial over and over again, but we always end up at the same place. He can’t apologize because he sees what happened to analytically instead of seeing what his actions did to me, to his whole family, on an emotional level. He can’t see how his betrayal changed my perspective on the world, how it ruined me, and until he does I don’t think he’ll ever really know what I need from him. The problem is, no matter how Dr. Flynn tries to redirect us, I can’t seem to be able to articulate to him what the trial really did to me. I just don’t have the words for what it really felt like.

“I can’t talk about this anymore,” I say through my tears as we approach the end of our session. My cheeks are raw and sting from wiping away my tears and I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted.

“Okay, then let’s take a break,” Dr. Flynn concedes. “We can start here in our next session.”

“Fine,” Christian says. He stands up from the couch as I gather all of my discarded tissues to throw away in the small trash can by the door and then leads me out of the room, leaving anger in his wake as he moves. He’s practically trembling as we schedule our next appointment with the receptionist and he remains silent on the way back to our cars where both Taylor and Prescott are waiting for us.

“I’ll see you back at home?” Christian asks, and the anger in his voice breaks for the first time with the uncertainty in his question. I nod and he looks like he’s going to reach out for me, maybe wrap me in his arms, but he stops himself and then climbs into the back seat of the SUV.

Prescott has to drive as, once I’m back in the Lincoln, I have a hard time holding back my tears again. I wonder what it’s going to take for Christian to understand. It’s not that I’m afraid to tell him how I feel, I just don’t know if I’m able to do it correctly. I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t want to rub the pain he caused in his face, I just want him to understand what I went through after the trial so he knows why I need him to show remorse. The problem is that I’ve compartmentalized everything, buried everything, rid myself of as much of the hurt as I was able to and now, I’m actually struggling to bring it all back up again. I know that if we’re going to move forward from here and be happy again that he has to know what this was like for me. I just need to figure out how to tell him.

And then it hits me.

I know exactly how to tell him.

When make it back to Escala, we step into the elevator and Christian reaches out to press the button for the penthouse but I stop him.

“My floor,” I tell him and his jaw tenses.

“Is this what therapy is going to do to us?” He asks, turning furiously away from the elevator panel to face me. “We were fine before we went to see Flynn, it was almost normal again. I’m not going to do this if it’s going to drive you away from me.”

“That’s not what’s happening, Christian. I want you to come with me. I just need to give you something.”

He looks at me suspiciously for a moment and then turns back to the panel to press the button for the fourteenth floor. I take hold of his hand, trying to reassure him and calm him down as we walk through the hall to my apartment and once we’re inside I ask him to sit on the couch while I make my way to my bedroom. I pull open the bottom drawer of my nightstand and take out the one full copy of my manuscript that I’ve brought to Seattle with me. My fingers brush nervously over the title page before I take a bracing breath and return to Christian.

“Here,” I say quietly as I hold out the manuscript for him and his brow furrows as he reaches out to take it from me.

“What’s this?”

“It’s my book,” I tell him. “Maybe this will help you understand what I need from you.”

“You want me to read it?”

“No, I don’t,” I say honestly. “But now, I think maybe it’s important that you do.”

“Okay,” He says. “Then I’ll start tonight.”

“Okay. I just… I can’t watch you read it so…”

“So, I’ll see you in the morning then,” He says, and he tucks the manuscript under his arm as he gets to his feet. I stare at him nervously. I don’t know how he’s going to react to what’s in that manuscript and part of me is dreading finding out.

He leans over and kisses me tenderly on the lips and I give him and shaky smile as he turns to leave. Once he’s gone, I can’t stop picturing him upstairs reading through the novel, reacting to what I’ve written, and it drives me crazy. I do everything I can to find something to distract me, reading, watching TV, obsessively cleaning my bathroom, but nothing works. I even try going down to the gym, but it isn’t enough to relieve my apprehension.

By midnight, I find myself pacing frantically back and forth across my bedroom floor. The more I’ve thought about this, the more I’ve gone through each chapter in my head over and over again, the less I’m convinced having Christian read my book was a good idea. I may have been a little harsh in what I wrote and while it’s fine for fiction, if he’s reading this as my analysis of what happened in the trial, it might be a little too much. But then again… no, I don’t know if it is. It was bad and as much as I don’t want to hurt him, he needs to know what it was really like.

Eventually, after I realized I’ve stayed up way too late for a Monday night, I crawl into bed and try to convince myself that this is necessary. It’s how I feel, it’s what I went through. I can’t change that to protect him, and if it’s going to help us move forward, no matter how painful it is, it has to be this way.

I’m not exactly sure when I drift off, or how long I actually do get to sleep, but when a sudden, loud knock bangs its way into my consciousness, I bolt upright and look around the room, needing a second to orient myself. The alarm by the bed tells me it’s nearly five o’clock in the morning, and part of me wonders if I dreamed the sound that woke me until I hear the knocking again. I look curiously at my bedroom door, climb out of bed and make my way out to the living room.

When I open the door, I find Christian standing in the hallway, dressed in the same clothes he was wearing when he left last night just after 7:30 last night. He stares at me blankly, looking ashen faced.

“I was hoping by the time I got down here, I would know what to say to you,” He says tonelessly.

I feel a harrowing sense of dread as I look at him, feeling as though my worst fears in giving him this book have been confirmed. Since I’ve been in Seattle, I’ve reluctantly grown accustomed to the look of doubt and even fear in his eyes, but this… this is much worse. He looks almost hollow, and the pain of seeing him like this hits me like an arrow through my heart.

“Come in,” I tell him, stepping aside to let him in. I hold my arms open, wanting to hold him just to offer him some kind of comfort, but the second I touch him, he shrugs me off. As he walks into the living room, I notice that he doesn’t move with his usual kind of predatory grace but instead he seems to shamble forward. He places my manuscript on the table in front of the TV and then turns around to face me.

“I finished it,” He says and I swallow as I mentally prepare myself for what he’s going to say. “I didn’t realize this is how you saw it. I didn’t see what this trial meant to you and believe me, if I had, if I’d know it was like this, I never would have done it. I just thought it was because you hated her or you were mad because I took the money… I didn’t see what I was doing. I promised you the world and I destroyed it right in front of you. Then I took you to New York, paraded you around your favorite city as if it would make everything okay and the whole time I was lying to you. It was like I was taunting you with what I did. God, no wonder you cut me out, no wonder you refused to see or speak to me. How can you even look at me?”

I feel my lip begin to quiver as I fight back tears. The pain in his voice cuts through me like a knife and I want to offer him some kind of solace, some reassurance, but I don’t know what to say to him. He might be on the verge of a breakthrough but this is too intense for me to handle alone. He’s spiraling in front of me and I don’t have the knowledge or the experience to deal with this the right way. I need Flynn… Flynn should be here.

“Come here,” I tell him, moving towards him but again, he rejects my touch.

“I knew that I broke your heart, and I was sorry for that,” He continues. “But I didn’t realize that I completely shattered you. I took away the innocence that I loved so much about you and left you wounded, and jaded and unable to trust anyone around you. You were right, when I made this decision without even talking to you, I left you. Worse, I abandoned you after promising you forever and I left you desolate. I don’t deserve you, Anastasia.”

I stare back at him, unbelieving. No. No this isn’t what I want, and now, seeing him this way, I feel like I’ve made a mistake. He wasn’t ready for this and by forcing this on him, I’ve just broken him more. The self-loathing I hear in his voice makes me sick. He’s the world to me. I just want him to see what Elena is and get away from her influence, I don’t want to break him down.

“Yes you do, Christian. You’re a good person. I know in my soul that you are and that you would have never done anything like this if it wasn’t because that woman had been abusing you and manipulating you for so many years that you couldn’t tell the difference between right and wrong anymore.”

“So what if you’re right? What makes what she did to me any different than what I did to you?”

“Christian…”

“I know who she is, Anastasia,” He interrupts me. “I think you all think I look at her through rose colored glasses but I don’t. She’s cold, calculating, driven, and selfish, but so am I. There was a time, before I knew you, when I thought that maybe I loved her. It wasn’t the kind of love you found in Jane Austen novels but I didn’t think that kind of love really existed. And then I met you, and I fell in love with you and, by some miracle, you fell in love with me too. You showed me that real love does exist in this world and I realized that what Elena and I had wasn’t love, not even close. But anything she’s ever done to me, she never did under the pretense of love. She was clear what we were. What I did to you, I told you I did because I loved you. I put this on you, on my love for you so I wouldn’t have to face what I did. I took the love that you gave to me and I used it to try and manipulate you into ignoring what I had done. That’s immeasurably worse than anything Elena has ever done to me. If you think she’s evil, then what does that make me? I don’t know, maybe Elena and I… maybe we deserve each other.”

His words hit me like a slap in the face and I stand there, dazed, until eventually, I feel tears spring to my eyes.

“No,” I tell him. “You do not deserve Elena Lincoln, no matter what has happened. Everything you did, you did because she manipulated you into thinking it was okay. She manipulated you into thinking that what you had was consensual, that she was helping you… and then she dangled the money in front of you because she knew that was what you wanted more than anything else. You didn’t make this decision, she did, and then she helped you justify it to yourself. You made a mistake, Christian but you’re not a terrible person and you do not deserve what happened to you, and you do not deserve having a person like her in your life.”

He shifts uncomfortably, looking away from me as his face crinkles with pain. I move forward, pushing myself into him, wrapping my arms tightly around him so that he can’t push me away, but he doesn’t try. Instead he pulls my chin up so he can look me in the eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when she first contacted me,” He says, quietly. “I’m sorry that I hid my reservations from you. I’m sorry that I went through with it at all. I’m sorry that I hurt you, I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you, I’m sorry that I leaned on you but never really let you support me. I’m sorry I put this on you and I’m sorry that it’s taken me two years to admit that what I did was wrong. It was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. I hurt you, Anastasia, but I will never hurt you again. If you’ll let me, I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”

“That’s not what I want, Christian. I don’t want to spend the rest of our lives rehashing this over and over again. I want closure. I want to put it behind us and move on and I want to do that with you by my side. I just needed to know that you were sorry so that I could trust you when you said you’d never hurt me again.”

“I am, Anastasia. I can’t tell you how sorry I really am.”

“Then I forgive you,” I tell him and he takes a deep breath and leans down to kiss me. I can feel his weight on me, like he’s having a hard time staying upright and I realize that he’s stayed up all night reading this book. That’s the second night in three days he hasn’t slept at all. I know that it’s nearly morning, but he should at least try and get some sleep before he has to go to work. Or maybe, he shouldn’t go to work…

“You should get some sleep,” I tell him, when he pulls his lips away from mine. “You look exhausted.”

“I think sleeping will just make it worse at this point,” He says. “But… I’d like to lay down with you.”

“Okay,” I tell him and I take him by the hand and lead him to my bedroom. We crawl into bed together and he wraps his arms around me as we lay there in silence, watching morning arrive through my bedroom window. I can feel his steady, even breaths, his heart beating in his chest, and it feels incredibly soothing after everything we’ve been through since last night.

I feel lighter now, as if his admission, his apology, and my forgiveness have somehow lifted an incredible weight off my shoulders. I’m at peace, for the first time in a long time and even though I know that Elena is out there somewhere, and I know that she’s going to do something to try and get between us again, I don’t care.

I think he knows what she is now. He knows what he did was wrong and I believe him when he says he’s sorry. Elena can do whatever she wants, but I can finally say that I trust him enough to know that no matter what she does, he’s not going to let her come between us again.

Next Chapter

Chapter 14

Image result for shower kiss

I’m stirred awake the next morning by the first rays of sunlight shining in through the bedroom window. A smile creeps across my lips as the lingering soreness between my legs validates that what happened last night was real.

Christian and I had sex.

Multiple times.

And it was… Perfect.

I moan appreciatively as I recall the feel of his lips on mine, his hands and his tongue on my body… the feel of him inside of me. Just thinking about it makes me ache for him and I realize now that I’ve opened Pandora’s Box.

Why was I trying to prevent this from happening again? Because I was worried that he’ll lose motivation to continue therapy if we were together? That seems ridiculous now. What could be better motivation than this? Something real and tangible to fight for.

Dr. Flynn said that isolation was Elena’s best weapon against Christian. She’s made herself the only person he feels like he can talk to. He thinks she’s the only one who understands him. He thinks that she’s the only one who will be there for him. It stands to reason then that he thinks she’s the only person that really cares about him.

If he’s really going to get away from her, he needs someone to take her place. I can do that, I want to do that. I have to continue to makes sure that he’s doing the work in therapy and with his family, but I see now that it will be so much easier for him to break this bond if he knows that when he comes out the other side, when Elena is gone, he won’t be alone.

I want to get back together with him.

It’s as simple as that. Now that we’ve crossed this line, there’s no going back and I don’t want to. I know I promised Ros that nothing would happen between us until the end of the summer, but I don’t want to wait until my internship is over and I know Christian doesn’t either. We can be professional at work. In fact, it’s almost exciting to think about having to keep this a secret. I’m done putting off my happiness and his happiness for other people, not even for Ros and most certainly not for Elena.

I came here to fight for Christian. Well… watch this.

I open my eyes and turn over to wake him up and confess what I’ve decided, but he isn’t lying next to me. He’s in a chair a few feet away from the bed, dressed again, looking as though he hasn’t gotten any sleep. There are prominent dark circles under his eyes, marring his beautiful face, and he’s looking at me with trepidation.

“Hey,” I say, concerned, “What are you doing over there?”

“Are you going to leave?” He asks, his voice rough from lack of sleep.

“What?”

“Are you going to leave?” He says again. “I just- I just need to be prepared if you’re going to leave.”

As I stare back into the echo of panic I see in his eyes, I remember that when we finished last night, he was nervous. He asked me not to leave him and it looks like that fear wasn’t assuaged by my mumbled reassurances as I drifted off to sleep. He’s probably been sitting here, tormented by the fear that I’d probably wake up, regret what I’d done and then leave him again.

“Ana, I’m sorry,” He whispers. “You said you needed boundaries… You were drunk, I shouldn’t have… Jesus, what the fuck was I thinking?”

“No, Christian, stop. I’m fine,” I tell him. “I told you last night, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Really?” He asks, but I hear more doubt than hope in his tone.

“Yes, really,” I affirm again. He stares at me for long beat, almost like he’s waiting for some kind of qualifier, but I hold his gaze purposefully, trying to express my new found commitment physically as much as I feel it emotionally. “Christian, I promise. I’m here to stay.”

“Oh, thank god,” He says, sighing in relief and pushing his hands back through his already chaotic hair.

I hug the sheet tighter around me, since I’m realizing that I’m still naked from last night, and I reach my arms out for him.

“Come here,” I say, and he gets out of his chair and crawls under the covers with me. I cuddle up next to him, laying my head on his chest as he wraps his arms tightly around me.

“I’m not going to run anymore, Christian,” I tell him. “When I left you two years ago, I wasn’t ready to deal with what had happened, not with the trial and not with you and Elena. I didn’t know what I was up against, but I do now and I’m here to fight for you. I want to be with you, Christian.”

“You do?” He asks and when he turns to look at me, there is actual shock on his face.

“Yes, I do. I miss you and I have missed you for a very long time. I miss what we had. I’m ready to try and get it back and I want to start to now.”

It takes just a moment for my confession to hit him, but once it does, he grins broadly and then leans down and takes my lips with his and it feels as though he’s kissing me with the same hunger one would expect from a starving man. I kiss him back willingly, succumbing to his passion until I have to come up for air and he pulls away. I stare back into his eyes, suddenly bright again and shining down on me victoriously.

“You have no idea what this means to me, Anastasia. How happy this makes me,” He says. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve needed you every second since you’ve been away from me. I am never going to let you go again.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” I reply. “Just promise me that being together isn’t going to stop you from going to therapy. We still have a lot to work through, I just think it will be better if we do it together instead of apart.”

“Of course. Anything you want.”

“And… don’t get mad but, I don’t think we should tell anyone that we’re back together just yet.”

“Why?” He asks, and it’s jarring when, instead of anger, there is hurt and again, doubt, in his tone.

“Because everyone that we would tell, including our therapist, seems to think it’s a bad idea for us to be together right now.”

“Elliot doesn’t think it’s a bad idea,” He argues.

“That’s because Elliot thinks that my vagina has magical Christian healing powers,” I quip and, for a brief second, the hurt in his eyes is replaced with amusement.

“Elliot is right about that,” He says, but when I give him a pointed look that tells him I’m trying to be serious right now, he rolls his eyes. “Who gives a fuck what anyone else thinks?”

“I do, because the people who would give a fuck are the people I have to work with every day. Ros told me last night that your company has a no fraternization policy and if people found out about us, I could lose my job and you could get in trouble for sexual harassment.”

“Well that’s the stupidest thing Ros has ever said.”

“Is it?”

He sighs. “Do you plan on suing me for sexual harassment?”

“No.”

“Then I can’t get in trouble. Ana, I own the company, it’s not like I could be fired and I wouldn’t let anyone fire you. Not even Ros.”

“Okay so our jobs are safe, I still have to work with everyone in your office, Christian. I don’t want people knowing that I’m the fucking the CEO. They’ll question everything I do, they’ll think you’re giving me favors or that I’m only there because I’m willing to get naked for you. They’ll treat me differently, I’ll be ostracized and gossiped about, and not just by people at GEH. Remember the photographer in the market yesterday? I don’t want the media attention that will come from being your girlfriend while I’m your intern. They’ll turn me into the next Monica Lewinski and I don’t want those things printed about me.”

He frowns but he doesn’t have any way to argue that. As much as I know he wants to, we both know that he can’t protect me from everything.

“I’ll do what I can to minimize any fallout,” He says with a heavy sigh. “But, if this is what you really want, we don’t have to tell anyone about us until your internship is over.”

“Thank-you.”

“But, just so I’m clear, we’re together now, right? You’re mine again?”

“Yes, I am,” I tell him.

He smiles and then kisses me again, leaning over me and wrapping his fingers around the bed sheet to pull it off of me, but I stop him and give him an indignant look.

“Can I take a shower before you prevail upon me yet again?” I ask, and he smiles wickedly at me.

“Oh, Ana, I don’t think you’re dirty enough yet,” He tells me. “But I can fix that.”

He dives at me again and I shriek, then giggle as he yanks the sheet away and pins me into his mattress.

“Christian!” I protest, and he groans and props himself over me, exhaling sharply.

“Fine, but let me join you.”

I look at him for a moment, and I am astounded by the change that I can already see in him. His eyes, which have been so flat and dark since I’ve been in Seattle, are already brighter, though I don’t know if that’s an actual change or simply because of his growing need for me. He really is unfairly beautiful and… he wants me. How could I turn that away?

“It is your shower,” I tell him, mischievously, and he smiles and reaches for my hand to pull me out of the bed.

Like the rest of his apartment, the bathroom is huge and overly grandiose. The walls and the floor are made of the same, ubiquitous, polished sandstone, except the long accent wall to the left which is covered by a dark brown stone textured to look almost like wood. There are two deep, square basin sinks resting on floating counters to the right, a wide walk-in glass shower that takes up the entire back wall, and a deep, egg shaped tub across from the sinks that looks more than big enough for two.

Christian opens the glass door to the shower and turns on the water, which pours onto the stone floor from a long rectangle in the ceiling, almost like rain, rather than from the wall like I’m used to. I’m already naked so while Christian strips out of his pajama bottoms and t-shirt, I step through the glass door to stand beneath the pouring water and I flinch. I’d forgotten how hot Christian takes his showers.

Seconds after, I hear the shower door close and Christian wraps his arms around me, kissing my neck for a minute before turning me around to face him. He takes my face in his hands, brushing his thumb over my cheek tenderly, but he’s gazing intently into my eyes as if he’s searching for an answer to an unspoken question.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, frowning up at him.

“Why are you still on the pill?” He replies and I look back at him with a cynical kind of glare.

“For the orgies, mostly,” I tell him sarcastically, and his expression hardens.

“Am I supposed to find that amusing?”

“Christian…”

“Are you sleeping with somebody else?” He asks and I sigh with exasperation.

“No, I’m not. I haven’t slept with anyone other than you.”

“You haven’t?”

“No, I haven’t,” I tell him, and I feel my cheeks heat as it’s slightly embarrassing to admit this to him.

“Good,” He says, but the relief in his voice makes me feel guilty because even though this is technically true, it’s not for the reason he thinks it is.

“I tried though,” I admit, and the relief in his expression fades into something close to horror.

“What? You did? With who?” He stutters.

“It doesn’t matter, nothing ever happened. Turns out I’m not really good at the whole seduction thing or even flirting really. Nothing ever even went past second base,” I tell him but, still, his jaw tenses and his nostrils flare.

Second base?”

“Barely though. More like, rounding first but out before he actually made it to the base,” I say, defensively, but he isn’t appeased.

“I’m going to need names,” He says tersely. “And any other information you have. Date of birth, mother’s maiden name, social security number…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t make it a habit of asking people their social security number.”

“Names then, Anastasia.”

I frown at him. “Christian!”

“Tell me.”

“No!” I exclaim and he narrows his eyes at me.

“Fine. Elliot will tell me.”

“Elliot doesn’t know anything.”

“Sawyer then.”

“Dead end again, Mr. Grey,” I tell him and he exhales sharply, his mouth set in a hard line as he again searches my eyes as if they will give him the answer. He’s quiet for only a second and then I see a small, self-satisfied smirk cross his lips.

“Kavanagh,” He says and I frown.

“Kate is my best friend, practically my sister. She won’t tell you anything,” I argue but he shakes his head.

“Oh, I’ll get it out of her.”

“No you won’t, and you’re not going to ask her.”

“Tell me and I won’t have to.”

“Fine, you want a name? I’ll give you one,” I tell him and he looks at me expectantly. I take a deep breath and look him very purposefully in the eye.

“Christian Grey,” I say, and he opens his mouth to argue but I hold my finger to his lips to keep him silent. “That’s the only name that matters, because that’s the name of the only man who I’ve ever cared about.”

I take my finger away from his lips and he stares back at me for a second, but he doesn’t say anything, which I assume is because he’s still mad or jealous or whatever it is that has his body so tense that I can actually feel the tightness in his muscles under my hands. Hesitantly, I lean through the water, up onto my tiptoes, and press my lips to his. He returns my kiss, mostly in a conciliatory gesture at first, but when I step into him, pressing my body against his, and the steam from the shower begins rising and swirling around us, it’s almost like something inside of him clicks and his hands reach up to the side of my face and he pushes me, a little roughly, into the shower wall.

“Where did he touch you, Anastasia?” Christian asks, and even though I probably wouldn’t have answered this question anyway, he traces his fingers down my body until he makes contact with my clitoris, and any sense of coherence I may have had to respond, is lost.

“Did he kiss you?” Christian asks.

“Yes,” I reply breathily.

“Here?” he continues, pressing his lips into mine.

“Yes.”

“What about here?” He asks, and his lips trail down my chin to my neck.

“Yes,” I breathe again.

“Did he touch you here?” He asks, his hand moving up to my breast. I whimper in protest at the sudden loss of his fingers on my most sensitive area, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers, hard enough that he elicits a small cry from me. “Answer me.”

“No.”

“Good,” He tells. “What about… here?” His fingers move down to my clitoris again, teasing me, electrifying me, and I moan.

“No, not there,” I tell him.

“No one?”

“No one. Only you,” I affirm.

“And why is that, Anastasia?”

“What?”

“Why is it that no one else has ever touched you here?”

“I-I…” I stutter, too lost in what he’s doing to me to answer him.

“Answer me, or I’ll stop.”

“Because I’ve never wanted someone else,” I reply and he groans, increasing the pressure of his fingers on me.

“Good,” He says. “This belongs to me, Anastasia. You belong to me.”

“Christian,” I moan as his fingers dip inside of me, moving slowly in and out as he continues his ministrations on my clitoris with his palm.

“Say it, Anastasia,” He commands me. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours, only yours.”

“That’s right, baby,” He says, and he lifts me so that I have to wrap myself around him to keep myself from falling, and once I’m pinned into the slick stone wall at my back, he slides his erection inside of me.

I grip tightly around his neck as he thrusts forward and although he’s not exactly gentle with me, after a minute or two, I scrape my nails over his shoulders, urging him to take me harder.

“Mmmm, you want it rough?” He moans.

“Yes,” I tell him and he leans into me, his head dropping next to mine and I feel his teeth sink into the skin on my shoulder as he thrusts forward at the same time.

“Say it again, Anastasia,” He says as he slams into me.

“I’m yours!” I tell him, panting, “Oh fuck, Christian!”

“That’s it, baby. God, I love hearing you scream my name.”

He moves his hands further up my thighs, coaxing my legs further apart so that he can move deeper inside of me. I gasp with each thrust as he pushes me against the wall again and again. I’m lost in him and in the heat and steam of the shower, in the sound of his harsh breath as he moves in and out of me, in the increasing hoarseness of the near constant string of pleasure driven screams he draws out of me.

I look down at him, his perfectly sculpted body, a true work of art, glistening from the water pouring over both of us. His muscles flex with each tantalizing movement and when his thrusts begin to increase in intensity with the urgency of his approaching orgasm, he tilts his head backwards in ecstasy.

“I’m almost there, baby,” He warns me, and the thought of his release is enough to bring me right to the edge of mine.

“Ahhh!” I cry out as I feel myself building higher and higher, and his breath hisses discordantly through his teeth.

“Fuck, Ana! Come for me,” He commands, his voice harsh under the weight of the restraint he’s using to hold off his own orgasm until I am able to finish with him. “Right now, come for me!”

“Christian!” I cry out as I feel the dam burst and I’m overcome by wave after wave of pulsing pleasure. I’m spiraling down, losing myself in the euphoria of my release and he’s right there with me. We’re lost together.

When the spasms of my orgasm slow and I can feel the weight of my own body again, I collapse against his chest, panting into to him and he leans down to kiss my wet hair before pulling out of me and easing me back onto the shower floor.

He kisses me again, a gentle caress rather than the brutal assault he inflicted on me only moments ago and I moan a small, appreciative sound when he finally pulls away.

“I still can’t believe you’re really here,” He says incredulously, looking at me with wonderment before reaching down and picking up the bottle to pour a dab of shampoo in his hand.

“And I can’t believe I stayed away this long,” I tell him as he hands the bottle to me, but I’m too enraptured watching him to worry about such trivial things as washing now. I’m content to simply marvel at the utter perfection of him and the way the suds roll down his body as he massages the shampoo into his hair. When he notices me standing there, frozen and gawking at him, he raises an eyebrow at me and then steps beneath the cascading water to rinse.

“Miss Steele, I do believe you’re staring.”

“So?”

“Am I distracting you?”

“Always,” I reply, and he smiles down at me, that heartbreakingly perfect smile that quite possibly makes him the most beautiful man on the planet. He runs his hands over his face to wipe away the excess water and then takes me in his arms again.

“I’ve given my staff the day off so that I could be alone with you today,” He tells me in a low murmur. “I think Mrs. Jones has left us croissants for breakfast. Finish up in here and then join me in the kitchen. My closet is just on the other side of the bathroom, you can wear something of mine until you decide to go downstairs and change.”

“Okay,” I agree, and he kisses me once more before stepping out of the shower and disappearing into his bedroom while wrapping a towel around his waist.

When I eventually get around to finishing up in the shower, I too wrap myself in one of the bath towels from the cupboard and then make my way to Christian’s closet in search of something clean to wear. I open the door and step into the closet, which is nearly the size of a small bedroom and begin my search for clothes.

There is a set of deep, cherry wood drawers built into the wall across from me and once I figure out how to open them (by pushing, not pulling), I begin searching for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I’m fairly callous when looking for pants, since I know everything in here is going to drown me anyway, but I dig carefully through his shirts, smirking to myself when I find an old Harvard t-shirt and slip it over my head. It’s a little too roomy for me, but it’s incredibly soft and it smells vaguely of Christian.

This is going to be mine now.

I try a few more drawers until I find his underwear, but when I push the folded boxer briefs on top to the side, something sea-green and entirely too lacy to be male underwear catches my eye. I look nervously over my shoulder to make sure Christian hasn’t decided to come check on me and then pull it out. To my horror, not only is it a pair of, quite frankly, slutty panties, it’s not the only pair I find. There is a black pair and nude pair too and my stomach roils as the horrible thought that immediately comes to mind is that these could belong to… Elena.

Oh my god, what if… I mean, did I just catch him in another lie? What if he’s sleeping with her again, and often enough that she feels the need to keep several spare pairs of underwear in his drawer? What if it’s not Elena at all? What if he’s had a parade of random girls come through here, some without even the dignity to make sure they’ve left with their freaking underwear after their one night stand? What if it’s someone I know? What if it’s Leila…?

I stop my snowballing train of thought and then steel myself, knowing this is not something I’m going to be able to ignore, and that I really shouldn’t anyway. Dr. Flynn said it was okay to fight with him, right? As long as it’s constructive. Well, here’s to screaming with a purpose.

I slam the dresser closed and march out of the room in search of Christian. As promised, he’s standing in the kitchen, pulling a plate of croissants out of the microwave.

“Hey, baby,” He says with a smile. “There’s Twining’s in here for you.”

I walk up to the breakfast bar, keeping a barrier between us and hold up the panties for him to see.

“What the fuck is this?” I ask him coldly and he turns to look at me, but the curiosity in his face melts away into something I think is shock. “You’re going to get pissed at me because I’ve kissed someone when you have another girl’s freaking panties stashed away in your drawer? Who are you fucking, Christian?”

“Ana, that’s not what that is. That’s nothing,” He says dismissively, and I feel anger boil up inside of me. Keep it constructive, Ana. Do not say anything you’re going to regret later.

“This isn’t nothing, Christian,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice even. “Are these Elena’s?”

“No!” He exclaims, almost disgusted.

“Then where did they come from?” I ask and he raises an eyebrow at me and then laughs. “You think this is funny?” I demand.

“Yes, I do,” He says pointedly. “Ana, those are yours.”

“What?” I ask, frowning, and he reaches out for them, holding up the black pair for me first.

“You wore this pair the night I took your virginity in Vegas. This is the pair you wore our first night together in my dorm room, and these ones I took the night I fucked you on Astor Harrington’s bed. Consequently, I have the pair you wore last night, too. Right here.” He reaches into the pocket of his pajama bottoms and pulls out the lavender tanga panties I was wearing last night.

“Oh…” I say, feeling embarrassed as I realize that, yes, I suppose I do vaguely recognize each pair. Oh hell. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t remember…”

“After everything I’ve done to try and prove the depth of my feelings for you, you really thought I’d let some other girl into my bed?”

“I don’t know. We were apart for so long…”

“Time means nothing, I said forever. I meant forever, Anastasia.”

“So, you really never…?” I ask and he shakes his head.

“No.”

“Not even close?”

He frowns and looks down at the plate of croissants in front of him. I know that isn’t a great sign.

“Well, I mean… I thought about it. Once. Just once,” He admits.

“What happened?”

“It was New Year’s Eve, the first year after you left me. It would have been our first year anniversary and I wasn’t… handling it well. Ros was going to some party downtown and she dragged me out to celebrate the deal that we landed with Amazon, but Gwen was there and it turns out that being around a couple falling in love with each other is not the best way to stop thinking about your brother getting to spend New Year’s with the woman you love when you can’t. I remember, I kept worrying about who you were going to kiss at Midnight and eventually, Elliot stopped answering my texts and my imagination started going wild. So, I went across the street to the Hotel 1000 and ordered a few drinks at the bar there.”

“And?”

“And there was a woman there. She was looking at me like she was interested so, I bought her a drink. We talked for a while and then she invited me up to her room. I was going to say yes. I was going take her upstairs and just… try to forget about everything for one night. But the moment I imagined what it would be like, what it would feel like, I realized that there was no pleasure in the idea of having her. It felt like cheating on you and it made me want to be sick. So I paid the tab, told her goodnight and I went home. I haven’t thought about anyone else since.”

“Really?”

“Really. Ana, it’s only you. It’s only ever going to be you. You’re the love of my life, how could I ever want anyone else?”

I’m left speechless, dumbfounded even, by his admission. Still, after all this time, after everything that’s happened between us and after I did everything I could to cut him out of my life, his devotion hasn’t wavered at all. I walk around the bar and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling myself up so that I can kiss him.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” I tell him.

“I’m sorry I’ve ever given you reason.”

He kisses me again and when he pulls away, I smile and then pick up a pair of panties off the counter. “These have been cleaned, right?”

“Of course they’ve been cleaned,” He says, rolling his eyes. “You think I’d just keep an old, worn pair of panties in my underwear drawer?”

“Like that’s any better than having them at all?” I laugh. “But I’m glad to know you’re not disgusting, just perverted.” I give him a sly smile and reach down to pull the panties on under my t-shirt.

“Excuse me, those are mine now,” He says, and I give him a challenging look.

“Then you’ll have to get them off of me, Mr. Grey.”

“Oh, challenge accepted, Miss Steele,” He replies, and he picks me up and places me on the counter. I wrap my legs and arms around him but just as his lips come crashing down on mine, we hear the high ping of the elevator from the foyer.

“I don’t know, Kate, maybe she went over to Luke’s apartment for the night,” A voice that sounds suspiciously like Elliot says.

“She doesn’t have her cell phone, how would she call Luke to come and get her?”

“Fuck,” Christian hisses, and he yanks me down from the counter, pulling the t-shirt I’m wearing down over my barely covered behind as much as he can.

“What if she was kidnapped? I’m telling you we should call the police,” Kate continues, and both she and Elliot step into the living room and see Christian and I standing in the kitchen, all wet hair and only partially dressed.

A broad smile creeps slowly across Elliot’s face. “Well, good morning. What have you two been doing?” He asks in a teasing voice.

“We’re about to have breakfast,” Christian says in a cool, easy tone, despite the fact that we’ve nearly just been caught red-handed. “Would you care to join us?”

“Worked up an appetite?” Elliot asks pointedly and Christian rolls his eyes.

“Ana left her purse at the bar last night and was locked out of her apartment. I offered to let her stay here until we could collect her things.”

“You have a key…” Elliot argues, undeterred.

“I was tired,” I counter.

“I bet you were,” Elliot says, grinning wider now and Christian huffs with exasperation.

“Can I help you, Elliot?” He asks.

“Well, Kate was going to drop off Ana’s purse for her and then we were heading to Mom’s for brunch. I thought you might like to join us. Of course, if you had other plans…”

Christian frowns and I know it’s because he did have other plans, but going to his parents’ house means he’ll get to spend time with Mia and that is important to him too. Especially after what happened Friday night. They still haven’t really talked about that yet.

“Do you want to go and have brunch with my family?” Christian asks, his tone making it clear that if I don’t go, he won’t either.

“Sure, sounds great,” I tell him. “Your mom has been asking me to come over.”

“Good, then it’s settled,” Kate says quickly. “Why don’t you two keep each other company for a while and Ana and I will head down to her apartment so she can… change. Meet you downstairs in twenty minutes?”

“Sounds good,” Elliot says with a shrug.

Kate gives me an impatient look and then nods her head sharply towards the foyer, so I scurry around the counter, pulling the t-shirt down to cover as much of myself as possible, and make my way to Christian’s room to grab the sweats I left in the closet. When I come back into the living room, Elliot is telling Christian how the perfect complement to his new couch would be a 110″ LCD TV and NFL Sunday Ticket.

I give Christian a sympathetic glance and then follow Kate into the foyer.

Once we’re in the elevator, I expect her to immediately start giving me the third degree, but she doesn’t. She just stares at me expectantly, which is fine because it’s really not that hard for me to ignore. The doors open and I lead the way down the hall to my apartment. Kate pulls my silver clutch out of her purse and as I unlock the door, I almost think I’m going to get away with not talking about what she saw upstairs, but the second I hear the door close behind me, the examination begins.

“What’s going on?” She asks.

“We’re getting ready to go to brunch,” I reply, evasively.

“Cut the crap, Ana. Don’t act like I just didn’t find you naked in Christian Grey’s apartment.”

“I wasn’t naked!” When you found me.

“No, you were just standing around in his t-shirt after you both had clearly been in the shower.”

“He has more than one shower, Kate.”

She narrows her eyes. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t expect you to believe anything,” I tell her, hoping my cavalier attitude will be enough to dissuade her line of questioning. “Nothing happened. Believe what you want, I don’t care.”

She frowns and I turn around and walk quickly into my bedroom, pulling out my phone and plugging it into the charger by the bed. Kate only bought me 20 minutes, so I don’t have time to do much more than pull my hair up in a messy bun, throw on some tinted moisturizer and mascara and change out of Christian’s clothes. I smile to myself as I tuck his Harvard t-shirt into my top dresser drawer, and then pull a flowy cerulean colored sundress out of my closet. When I’m dressed, I pick up my phone again and see that, over the course of the night, I’ve missed six calls and three voicemails.

I flip through my missed texts, and surprisingly, I find one from Christian from about a minute ago.

I plan on getting those panties back by the end of the night, Anastasia. Make no mistake about that

I shake my head but decide not to dignify his threats with a response. I even think briefly of changing my underwear so I can preemptively circumvent him, because I know that he’s more than capable of breaking my already weak self-control, but… where’s the fun in that?

I smile at the challenge and exit out of my text messages. Before I can slip the phone in my bag though, I notice the google notification in the taskbar…


Google Alert: Christian Grey

TMZ, May 23rd 2010: Grey’s New Love? Summer might not be the only thing in the air for Seattle’s most eligible bachelor, Grey Enterprises Holdings CEO, Christian Grey. Mr. Grey was spotted shopping in Pike’s Market with a mystery young woman on Saturday afternoon. Sources say the new couple looked very cozy with one another, talking, laughing and even canoodling when they were sure no one was looking […]


Oh no…

I click the article and look carefully for pictures of the two of us together or any mention of my name. To my relief I come up empty handed, but still, I know this isn’t a good sign. If there were paparazzi in the market just on some anonymous tip to one news outlet, what will an article on TMZ do? Then, as if the universe is trying to warn me what’s in store, my phone buzzes again, and again… and again…


Google Alert: Christian Grey

X17Online, May 23rd 2010: Eligible no more! Christian Grey, CEO of Grey Enterprises was seen out and about with a new mystery girl, and it was hot, hot, hot! Though no statements have been released by Mr. Grey himself, sources close to the new couple say that things are very serious. “They’re in love and it won’t be long before there is an engagement announcement.”


Google Alert: Christian Grey

Perez Hilton, May 23rd 2010: Grey not gay! Apparently, Christian Grey was seen in Seattle this weekend with a mystery girl who is believed to be his new girlfriend. Eyewitness accounts say they were quite handsy with one another, but there is an astounding lack of evidence to support these claims. Is this possibly Mr. Grey’s PR department trying to cover up the sexual preferences of the most powerful man in Seattle? Pics or it didn’t happen Grey!


Google Alert: Christian Grey:

EOnline, May 23rd 2010: Hot New Couple Alert! Christian Grey, CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings, is rumored to have a new woman in his life. No name or pictures of the lucky lady have been released, but EOnline will keep you updated as this story develops.


I look down at the phone, feeling a surge of panic but know there isn’t anything I can do about this now. Surely, Christian has some kind of PR person that can deal with this, right? Even if they can’t just make it go away, I’m sure they can spin it into something else.

I try to imagine what that might be as Kate and I leave my apartment and head downstairs where we find Christian and Elliot waiting by the elevator. As we take the walkway towards Christian’s parking places, I tug gently on his sleeve to get him to fall back a few paces from Kate and Elliot.

“I should drive to your parents’ house with Kate,” I tell him, and he raises an eyebrow at me so I hand him my phone to show him the google alerts. “We’re trying to keep this secret, remember? Elliot was never good at keeping secrets, and he works at GEH. If I go with Kate, it might throw them off the scent.”

He looks down at the screen of my phone, dismayed, before turning back to me. “So, you’re saying you don’t want us to be seen together in public at all?”

I shake my head. “I promise, just until the end of the summer.”

He frowns but doesn’t argue with me. Instead, he sighs and turns to look at Elliot.

“Elliot!” He calls, and his brother turns around to look at him. “Want to drive the Veyron?”

Elliot’s jaw drops open at he looks at Christian as though he must have heard him incorrectly. “Are you serious?” He asks.

“Completely. But just know that if you so much as scratch it, I will literally murder you.”

“Deal,” Elliot says excitedly, ignoring Christian’s ridiculous threat. He takes the keys Christian holds out for him and practically runs to the driver’s side door of the sports car parked next to Kate’s BMW. Christian rolls his eyes and follows after him while I climb into the car with Kate.

“Why didn’t you want to go with Christian?” Kate asks as we follow Elliot out of the parking garage.

“Well besides the fact that you’re my best friend and I don’t think I should get the third degree for wanting to spend time with you…” I begin, “Christian went with me down to Pike’s Market yesterday and there was this photographer there trying to get my name. Christian stopped him from getting a picture of the two of us together, but there were still a bunch of google alerts that came out this morning saying he was dating someone. I just don’t want people thinking we’re together since I’m his intern.”

“So… you two really aren’t hooking up?” Kate asks.

“No, Kate,” I lie. “I told you, we’re just friends. But a magazine isn’t going to care about the truth, they’re going to print whatever sells and the hot, young CEO of the fastest growing company in the country sleeping with an intern has scandal written all over it. I don’t want to be identified as his mystery girlfriend and so it’s best we’re not seen together in public at all until my internship is over, or the story goes away. Or they lie and identify someone else, I guess.”

“I’ll do it,” She says suddenly, and then turns to look at me, smiling broadly.

“Do what?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I could be his mystery girlfriend. It would be hilarious! Oooh, and then it could come out that I’m sleeping with his brother and we could have this huge break up that leads to a he said/she said tabloid war. It’ll be epic!”

I roll my eyes. “Kate, I think his goal is to stay out of the papers.”

“Well that’s boring,” She replies, disappointed. I laugh and shake my head.

Elliot takes full advantage of the Bugatti’s horsepower and it isn’t long before they are nowhere in sight. By the time we pull up to the Grey’s house, we find both Christian and Elliot waiting next to Christian’s car for us and it looks as though they’ve been here a few minutes at least.

“It was so amazing, Kate,” Elliot says as we take the walk up to the front door. “It practically glides over the road. There’s no drag at all. Christian, I think as a thank you to me for never exercising my right as your older brother to beat the shit out of you, you should gift me your car.”

“I think you’re fucking delusional,” Christian replies with a laugh.

We walk into the house, but since no one is there to greet us at the front door, we have to go on a search for the rest of the Greys. We find them in the kitchen, Grace stirring a pot on the stove, Carrick slicing fruit on the counter next to her and Mia sitting at the breakfast bar on her phone. They look up to greet us, and Grace’s eyes widen with surprise when she sees Christian.

“Christian!” She says happily, reaching down to turn off the gas burner and pulling the pot off the heat before walking around the counter and wrapping him in a hug. “I’m so happy to see you, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Elliot came and got Ana and I this morning,” He explains and while Grace gives her other son an appreciative hug, I turn my focus on Carrick. He’s staring at Christian, jaw tense, but his expression otherwise unreadable.

“Dad,” Christian greets him with a stiff nod.

“Christian,” Carrick replies with the same formal kind of air.

There is an awkward tension between the two of them as they stare intently at one another. It’s almost like a weird power struggle between them and the atmosphere of the room is uncomfortable for a long moment until Grace finally breaks the silence.

“Well, breakfast is almost ready. Why don’t you boys go set the table? Mia, help your brothers.”

I follow Christian into the kitchen and pull forks and knives out of the drawer next to the sink while he reaches into the cabinet to collect plates, and then everyone aside from Grace and Carrick heads into the dining room.

“Hey, thanks for covering for me the other night, Christian. That was really cool of you,” Mia says as we lay the dishes around the table, but Christian just looks up and glares at her.

“Don’t think it’s because I approve,” He says. “We still need to have a talk about that.”

“Talk about what?” Elliot asks.

“About your little sister doing drugs at a college party on Friday night,” Christian snarls.

“What?” Elliot and Kate shriek in unison.

“Shh!” Mia hisses, glancing nervously at the kitchen door. “Keep your voice down, Mom and Dad will hear you.”

“Good,” Elliot says. “Mom!”

“Elliot!” Mia protests.

“Knock it off, Elliot,” Christian says quietly. “If Dad finds out, he’s just going to make it worse. I’m handling it.”

Elliot gives Christian a suspicious look as Grace pops her head around the corner.

“What is it, dear?” She asks and Elliot caves under Christian’s hard glare.

“Is this how you the want the table set?” He asks.

Grace raises an eyebrow but glances quickly around the table. “It looks fine to me,” She says, “I think we’re done in here, why don’t you all come help bring the food to the table?”

Grace has outdone herself with eggs benedict made with smoked salmon, roasted herb potatoes, blueberry lemon scones, a pile of bacon, and a fresh fruit salad. She chats happily with everyone as the bowls are passed around the table, asking each of us in turn how our lives and work are going. Elliot is much more enthusiastic when talking about work now than he ever was in Cambridge and Kate happily tells everyone how much she’s already been able to accomplish at Kavanagh Media this summer.

“And how about you, Ana?” Grace asks. “I hear you’ve written a book and it might get published. That’s wonderful dear.”

“Yeah,” I reply, feeling a little embarrassed by the praise in her tone. “It’s being edited now and I filed for a copyright about a month ago.”

“What’s it about?” She asks.

“Oh, uh…” I falter, looking uneasily at Christian who is watching me intently. “I suppose it’s mostly about overcoming depression. Really I think it’s a examination of the human condition and the resilience of hope when we’re forced to deal with unexpected loss.”

“It’s brilliant,” Kate interjects, smiling proudly at me. “Seriously, it’s unbelievably moving. Even Elliot teared up a little in the end.”

“I was not prepared,” Elliot says.

“So you’ve both read it then?” Christian asks.

“Of course we have,” Kate says. “I’m the one who encouraged her to submit it for her advanced fiction writing class. I’ve been pushing her to get it published since I started reading the first drafts.”

Christian frowns, and I know it’s because when he asked for a copy I told him no. I just think he’s a little too close to the project. Kate was far enough removed that she could enjoy it objectively, I worry that if I let Christian read it, it will hurt him.

“Well, I’d love a copy,” Grace says. “It’s such an amazing accomplishment. Carrick and I are very proud of you, Anastasia.”

“Thanks, Grace,” I say, flushing again.

“And how is your internship going this summer?”

“Fine,” I tell her, and I’m disappointed that she continues to look at me, clearly wanting details of my first week. Anything I’d have to talk about with her on this topic is going to be underwhelming compared to what Kate and Elliot have shared. “This week I reviewed a bunch of contracts and I… didn’t get Christian’s coffee wrong even one time.”

“Coffee?” Carrick scoffs, and then he turns a hard look on Christian. “You have a Harvard student who is about to become a published author working in your office and you’re using her to get you coffee?”

“No,” Christian says irritably. “She’s here for something much more important than coffee, but the project I have for her doesn’t fall under GEH control until June first. She’s been helping my assistant in the meantime.”

“I see,” Carrick says shortly, and then he turns back to his food.

“Carrick,” Grace prods him gently. “It’s been awhile since you’ve seen your son. Surely you’re interested in what he’s been up to.”

Carrick frowns but under Grace’s insistent gaze, he turns to Christian once more. “How’s business?” He asks.

“Fine,” Christian says, briskly. “Actually, it’s great. My fiber optics division just secured a contract that will more than double its revenue outlook. GEH’s bottom line should surpass a billion dollars by the end of the fiscal year.”

“Wait, so you’re officially going to be a billionaire?” Elliot asks.

“Come July, yes,” Christian says.

“Holy shit!” Elliot says and then his face lights up. “Well my birthday is in August so let’s talk about what colors that Bugatti comes in.”

“Keep dreaming, Elliot,” Christian says, fighting to keep the smile off his face. “I am finally going to be able to buy my jet though. Boeing has been holding something special for me.”

“A private jet?” Kate asks excitedly.

“Yes, I travel a lot for business and I’ve never been fond of commercial airlines. They’re very crowded.”

“Well that’s wonderful, son,” Grace says. “Your father and I are so proud of you. All of these different businesses that you’ve brought together and made successful, it’s just astounding.”

“Yes, diversification is important,” Carrick adds. “Fiber Optics, Construction, Manufacturing… tell me, Christian, how’s the salon business these days?”

I drop my fork and the clatter of it hitting my plate reverberates through the dining room as everyone falls silent and turns nervously to face both Carrick and Christian. They’re both glaring at each other, neither backing down from the unspoken challenge behind Carrick’s words and the sense of tension in the room returns, so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Booming,” Christian says, shortly. “More and more profitable every quarter.”

“Well I suppose that isn’t difficult when the person you have running it has no sense of ethics. Should we be worried about the type of business practices you’re undoubtedly turning a blind eye on?”

“Carrick!” Grace says angrily, but Christian ignores her.

“I assure you, every division of my company is held to the highest ethical standards and that includes my management staff.”

“I’m sure it does,” Carrick replies, and the muscle in Christian’s jaw twitches. It’s silent around the table as we all try to avoid saying anything to set either of them off, until eventually, Mia pushes her plate forward and backs her chair away from the table.

“Well, this has been fun,” She says sarcastically. “But if you all are just going to fight, then I’m going to go ahead and leave. I’m late to meet my friends anyway.” She begins walking around the table but Christian reaches out to stop her.

“What friends are you meeting?” He asks, his gaze baring into her.

“Just some kids from school, relax,” She replies, yanking her arm out of Christian’s grasp and then she turns to look at Grace.

“Thanks for another great family get together, Mom,” She says. “We really should do it more often.”

“Amelia!” Carrick yells, but Mia has already disappeared into the kitchen.

“Great, Dad,” Elliot says, angrily. “You couldn’t even give us just one morning?”

Carrick glances around the table to each and every person giving him a disapproving look and he shakes his head and picks his cell up off the table. “I have some phone calls to make,” He says.

“Sure, just walk away!” Grace says, but Carrick too simply storms out of the dining room leaving us all to sit over half eaten plates of food, surrounded by the harsh words that still seem to be echoing around the room. I look at Christian, and he’s pushing his food around his plate, grinding his teeth together.

“Mom…” He says eventually, but Grace interrupts him.

“I’m sorry, Christian,” She says. “He’s just… he’s hurt more than anything. He loves you, you know he loves you, but he’s just struggling to deal with some of his own disappointments…”

“I don’t care about him,” Christian says. “I need to talk to you about Mia.”

“I know,” Grace sighs. “But, she’s a teenager. It’s a phase, you both with through it too. She’ll come around.”

“I don’t think so,” Christian says. “I think she’s following more in my footsteps than Elliot’s.”

“What do you mean?” Grace asks, and her face morphs with sudden foreboding.

“She didn’t come to my house after her ballet auditions on Friday,” Christian says. “I picked her up from a party she was at that got but busted by the police. I was able to stop her from being arrested but she was drinking and she was smoking weed.”

“What?” Grace snaps. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because, I was afraid of what Dad would do if you two found out. I’m worried about her. I think she’s having a harder time dealing with all of this family discord than she’s letting on and she’s making unhealthy decisions to cope with it. I know what that’s like, and I don’t want her to go through what I went through. Ballet is a healthy outlet for her and I was afraid that if Dad found out she’d been doing drugs, he’d make her quit and try to lock her down like he did to me. That’s only going to make it worse. She needs understanding and guidance, she doesn’t need to be punished.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Grace says with a nod. “I’ll talk to her alone this evening and we’ll come up with a plan together. Maybe she could take a few extra dance classes a week or maybe she could even get a job, even if it’s just to occupy her time.”

“I could find something for her if you need me to,” Christian offers, and Grace nods.

“I’ll talk to her about it and see what she thinks.”

“Good, let me know.”

While Christian, Elliot and Grace discuss the Mia issue further, Kate and I clear the dishes from the table and clean the kitchen. We’re hovering awkwardly for a while, glancing nervously in the direction of Carrick’s office as we wonder if he’ll even come out again while Christian is here. He doesn’t though and it isn’t long before the three of them come out of the dining room, looking a little more confident in their plan of action.

“Are you ready to go?” Christian asks me. “I can give you a ride home so Kate doesn’t have to drive into Seattle to drop you off.”

“Sure, thanks,” I say, remembering almost too late that he’s saying this because we’re supposed to be keeping our newly rekindled relationship a secret.

We each hug, Grace, Elliot and Kate goodbye and then he leads me back through the house towards his car. The moment we’re through the front door, he clasps his hand around mine and I rub my thumb over the side of his hand reassuringly.

“Are you okay?” I ask as we pull down the long driveway, the engine of the Veyron growling beneath the hood as Christian turns onto the road.

“I’m fine,” He says.

“You can talk to me if you need to,” I tell him. “I mean, that was… intense back there. I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to vent to or talk to about anything, that I’m here.”

He glances over at me and then reaches over to place his hand on my knee, stroking his fingers gently over the fabric of my dress. “Thank you,” He tells me. “I’m glad you came today.”

“Me too.”

“This really is real, isn’t it?” He asks. “You and me?”

“Of course it’s real, Christian,” I tell him and then, to prove my point, I unfasten my seatbelt so I can lean over the distance between us and kiss him on the cheek.

“Get back in your seat,” He says disapprovingly, although he’s trying to suppress a smile. “I’m driving a $2.5 million car right now and you’re distracting me.”

“I’m not sorry, Mr. Billionaire,” I tell him, purposefully pulling my dress up over my knee as I cross my legs so that his fingers make contact with my exposed skin. He looks over at me again, and lets out a long frustrated breath before turning his eyes on the road and putting his foot down on the gas.

The moment he pulls the car into the parking space back in the garage under Escala, he reaches over and pulls me into him, kissing me hard.

“Let’s get you upstairs and naked,” He whispers against my lips and I moan in approval.

Once we’re out of the car, he takes my hand and practically drags me down the long walkway towards the elevator. I wait impatiently as he enters the code for his apartment and the second the doors clothes, he grabs ahold of me, pins me to the wall and imprisons my lips with his again.

Our hands fly hungrily over each other, gripping and pulling at the other’s clothes while the elevator moves at what feels like a crawl towards the 31st floor. I feel Christian’s fingers entwine in my hair, tugging slightly so that my head lolls back and he can kiss my neck. He reaches under my dress, gripping my behind, and then moves his hand down my thigh, pulling it up over his hips and then lifting me into the air. I wrap myself around him and kiss him again and once the elevator pings and the doors open, he carries me into his apartment.

We don’t make it to the bedroom. Instead, he sets me on the back of his couch and we both immediately start peeling our clothes off. Once my dress and panties are discarded on the floor by his feet, he grips my knees, brings me to the edge of the couch and pulls my knees apart. The movement causes me to fall backwards so that I’m upside down and my head is resting on the cushion. I can’t see him this way, but I can feel him. He strokes himself against me, lubricating the tip of his erection before he plunges inside of me.

I gasp, loudly, as the position we’re in gives him the perfect angle to the place inside of me that ignites my body with pleasure.

“Hold on, Ana,” He grunts as he begins thrusting in and out of me. “This is going to be quick, and this is going to be hard.”

I whimper and grasp onto the back of the couch as he wraps my leg around him so that he can force himself deeper into me. His hands clamp down on my hips and since my position over the couch leaves me unable to move, he pulls me back into him. He’s gripping me so tightly, I wonder briefly if his fingers will leave behind bruises, but I don’t care. I want him to hold me tighter, to take me harder. It’s a hedonistic masochism that is beyond rational thought and I’m enraptured with it.

“Oh god, Christian, harder!” I beg and miraculously, he complies, groaning as he pounds into me again and again.

“Like that, baby?” He asks. “Is that going to make you come?”

“Yes!” I scream and he growls a deep, animalistic sound.

“God, you’re beautiful like this,” He whispers. “And you feel so fucking good.”

He rests his hand down on my stomach, just above my pubic bone, and he presses down so that I feel him moving against the front wall of my vagina and my body begins to shudder as my orgasm approaches.

“That’s it, give it up for me, baby. I want to feel you come on my cock.”

He shifts me again, pulling my legs together and moving them over his shoulder so that he can grip onto me while he thrusts again and again. I don’t last much longer and when his hand falls down to my breast, gripping me tightly before tugging gently on my nipple, I’m sent falling over the edge and I come, spectacularly, around him, pushing him to his own release.

He stills inside of me, resting his face against my legs as we come down from the high together. I feel exposed here, naked and sprawled out in his living room in the middle of the day, when I’m so used to his staff lurking around just out of sight.

“You’re sure Taylor isn’t here?” I ask, reaching up to cover my breasts and he smirks down at me.

“Don’t worry, baby. You wouldn’t be here like this if we weren’t alone. Taylor is with his daughter. He won’t be back until tomorrow morning,” Christian says.

I wince as he pulls out of me and reaches down to pick up my dress off the floor. He tosses it to me and as I right myself on the couch and slip the dress over my head, he holds up my discarded panties, his eyes shining with mirth.

“Shit!” I say as I realize what’s happened.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Steele,” He says with an overly satisfied smile, tucking the panties into his fist, and I can do nothing but glare at him as he picks up his own clothes and saunters victoriously through the apartment towards his bedroom.

Next Chapter

Chapter 13

Image result for nightclub

I’m still distracted by thoughts of Christian’s kiss as I try and get ready for my night out with Ros and Kate and so every menial task takes me forever. After I finally get out of the shower and finish my hair and makeup, I find myself staring at the clothes hanging in my closet, only half-heartedly sorting through everything in here since I know I didn’t bring any clothes back from Cambridge that I would consider suitable for a nightclub. Knowing Kate, she’s going to go all out tonight and the plethora of business attire dresses, skirts and blouses in front of me are not going to live up to the standard she’s going to set.

Maybe I should have asked her to bring me something or maybe I should have added dress shopping to my list of errands this morning. I smile at the thought of Christian walking irritably through a department store with me while I searched through the different racks of sequin covered dresses and then pacing back and forth outside the dressing room while I try on my finds, or maybe even coming back and helping me with the zipper and then…

I shake my head to bring myself out of the ensuing fantasy and then sigh and take out a simple black dress. The hem is a little longer and the neckline a little higher than something I would have chosen for a night out on the town, but I’m hoping the black pumps, sleek hair and winged eye liner will up the bombshell factor enough that no one will notice this dress is more suitable for a boardroom than a nightclub.

Once I’m finished checking my make up one last time, I slip the money I’d taken out at the ATM this morning for cab fare into my bra and then put the rest of the cash I have for the night into a small silver clutch. I learned a harsh lesson on one of my very first bar hopping adventures with Kate about keeping cab money separate from drinking money. Last year, Kate and I had a little too much fun at the bars in downtown Cambridge, but when everything closed down, we both discovered we were out of cash and ended up having to walk two and a half miles home in stilettos. It was a consequence I had to live with for weeks as the blisters healed and it’s not a mistake I plan to make again. Especially since I don’t really think Christian would be too happy about the ugg boots I’d have to wear in the office while I recovered.

It’s dark out by the time I’m ready to leave and I feel rushed as I throw the last of my things in my clutch before heading out the door. I make my way down to the lobby and then out to the street to hail down a cab. I’m meeting Kate and Ros at a sushi restaurant called Gaba Sushi, which is located in the heart of Pioneer Square. Since I’m supposed to be at the restaurant at 8:30, but I don’t make it out of my apartment until 8:25, I’m the last to arrive. The hostess leads me back to a table where I see Kate, Ros and a pretty blonde woman who I assume must be Ros’s girlfriend, Gwen. They’ve already got a round of drinks in front of them.

“Ana!” Kate says excitedly when I get to the table. “You look hot!”

“Thanks, Kate. I’m sorry I’m late. I’ve had a… weird day,” I tell her, glancing quickly at her outfit. I was right to think she’d be dressed to the nines tonight. She’s wearing a low cut dress that is so shimmery it almost looks as though it’s made of liquid and her platinum hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, hanging long and stick straight down her back.

“Don’t worry about it. We ordered you a drink,” Kate says, and I look down at the tangerine colored cocktail in front of the empty seat.

“Ana, this is Gwen,” Ros says as I take a seat and take a sip of the cocktail, which tastes of champagne, citrus, and some kind of sweet, tangy syrup. I reach out to shake Gwen’s hand but she gets out of her seat and yanks me up into a hug.

“Hi, Gwen,” I say with a surprised laugh as she releases me and returns to her seat.

“Sorry, I’ve just heard so much about you, I feel like I know you. Ros told me that you used to date Christian and I have so many questions for you.”

“Oh… we never measured it,” I reply, deadpan, as I take another sip of my drink, and although Kate snorts into her own drink next to me, Gwen looks at me confused for a minute before she gets the joke and laughs again.

“Oh, I like her,” She says turning to Ros, but Ros just takes a deep breath and shakes her head.

“I’d actually prefer it if we could get through the night without talking about Christian Grey’s penis, ladies,” She says, but Kate begins shaking her head.

“I don’t know if I can agree to that,” She says. “You see, I went over to the Greys’ this morning to have breakfast with Elliot, and Grace told me that somebody was over at Christian’s apartment awfully late last night.”

I flush, though not because of anything that happened last night, and Ros turns a hard look on me.

“You two aren’t back together are you?” She asks.

“No.”

“Really?” She presses me.

“No, Ros! We’re not back together.”

“Good,” She says with a nod. “Because GEH has a very strict fraternization policy. You’re his direct subordinate, Ana. He could face sexual harassment allegations and you could be forced out. It’s a PR nightmare waiting to happen and we’re on the verge of something big that GEH can’t risk losing because you two can’t keep your hands off each other. Frankly, I was a little concerned when he told me he was hiring you just because of your history, but because I know that you’re qualified for what he has planned for you, I let it go. You need to be careful though.”

“The only reason anything would happen to either of them would be if Ana reported him,” Kate argues but Ros shakes her head.

“If anybody reports it,” Ros says, shaking her head. “And his little doe eyed receptionist watches him like a hawk. Look, in the end, I’m rooting for you guys, Ana. Christian is one of my best friends in the entire world and he was never happier than when he was with you, but if you’re thinking about getting back together with him, I think you should wait until the end of the summer.”

“We’re not together. I was just there last night as a friend. We’re just friends,” I tell her, and even though it’s technically the truth, the words taste like a lie as they roll off my tongue. Probably because I know where we’re headed and that we’re already planning to spend an entire day alone together in his apartment tomorrow. Could I resist him again, like I did this afternoon? The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth as I realize that, I could… but I don’t want to.

“Good,” Ros says.

“Hmm…” Kate frowns. “Elliot was so excited when Grace told him. He was going on and on all day about how you two would be back together by Christian’s birthday next month. He’s going to be so disappointed.”

“Well, you can apologize to him for me. I do have some news for you though,” I tell her, and she looks back at me, her interest peaked. “I made up with Luke. He came over last night and we vegged out on the couch and watched It Happened One Night.

“Oh my god, Ana. How many times are you going to torture him with that movie?”

“Literally as many times as I can get away with it,” I reply, and we both laugh.

We put in our order for sushi and seaweed salads and spend the next hour or so laughing over great food and strong cocktails. Once we’re finished, Kate insists we have to stop in one of the bars on the way since she doesn’t want to get to the nightclub before 10:30, but she also doesn’t want to stop drinking. When we do finally make it to Trinity, I’m already starting to feel the effects of the alcohol I’ve consumed up to this point, and as we stand in the line waiting to get in, I have trouble keeping up with the bubbly conversation between Ros, Gwen and Kate, though I think that’s more because my mind keeps wandering back to Christian and the way he felt against me this afternoon.

I wonder what he’s doing right now?

I pull out my phone to send him a quick text to find out, but before I can finishing typing, Kate grabs onto my arm and pulls me forward. We’re being ushered to the front of the line and into the club by the bouncer.

“Thank god for Kate’s boobs,” Ros laughs as we head past the line of people shooting us irritated glances and through the door to the club.

“And Ana’s ass,” Kate adds, slapping my behind. I squeal and then turn an indignant look back at her but the innocent pouty face she gives me just makes me laugh.

Trinity is loud, and packed full of people. I hold tightly to Kate’s hand as we weave our way through the crowd bouncing up and down to the heavy bass sounds booming out of the speakers next to the DJ. The bar is crowded, dozens of people standing around trying to get the bartender’s attention, but all Kate has to do is lean slightly over the wood counter top and flash the bartender a dazzling smile for our drinks to start being poured.

The bartender lines up shots of tequila and four peach colored cocktails for us and we lift the shots into the air, clinking them together, and then slam them down. The tequila goes down like fire, making me grimace, and I take a quick sip of my cocktail to chase it down. Mmm, Sex on the Beach.

We head back out to find a table we can all stand around and once we’re able to set down our bags and drinks, we begin to dance to the thumping music. I feel Kate’s arms snake around me and I grab onto her, moving my body in time with hers as we lose ourselves in the music and the flashing colored lights.

The night passes in a blur, though I don’t know if that’s because of the rounds of tequila shots Ros and Gwen keep buying or the dancing with Kate but it feels like hardly any time has passed at all before I feel my energy rapidly declining.

“Another round, ladies?” Gwen says, returning from the bar with four drinks in her hands.

“One more, but this is it for me,” I tell her, as she hands me the murky, golden cocktail.

“Oh, come on, Ana!” Kate complains. “It’s barely past 12:30. The club doesn’t close for two more hours! Stay with us one more hour at least!”

“I can’t,” I tell her, trying to cover a yawn and she pouts.

“One more song then?” She asks as I finish my drink.

“Okay,” I relent, and she smiles and pulls me out onto the dance floor. I pose with her as she takes pictures of the two of us dancing with her phone and once the song ends, she takes me out the front doors to the line of cabs waiting to pick up the people drunkenly stumbling out of the club.

“Brunch tomorrow?” She asks me as I slide into the back seat of the taxi closest to me.

“I don’t know. I had a lot of tequila, and I don’t have your superhero level ability to recover,” I say with a small laugh. “I’m probably going to be wrecked but call me in the morning and I’ll let you know.”

“Alright, drink some water,” She tells me, and I roll my eyes and close the door to the cab.

When I get to Escala, I pull the money out of my bra to pay the driver and then hurry through the main doors of the lobby, which I have to open with the special resident’s code. As I stumble my way out of the elevator onto my floor, I discover that I’m actually drunker than I thought I was. It’s hard to navigate the narrow hallway in these shoes and I have to hold my hand against the wall to keep myself steady. Unfortunately, when I get to the door of my apartment, I have a horrible, gut wrenching realization.

I don’t have my purse.

And without my purse, I don’t have my phone, my keys… I don’t have anything. I’m locked out and I can’t even call Kate to see if I left my purse at the bar or ask her if she’ll grab it for me. Shit, what if I left it in the cab? I groan and rest my head against the door, trying to figure out what I’m going to do. I can’t even go down to the service desk because the apartment is in Christian’s name and all of my service requests have to go through him…

Wait, Christian! He owns the apartment, he probably has a key. Crap, I wish I had my phone so that I could see what time it was. I’m pretty sure that it has to be after one o’clock in the morning by now, so he’s probably asleep. He does have that nice new couch… I wonder if he’d be okay with me sleeping there until he got up to let me into my apartment? I’m sure he would…

I decide at this point, it’s my best bet, so I slip off my shoes and carefully make my way back to the elevator. My head is swimming slightly and I have to input the code to Christian’s penthouse three times before I get it right, but eventually I do and when the elevator begins to move, I hold myself up against the railing, concentrating on my breathing as I make my way up to the 31st floor.

When the doors open, I notice that the apartment is dark, but to my surprise, it isn’t quiet. The soft, lyrical tones of the piano drift through the foyer and I follow the sound into the living room where I find Christian sitting at the piano, his silhouette illuminated only by the lights of the city shining in through the window behind him. I can vaguely recognize the melody of whatever he is playing but it’s hard to concentrate on the music once I realize that he’s sitting before me in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms, the light from the window highlighting the contours of the well-defined muscles in his chest and arms.

He looks…

Oh, he looks…

I stand there, frozen, marveling at him. The tendons become more pronounced in his forearms with each stroke of his long fingers over the keys and it brings back memories, all too clear in this moment, of those same fingers working their magic on me. Heat flushes over me and as I stand there, once again feeling myself being wholly consumed by my desire for this beautiful man, my grip on my shoes relaxes and they tumble noisily onto the floor.

Christian jumps slightly at the unexpected sound and turns to look at me.

“Ana?” He asks, clearly surprised to see me here. I swallow, hoping to force down the licentious feelings, which are unfortunately currently being fueled by alcohol and are much, much more poignant than usual.

“Hi. I’m um… I’m locked out of my apartment.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I left my purse at the club. My phone and my keys were in it.”

“I could have Taylor go down and look for it, if you want,” He offers.

“No, it’s late. I don’t want you to wake him. I’m sure Kate will grab it. I just thought that maybe you’d have a key.”

“I do. I’ll… get it for you.”

“Thank you,” I tell him. He nods as he gets up from the piano and I inhale sharply when he turns towards me and I get the full view of his chest, his abs, the intriguing line between his hip bones that disappears into his pants…

The way his muscles move beneath his skin is so graceful, it’s nearly hypnotic. I feel like I physically can’t take my eyes off of him as I follow him through the living room and kitchen to the utility room, and when he opens the small door to the metal box on the wall, which is full of ten or so different keys, I feel the last of my restraint fade away.

I want him and I want him now.

“Here,” He says, holding the key out for me. I glance down at it for a second and then push past his outstretched hand and press myself against him. My fingers reach into his hair and I pull him down to me so that my lips can reach his.

“Ana…” He says, pulling away from me hesitantly and I look up at him, shocked, as he continues.”You’re drunk. I can’t…”

“I’m fine, Christian. Really.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Christian, I promise you. I want this. I’ve wanted this all day, since you kissed me in my apartment. This has nothing to do with the alcohol. I want you.”

I can see the conflict behind his eyes so I lean forward to kiss him again and this time, he doesn’t back away. He’s still reluctant though so I twist my fingers into his hair again, pulling gently as I brush my tongue against his bottom lip. He groans as his restraint begins to fade away and I hear the high clinking sound of the key he was holding hitting the stone tile floor as his arms wrap around me.

He pushes me backwards into the wall before deepening our kiss. As he’s holding me in his arms, pinning me to the wall with his body so that I can feel the heat radiating off his skin, it feels as though time stops and we’re just hands and tongues and burning, blistering need. There is a sense of urgency in his kiss and I eagerly return his fervor. The desperate need for the release of two years of withdrawal consumes both of us as we pour our yearning into each other. His teeth sink briefly into my bottom lip, tugging it gently for a moment, before he dives back into our kiss again.

I devour him greedily. My breathing is harsh and ragged as I arch my back so that as much of my body is pushed into him as possible. Through the thin fabric of my dress, my breasts press against his naked chest and he growls a deep, needy sound that ignites the lust in me like a fuse held to an open flame. I can feel his fingers gripping hungrily into my dress and in that moment, I want nothing more than for him to rip through the fragile chiffon and take me, right here, right now… on the floor.

“Take me to bed, Christian.” I plead when I’m finally able to pull my lips away from his. He looks down at me for a moment, the desire burning brightly in his eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“Yes, yes I’m sure,” I reassure him. “I want you, I need you. Please.”

“I don’t have any condoms…”

“That’s okay, I’m on the pill.”

He looks at me with a pained expression for a moment but eventually, the intensity of the pull between us that has been so present over the past week finally wins out and, moving so fast that he leaves me slightly disoriented, he reaches down and scoops me in his arms. We move quickly through the apartment and he holds me against him so that I can feel his heart racing in his chest. I reach out to tilt his head back to mine so that I can continue to kiss him as he takes me back to a part of his apartment I’ve never been before. I can hear him fumble blindly with the handle on his bedroom door and then he steps into the room and lays me down on his bed.

“You’re sure?” He asks again and I nod and then climb up onto my knees so that I can reach up to kiss him again. He takes my face in his hands, holding me to him while he kisses me greedily, and then his hands travel to the zipper on the back of my dress and he eases it down. A shiver runs over me as he lightly drags his finger up my now naked back and then brushes his hands over the fabric on my shoulders, pulling my dress down to my waist. His lips break apart from mine then, and he begins to leave a trail of kisses down the line of my throat to my collar bones. My breasts shift as his fingers move deftly to the clasp on my bra, unhooking it, and then he drags it off of me.

Once my breasts are exposed, he leans back to stare at me for a moment, his thumb brushing lightly over my nipple.

“Oh, baby,” He whispers with veneration, and then he kisses me again, pushing me backwards onto the bed, his naked chest pressed firmly against mine. He cradles my face again with his left hand as he shifts his body slightly so that he can pull the dress the rest of the way off of me with the right, and once he does, his free hand moves up my side and begins to massage my breast. I moan, and tilt my hips up towards him, my need for him spiraling out of control.

He begins to roll my nipple between his finger and his thumb and once it’s elongated and over sensitized, he increases the pressure between his fingers and pulls ever so slightly. I gasp and his teeth capture my bottom lip once more.

“Christian!” I cry out, and he groans a low appreciative sound.

“Tell me what you want, Anastasia,” He says. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you. Please, Christian,” I reply, my words a broken plea.

“Oh, Ana,” He moans, and he kisses me once more before pulling away to stand next to the bed. My impatient gaze follows him as he hooks his fingers beneath the band of his pajama bottoms and he slowly inches them down until he’s standing before me, naked and absolutely glorious. I lean forward, wanting to taste him, to feel his erection in my mouth, but he grasps my shoulders and pushes me back down on the bed, and climbs back over the top of me again.

“No, Ana,” He whispers. “I don’t want your mouth right now. I want to be inside of you, and I can’t wait any longer.”

My breath hisses between my teeth as I feel him hastily pull my panties off of me and then his erection brushes against my entrance. I can see the libidinous hunger in his eyes, but… again, there is hesitation too.

“Ask me again,” He says, imploring me rather than commanding.

“Fuck me, Christian. I want you to make me come.”

“And you promise me that you’re not too drunk?”

“No. No, I want this,” I assure him and he swallows once, his eyes baring into mine as though he’s looking for any sign of doubt. “Please.” I whisper again.

He growls, leaning down and kissing me once more. His lips are almost painfully urgent against mine as he reaches down, positions his erection at my entrance and in one, quick movement thrusts inside of me.

I cry out, my body tightening and clenching around him as I attempt to adjust to him inside of me. It’s painful, more so than I would have imagined, but also deeply, viscerally satisfying. I clench my jaw together, waiting for the pain to subside and he freezes, looking down at me with concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say in a tight voice. “Nothing, I’m fine. Just give me a second. I forgot how big you are.”

“Oh baby, that’s because I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking hard,” He whispers, flexing his hips upward, though not enough to cause me any pain. I reach up and claim his lips once more, my tongue entangled with his. Our breathing comes in harsh, broken staccatos and moans as he starts moving slowly in and out of me, and after a minute or so, I begin to adjust to his size and each moment of him inside of me starts to give me a jolt of resounding pleasure rather than acute pangs of pain. I tilt my pelvis up to him, encouraging him to really move, but he doesn’t. Instead, when I begin to squirm beneath him, he inhales sharply and reaches down to hold my hips still.

“Don’t move,” He tells me and I moan defiantly.

“I’m okay now,” I tell him but he doesn’t move his hands.

“Please, Ana. Don’t move,” He says, and I look up at him, confused.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s been… awhile,” He says through gritted teeth, “You’re going to make me come.”

I whimper, and he lets out a low, frustrated sound before pulling out of me and inching his way down my body. I look down at him in protest, but my complaint is cut off by the gasp he elicits when his mouth makes contact with my clitoris.

“Oh, god!” I breathe, collapsing back onto the bed and he moans into me. I feel his tongue swirl around me, his lips tease me, his teeth graze gently against me, and my legs begin to shake as I’m overwhelmed by the sensation. With agonizing slowness, he eases a finger into me, and then another, while he continues to worship me with his tongue.

“Anastasia, you taste so good,” He whispers in awe as he moves his fingers in and out of me, bringing me to close the the edge and holding me there, hanging somewhere between coherence and complete oblivion.

“Oh, Christian. You’re going to make me come,” I tell him, feeling heat spread through my body like a liquid flame flowing through my veins.

“Come on, baby. Give it to me,” He says, his fingers moving inside of me harder and faster than before. He traces firm, deliberate circles over my clitoris with his thumb and the quivering deep inside of me intensifies until I erupt, screaming his name.

“So beautiful,” I hear him whisper and then his mouth is on me again, his tongue dipping inside of me while I ride out my orgasm. When the crushing waves of pleasure finally come to an end, he leaves one last, tender kiss on me before slowly moving upward, his tongue easing its way up my body, over my stomach towards my breasts. He takes his time, exploring every inch of my skin, tasting me, relishing me. Dragging on the agony.

“Christian, I want you inside of me,” I plead and I feel him smile against my heated skin.

“All good things, Anastasia,” He says, nipping gently at my breast. He rolls his tongue around my nipple, and I writhe beneath him, relishing in what he’s doing to me but needing so much more. Eventually, he moves up to take my lips with his once more and I feel him reach down to position himself against me. He thrusts inside of me again and although I still feel a slight twinge of pain, it’s easier to accommodate him after my orgasm. He doesn’t stop this time to wait for me to adjust to him and I begin keening loudly as I start to lose myself in the harsh, punishing rhythm he sets.

“You feel so fucking good, Anastasia,” Christian says, grabbing my hips as he thrusts on and on, quickly bringing me right back to the brink. We’re lost in one another, so absorbed in the pleasure that I cannot fathom anything in the world outside of him. We’re perfect together, made for each other, and in this moment, I know there is no turning back, I’m not going to be able to let him go again. I’m in this with him, for better or for worse. The ease we have with one another, even after all of this time, proves to me that I am as much his now as I was before and surprisingly, that realization brings me solace rather than trepidation. He loves me and I love him and nothing else matters. We can deal with anything as long as we’re together. As long as we have this.

I gasp as Christian suddenly sits up and flips me onto my side. He kneels over my left leg and pulls my right leg up and around his waist and when he enters me again, it feels even deeper and he’s pushing right against that place inside of me that invigorates my entire body. His thrusts are so ruthless that I can feel myself being pushed further up the bed every time he slams into me, until eventually I’m pressed up against his headboard. I place my hands on the dark wood to push myself back down into him and meet him thrust for thrust. The room is filled with the blended sound of my cries and his groans, and soon I begin to feel heat blossoming inside of me again.

“Fuck. I’m getting close, baby,” Christian says, his voice raw and carnal.

“Me too,” I tell him.

“Then come for me,” He demands. “Come for me, Ana.”

His fingers fist into my hair, tiling my head upwards as he leans over my leg so that he can claim my lips again and the feel of his tongue moving perfectly in sync with mine in combination with his movements deep inside of me is enough to tip me over the edge and I let go.

“Yesssss!” He hisses as I clench around him with each pulsing wave of my orgasm, and the tension in his face is relieved instantly as he too finds release.

Once it’s over, he collapses onto the bed next to me, his body flushed against my back as we try and regain control of our breathing and I revel in the feel of his arms wound tightly around me. When our heart rates slow and our breathing no longer comes in harsh pants, he leans up and reaches over to turn my face back to him so he can kiss me again, though this time, there is no longer any sense of urgency. His kiss is soft, gentle and loving.

His hand cups the side of my face, holding me there while his tongue explores my mouth. I moan and lean into him, deepening the kiss, while the hand that is pinned beneath my arm closes around my breast. In this moment, nothing exists in my world but taste and touch and for the next several minutes, I’m content to do nothing more than lie here, kissing him, loving him, until I feel his erection begin to grow against my behind once more.

“Again?” He asks, pausing our kiss only long enough to speak.

“Yes,” I whisper in response and I feel him smile against my lips.

He reaches down and eases himself inside of me from behind, though this time, when he starts to move, his thrusts aren’t rough and fueled by his need for release. Instead, he’s slow and deliberate.

“Ah…” I gasp as I feel each and every tantalizing inch of him pushing deep inside of me. He moves his lips down to my shoulder while his hand continues to gently massage my breast in time with each purposeful thrust. I feel his tongue begin to move up my neck until he reaches my earlobe, which he tugs gently with his teeth, and I feel a small pang of disappointment that I’m facing away from him. I’d love to be able to trace my tongue along the defined lines of his hips or his chest. The way he moves inside of me, presses his lips into mine, stares deeply into my eyes… it’s so intimate. It feels as though he’s making love to me like it’s our very first time, or possibly, our last.

“Oh, Ana,” He whispers, almost reverentially, “I’ve missed this so much.”

“Me too. Oh god, Christian, you’re so good…”

He groans and his hand moves down from my hip to massage my clitoris. I feel the promising quiver begin to rise again with each pass of his fingers over me, with each long, exquisite stroke of his erection inside of me, and I know I’m not going to last much longer.

“Come with me, Christian,” I beg him.

“Already?” He asks, and when I nod, he exhales sharply and picks up his rhythm, rolling me a little more onto my stomach and pressing me into the mattress as he does. It’s so intense this way and I scream his name into his sheets as he dives into me again and again. I know that he has staff somewhere in this apartment and I don’t want them to hear me, so I turn so that I’m face down in the pillow, but once I do, Christian grips my arm and rolls me onto my back. The fire blazing behind his eyes has returned again as he stares down at me.

“Look at me, Ana,” He growls, “I want to see you when I make you come.”

I stare back at him, doing my best to stop the screams that seem determined to burst out of me in response to his grueling pace. It’s winding me tighter and tighter until I can’t hold off any longer and I explode. My orgasm hits me with astounding force, rocketing through me like I’ve been electrocuted and my body shudders beneath him.

“Fuck,” He hisses. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me into him as, once again, he comes violently inside of me.

Every nerve in my body has been heightened and the sensation of his fingers against my skin is almost too intense now. My head is spinning as I come down and the alcohol begins weighing on me heavily as I begin to realize how tired I am.

Finally, Christian rolls over onto the bed next to me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him again. I shift slightly, pressing as much of my body into him as possible and I feel my eyelids begin to droop. If I was tired when I left the club, I don’t know how to describe the exhaustion I feel now.

“That was…” He begins but his words are cut off my his labored breathing.

“Incredible,” I finish for him.

“More than that,” He says. “It was everything.”

“Mmm,” I moan appreciatively as I snuggle into him. He leans down and kisses my neck again before gently nuzzling my hair.

“You’re okay, right?” He asks. “You’re not going to regret this in the morning?”

“No,” I say, though my voice is so quiet and filled with my need for sleep, part of me wonders if he even heard my response.

“If you do… just, tell me. Please don’t leave me, Ana,” He says, and the plea in his voice is enough to bring me back from the edge of sleep.

I turn my head back to look at him and I can see the longing in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Christian.” I promise him and even though he leans down to kiss me again, there is no look of relief on his face.

“Do you want to go back to your own apartment? I can go get the key for you,” He says, and I bite down on my lip as I consider this.

The lines have been blurred now, I know that and I honestly don’t know anymore whether it is or isn’t a good idea for me to spend the night with him, but in this moment, I just feel… absolutely content and I don’t want to leave. So I don’t.

“No,” I tell him. “No, I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I want to sleep in your arms tonight. I want you to hold me, Christian.”

“I want that too,” He whispers, and a smile creeps across his lips. “Sleep, baby.”

I feel his lips press softly into my hair before he settles down to lie next to me. He tightens his arms around me as I begin to drift, and just before I’m completely lost to the word I hear his low whisper in the darkness.

“I love you, Anastasia,” He says, and then I slowly fade away into a deep, restful sleep.

Next Chapter

Chapter 12

Image result for pikes market

I wake up the next morning a little later than I mean to, so I have to hurry through my shower and settle on a banana for breakfast in order to make it up to Christian’s apartment on time. I’m a little more nervous and… excited than I normally am as I make my way up to the thirty first floor, and when the elevator doors open and I see Taylor there waiting for me, I’m almost a little embarrassed by the stupid grin that I can’t keep off my face.

“Good Morning, Miss Steele,” He says warmly.

“Morning, Taylor,” I reply, and then follow him into the apartment. I find Christian pacing in front the scenic windows of his living room, talking to someone on his iPhone. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, looking nothing like the straight laced CEO I’ve come to expect over the last week, and it warms my heart. He finally looks like the Christian I remember again.

“No, I want the contracts signed by Monday,” He says into the phone. “Our operations meeting is Tuesday morning and I plan to announce the deal then, but I won’t do it without a signed contract. Make it happen. Good, then I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend, Ros.”

He hangs up the phone and turns to look at me.

“Don’t you ever take a day off?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

“It was just a few last minute things, but everything else can wait for this evening. You have my full attention, Anastasia,” He assures me, and he makes a show out of putting his phone on silent to prove his point. I smile at the gesture but still shake my head with exasperation. Taking a few hours break from work in the middle of a Saturday is not the same thing as taking a day off.

He slips his phone into his pocket and then leads me across the apartment to the elevator so we can leave, Taylor following in our wake.

“You’re planning on driving?” I ask, when Christian reaches out to press the elevator button for the garage rather than the lobby. “You know it’s like four blocks away, right?”

“I thought you planned on buying things?” He replies.

“Yeah, but not enough that I would need a car to bring it all back.”

He shrugs as the doors open. We both follow Taylor out of the elevator and towards the black SUV that’s idling just a few feet away, and the second we step out onto the asphalt of the garage, the passenger’s side door to the SUV opens and I Luke gets out. He hurries around to our side so that he can open the back door for us, but before he does, Christian stops to say something to Taylor.

“Hey, Luke,” I say, elated by his surprise appearance and he smiles at me.

“Hey,” He replies. “How was Mia?”

“Fine,” I say dismissively. “Melodramatic, but fine.”

“Good. I was worried when I saw them putting people in the back of the police cruisers. It’s good that they let you take her home,” He says. “You know, we didn’t finish the movie last night. I think I still have fifteen minutes left of suffering to do.”

I smirk at him. “I think you secretly love that movie and are just upset that you didn’t get to finish it.” I reply and he laughs.

“No way. I’m just all out of sorts now. I’ve seen it 13 and ¾ times. It’s got me off balance.”

“Well, one night this week you should come over and we can make it an even fifteen times. What do you think?”

He rolls his eyes, “I think, you bring the movie, I’ll bring the booze.”

I laugh as he steps aside to pull open the door for me but Christian stops me from getting in.

“Maybe we should walk,” He suggests. “You’re right, it’s not that far and it’s a beautiful day. Sawyer and Ryan can take the SUV and we’ll meet them down there. I’m sure Taylor wouldn’t mind the exercise.”

“No, sir,” Taylor says.

“Ana,” Christian says, motioning me to walk forward rather than past Luke to the backseat of the car. I nod and then smile and wave goodbye to Luke before following Taylor through the entrance of the garage, then around 4th avenue and down Stewart towards Pike Place.

It’s a busy Saturday down in the Marketplace and the crowd makes it difficult to maneuver around to all the different shops. We stop by Beecher’s to watch the cheese being made through the window and then the Fish Co. where they’re tossing fish to one another over the counter and chasing tourists around with gutted octopuses. We stock up on fresh produce at Frank’s and spices down at The Souk. Christian talks me into sampling the pâté de foie gras at DeLaurenti and then laughs at me when I immediately gag and spit it back out into my napkin.

The entire morning is wonderful. We fall so easily back into this easy comfort we have with one another that for just this brief period of time, it almost feels as if nothing has happened and it’s just us again. I don’t even know the last time I had such a good time and for the first time since I’ve been in Seattle, I feel real hope. Not just about Christian, but about both of us. Watching him so carefree, talking and laughing with me, gives me a small glimpse of the future we could have together, and now I’m more sure than ever, maybe even more sure than I was two years ago when I hadn’t had to live without him yet, that this future is what I want more than anything else in the world.

“Do you want to get some lunch?” He asks, as we hand Taylor our purchases so he can take them back to wherever Luke is with the car.

“Sure,” I tell him, and Christian turns to Taylor.

“We’ll be at Le Pichet,” He says and Taylor nods, but I stop him before he can turn to leave.

“No! We’re at Pike’s Market. We have to go an get a hot dog at Taxi’s.”

“A hot dog?” Christian asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Yes, a hot dog. It’s a Seattle institution. I thought you were raised here, how do you not know this?” I ask him, and because he continues to look skeptically at me, and I’m not allowed to physically grab onto him and drag him up the marketplace behind me, I give him a challenging look and then turn in the direction of the restaurant.

“I guess we’ll be at… Taxi’s,” I hear Christian say behind me, and then a second later he’s walking next to me, looking down at me dubiously every few seconds.

A huge smile creeps across my face as we approach and I smell the familiar, homey scent that emanates from the grill at Taxi Dogs. It reminds me of spending long Saturday afternoons in this marketplace with my Dad. The man behind the counter greets us warmly and asks for our order.

“We’ll have two of the spicy polish dogs with cream cheese and grilled onions, easy on the franks,” I tell him and Christian grimaces.

“Cream cheese and wh… what did you just order?”

“Will you just trust me?” I reply, and he takes a deep breath and pays the man behind the counter. When we get our food, he stares at it suspiciously for a minute before taking a bite.

“Well?” I ask, through a mouthful of my own hot dog.

He chews slowly for a minute and then swallows with what looks like a great deal of effort. “Is revenge for the foie gras?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous, it’s so good! This is my dad’s favorite thing in the world. Every time I’ve been to Seattle, we’ve come here. It’s kind of a tradition.”

“Well, when your Dad comes home, we’ll have to take him somewhere where the food isn’t served on plastic baskets and checkered paper.”

“He won’t be interested,” I laugh and Christian sighs and takes another bite. I suspect he likes it more than he’s willing to let on because he finishes it without further complaint.

“Now what, Anastasia?” Christian asks as we make our way back out into the main marketplace. “Any other traditions we need to check off the list. Maybe you want to count the pigs?” He says, teasingly and I narrow my eyes at him.

“We’re not tourists,” I say emphatically. “Besides, I’ve never gotten higher than twelve.”

“That’s an important number in this city,” He says and I smile.

“Mr. Grey?” A voice says behind us and we turn into a bright flash of light. When my eyes readjust, I see a guy in a black hoodie, looking down at the screen on a camera.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asks me, and my eyes widen in panic as I realize what’s happening.

“Uh…” I stutter.

“Give me the camera,” Christian says, stepping in front of me, but the guy just looks at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I don’t think so,” He replies.

“The memory card then. I’ll buy it from you, just name your price,” Christian says, and this time, the photographer raises an eyebrow, clearly interested.

“Six thousand,” He says, and Christian lets out a short, harsh laugh.

“I’m not a Kardashian, there’s no way that photo is worth that much,” He argues.

“I don’t know, US Weekly has been touting you out as the World’s Most Eligible Bachelor. We’ll have to see what they’re willing to offer for the first picture of you and your girlfriend, whose name is…?” The photographer tries to peer around Christian to look at me again, but Christian shifts with him so that he can continue to shield me from view.

“I’ll give you a grand,” Christian offers, but the photographer shakes his head.

“The price is six thousand or I let the magazines start bidding.”

“Fine,” Christian says. He pulls out his phone to make the transaction while I hover uneasily in his shadow. I knew this would be an issue at a public event like the charity gala last night, but out in a public market? I didn’t realize this was a thing that happened here… although I guess I have to admit that I did know he’d been in a few tabloids from my Google Alert. Is this what it’s like for him all the time?

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Grey,” The photographer says as he hands Christian the memory card to his camera. “Just so you know, there’s three more of us around the corner waiting for you and the girl. Someone called in a tip, said you were down here on a date.”

“More photographers?” I whisper, panicked. “Christian, I don’t want…”

“No, I know. I’ll take care of it,” He says, and he nods for me to head down the ramp that leads to the shops below the market so that we’re out of sight of the street as he dials a number on his phone. “Taylor, there are photographers down here trying to get a picture of me with Anastasia. I need you to bring another car down for me to take back to Escala so that Ana can get out of here without being seen. Bring the Veyron, it’ll draw more attention.”

We hover in the breezeway, facing away the ramp that leads to the street above, until Taylor calls us fifteen minutes later to let us know that he’s outside.

“Wait here for Taylor to come get you. He’ll take you around back to the SUV and Ryan can drive you back to Escala,” He says.

“Okay, thank you,” I nod, and he gets up to leave the restaurant. A few minutes later, Taylor appears and he leads me back out into the marketplace. I can see the mob of people behind the flashy sports car screeching up Virginia St, but Taylor leads me in the opposite direction and down a back staircase towards Western Ave where the black SUV is waiting just a few feet from the door we come through. I climb into the back seat just before Taylor and the moment the door is closed, we start moving.

“Paparazzi, huh?” Luke asks, turning around from the front passenger’s seat and flashing a wide grin at me. “One week in Seattle and you’re already a huge celebrity.”

“Shut up, Luke,” I say, glaring at him. “That guy called me Christian’s girlfriend. People can’t think we’re dating. He’s the CEO and I’m an intern. It’ll bring up all kinds of ethical issues for him and I don’t come off looking great either.”

“Was it a date?” Luke asks and I shake my head.

“No, we’re just… we’re just hanging out together,” I tell him, and I feel a little guilty as part of me thinks that this is a lie…

“Then what are you worried about?”

“Perception.”

“No one saw you, Ana,” He promises me, and I nod as we pull into the parking garage at Escala. The guy in the front seat, who I assume is the Ryan guy Christian has mentioned, stops before driving up the ramp to Christian’s parking spaces to let us out and when I climb out of the car, Taylor escorts me to the elevator. When we’re inside, he presses the button for the penthouse and before he enters the code I ask him to stop at my floor too.

“You’re not coming up to Mr. Grey’s apartment?” He asks, looking back at me with a furrowed brow.

“No, I uh… I have plans for later so I think I’m going to relax for awhile at home,” I tell him, and, even though he seems hesitant, he nods and then pushes the button for my floor. When we arrive at the 14th floor, Taylor hands me the bags of things I purchased down at the market and I give him a grateful smile as I step off the elevator.

“Thanks, Taylor,” I tell him. “For getting me out, I mean.”

“My pleasure, Miss Steele,” He says, and then the elevator doors close and he disappears from view.

When I’m back in my apartment, I take a second to relax on the couch and decompress before putting the fruits and vegetables away. The containers of Chinese food from last night are still sitting on the table, so I throw them away and clean up the dishes both Luke and I left behind. When the kitchen is cleaned and I’ve started a load of laundry, I head back into the living room to pick out a book to take out on the balcony with me, but before I make it back to the hallway that leads to my room, there is a knock on the door.

I cross the room to open it and find Christian standing there holding what I think is a DVD in his hand.

“I’m sorry about the photographer… It ruined our afternoon and… I’m sorry,” He says, but I shake my head.

“No, it didn’t ruin anything. That’s not your fault, Christian,” I tell him, stepping aside to let him in. He walks forward through the entryway and gives an examining glance over the apartment.

“How’s the apartment?” He asks. “Do you have everything you need?”

“It’s wonderful, amazing even. Kate was a little jealous when she dropped me off,” I say and he laughs.

“Well then, mission accomplished.”

I turn around to head into the living room, unsure if he’s here to talk or if he just wanted to apologize, but as he follows me further into the apartment, he stops at my dining room table and frowns.

“Your flowers are wilted,” He says, and I sigh.

“Well, they’ve been there for a little over a week. I’ve been meaning to get rid of them but they’re so beautiful I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it. Thank-you by the way, that was a very thoughtful welcome home gift.”

“I’ll have new ones sent over.”

“You don’t have too…”

“I want to, Anastasia,” He says, and then he turns to hold the DVD out for me. “This came in the mail today. After they moved everything in here, Sawyer looked through the movies I picked out and suggested I order it for you. He said it was one of your favorites.”

I look down at the case and smile. “Roman Holiday. It’s a good one.”

“Then I’m glad you have it,” He says. “Taylor told me you that you were getting ready to go out tonight… Should I go?”

“I have a couple hours before I have to get ready. I was going to read a book but if you’re not doing anything else, we could watch this instead,” I suggest, holding the movie up for him.

“I’d like that,” He says, and I smile before turning around to put the movie in the DVD player. We both sit on the couch, and I cuddle up with one of the oversized pillows a few inches away from him as the title credits flash across the screen. I can feel him glancing over at me every few minutes and it’s not long before I begin to feel the pull between us. I’m keenly aware of his every movement next to me and I have to stop myself several times from reaching over to touch him, something I seem to want to do just out of habit. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his fingers twitch every so often, as if he’s struggling to keep the boundaries just as much as I am.

I repeat the no touching mantra over and over again in my head as I try and focus on the movie, but the words don’t give me the same kind of reassurance anymore. What was the point of the rule again? Something about keeping our relationship casual and friendly or setting expectations…? Dr. Flynn had said something about maintaining the boundaries until Christian made the right amount of progress for me to feel comfortable increasing the intimacy in our relationship. I know that he probably didn’t mean for me to evaluate that this soon, but with Christian next to me and every part of me yearning to touch him, maybe I should.

He has respected my boundaries, even though I know he doesn’t want to, and he’s been communicating with his family and going to therapy. He even rescheduled an important meeting so that he wouldn’t miss an appointment with Flynn. And… last night he admitted that he had the urge to call Elena but he didn’t, and not just because I stayed with him to talk. He made that decision while Mia was still there. He went down to the gym instead. That’s progress right?

Yes, it is. And right now, it’s enough for me.

I take a deep breath, reach over, and slowly entwine my fingers with his. He immediately looks over at me with a shocked expression, and I give him a small, reassuring smile. The feel of my hand in his is cathartic and, like a recovering alcoholic taking their first sip of wine after two years of sobriety, I know that just this small taste of his skin against mine is not enough. I swallow hard and then lift his hand, drape his arm over my shoulder, and then cuddle into his side. He shifts automatically so that I fit better against him, and the moment I’m settled in, I feel at ease. There is no burgeoning sense of tension or awkward moment of adjustment. Here in his arms, there is only an overwhelming sense of home.

He wraps his other arm around me too, holding me tightly into him for a while, and then he rests his head against mine. As we continue our way through the movie, every so often I feel his lips press lightly into my hair and each small, sweet kiss sends a tingling sense of pleasure over my scalp that radiates down my body. The feel of him next to me is so comforting that I find myself disappointed when the movie ends. I wish we would have picked something longer like Spartacus or Camelot or the entire Lord of the Rings series from start to finish. Extended editions.

“It’s nearly 6:30, Anastasia,” He says as the credits roll up the screen. “I’d sit here with you forever, but I don’t want to keep you from your friends if that’s where you want to be.”

“Okay,” I say with disappointment, and I force myself to get off the couch. Once we’re at the door, he turns around to face me and I immediately wrap my arms around him again, almost like a child who doesn’t want their parent to leave. He hugs me back for a moment, and then he reaches over and pulls my chin up so that I’m looking at him. We hold each other’s gaze for a split second and then he leans down and, ever so slowly, he presses his lips into mine.

He’s hesitant at first, probably testing me to see if I’m going to pull away from him or not, but when I don’t, his leans into me further and his kiss becomes more assertive. He groans, pulling me into him, holding me tightly as he coaxes my lips apart with his and when his tongue slips into my mouth, I melt into him and my hands reach up into his hair, holding him in place while our lips move together in perfect synchronization. I’m pleased to discover that I don’t have to remember how to kiss him, it’s instinctual. It’s like no time at all has passed between our last kiss and now and as that thought crosses my mind I wonder if that would be something exclusive only to kissing…

I’m breathless when he pulls away from me and that state doesn’t improve as I stare into the fire ignited behind his steely gray eyes.

“Should I stay?” He asks, his voice husky with the hidden promise in his words, but somehow, and I don’t really know how… I’m able to shake my head.

“I need to get ready to meet Kate and Ros,” I tell him. He frowns but nods his head.

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll come over in the morning.”

“Good. Have a goodnight, Anastasia.”

“You too,” I tell him, and he leans over, kisses me once more to test my resolve, and then disappears into the hallway. I close the door behind him, leaning against it and feeling breathless. My lips are still tingling and feel slightly swollen from his kiss and the physical reminder of the memory makes me shiver.

I know now that I’m on a train hurtling towards a cliff and I’m not going to be able to stop it. His kiss has elicited a need within me that I have been able to suppress for two years, but has now risen to a level beyond my control. I want him, not just physically, but as mine, the way it used to be and I don’t think I can wait any longer. Even now, it’s taking every ounce of my limited control to stop myself from chasing after him and asking him to take me upstairs. I suppose this was the real reason for the rules. Even Dr. Flynn knew that any seemingly innocent touch was just a slippery slope to us ending up naked together. Again, I feel a shiver of pleasure crawl tantalizingly over my skin at the thought and it tells me just how far gone I am. I take a deep breath and lean my head back against the door.

What are you doing, Anastasia?

Next Chapter

Chapter 11

Image result for police lights

“What do you mean you’re in trouble, what’s going on?” I ask, reaching for the remote to turn the movie off so that I can hear her better.

“I’m at a party and the cops just pulled up outside. There’s alcohol and some… drugs in the house.”

“What do you mean drugs? Mia, what’re you doing?”

“Ana!” She says, desperate this time as I hear her begin to cry. “I don’t have time to explain right now, but if they catch me, they’ll arrest me and my dad will kill me. Please, please come get me!”

“Mia, you’re dad’s a lawyer. You should really call him…”

“No! My parents can’t find out about this, Christian can’t find out about this… Please, you have to come and get me!”

I war with myself briefly, knowing I should probably call Carrick, but the panic in Mia’s voice sways me. “Where are you?” I ask her.

“I’ll text you the address. Please hurry,” She begs.

“I’m on my way,” I tell her. “Stay where you are and if the police find you in the house, do NOT resist them.” I hang up the phone and am relieved when I turn around and see that Luke is already in motion.

“Where are we going?” He asks.

“I don’t know, but it’s Christian’s sister and she’s in trouble. She’s at some party that got busted by the cops. She’s going to text me the address of where she’s at, can you take me to pick her up?”

“Of course I can, let’s go,” Luke says and he picks up his jacket and follows me out the door. When we get down to the garage and into Luke’s car, he pulls out onto the road and drives towards the freeway, taking out his cellphone as he goes.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“If it’s Mia, I have to call Mr. Grey.”

“Don’t,” I beg him. “She said she didn’t want him to know and if anybody is going to go over there, it really should be her Dad.”

“Ana, Mr. Grey is a powerful man. He can help her, probably more than a lawyer could at this point.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Luke. Can we please just check it out for ourselves first? I want to know how bad it is so I know who would be better to call.”

He looks at me, unsure for a moment, but after a second of hesitation, he puts his phone back into his pocket and signals to merge onto the I-5.

The address that Mia sends to me is for a house a few blocks off the UW campus on 36th Ave. The street is blocked off by at least three different police cars throwing red and blue light over the cars parked alongside the street, so Luke has to park his car at the end of the road.

“I’ll be back,” I tell him, ignoring his protest as I jump out and hurry down the sidewalk to the house where I find several kids, most of whom look to be at as old as I am, lined up on the curb in handcuffs. When I look up to the house, I can see Mia sitting on the front step of the porch and so I maneuver my way around the car in the driveway to approach the officers standing closest to her.

“Excuse me, officer?” I say, and he turns to look at me. “My name is Anastasia Steele and I’m, um… I’m responsible for the girl over there, Mia, for the weekend. I’m here to pick her up, is there a problem?”

“You’re responsible for her?” The officer asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, her parents are… out of town and she’s staying with me.” I tell him and the way he smirks at me in response tells me he knows that I’m lying and I feel my heart begin to beat furiously in my chest. Fuck

“I’m sorry, Miss Steele is it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Miss Steele, we’ve already been in contact with the party responsible for Miss Grey and he’s on the way to pick her up.”

“Oh, I uh-,” I stammer, but there’s nowhere for that sentence to go and so I stop under his hard glare. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m a family friend and she called me and asked for help.” I admit. “Would it be okay if I waited with her for Mr. Grey to pick her up?”

He looks at me suspiciously for a minute and then nods. I give him a grateful smile as I make my way up the stairs and sit on the step next to Mia.

“Did they call my Dad?” She asks.

“Yeah, he’s on his way,” I tell her and she hangs her head, looking nearly on the edge of tears. “Mia, that’s not a bad thing. This is what your dad does. You’re sixteen. They can arrest you for this and what do you think a criminal record is going to do for your chances of getting into Juilliard?”

“Why does it matter? I’m not going anyway.” She says bitterly and I grind my teeth together.

“So you’re just going to throw away any chance you could have of going? Mia, you’re not going to college for two more years, a lot can happen between now and then. Don’t sabotage yourself.”

“My dad doesn’t change his mind, Ana. You saw what happened with Christian and look how that turned out for everyone.”

“Mia…” I begin but stop when a set of headlights floods the front porch with blinding light. We both turn to look at the car at the end of the driveway and the man that gets out. I reach over to squeeze Mia’s knee encouragingly, but when the man steps into the beam of light streaming up at us, I see that it isn’t Carrick, it’s Christian, and his livid expression is a strange contrast to his perfectly tailored tuxedo. He must have come straight here from the charity event…

“Oh no,” Mia groans, and I look at her, surprised for a moment. We both know how much Christian adores Mia and the lengths that he would go to in order to protect her. Sure, he looks angry but I would think she’d be pleased to see that it was him who showed up since she’s so worried about how Carrick is going to react. Maybe Luke’s right and Christian has enough influence now to sort this out for her and if he takes her home, her dad will have time to cool off before he talks to her.

Christian comes up the walk and reaches his hand out for the police officer hovering near us. “Thank you, Sergeant,” He says. “I appreciate your leniency in this situation.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Grey. I’m sure she’s a good kid. It’s her first offense so hopefully a warning tonight will be enough to keep her out of trouble in the future,” The officer says, and Christian nods before turning a hard glare on his little sister.

“Get in the car, Mia,” He says harshly, and as she complies immediately, standing quickly and hurrying away from the porch towards the car in the driveway. Christian turns to me and some of the anger dwindles as he raises an eyebrow at me in confusion.

“Ana? What are you doing here?” He asks.

“Mia called me. She asked me to come and pick her up.”

“How did you get here?”

“Luke. He’s waiting for me at the end of the street.”

“So… you two made up then?”

“Yeah, he came over tonight to apologize and we talked it out. We were watching a movie when Mia called.”

“I see…” He says and I can tell by the set of his mouth that he’s not pleased with this new development, although I’m not sure why. He knows Luke and I are friends.

“Well, we’re headed back to Escala, I can give you a ride. I’ll let Sawyer know that his services are no longer required this evening.”

“Okay,” I agree, and I get up from the slightly damp wooden step and follow Christian to his car. He holds open the door for me and I slide into the backseat next to Mia who has her hands buried in her face.

Even though the interior is dark, I know this is the nicest car I’ve ever been in. But it’s hard to take any of it in as I’m acutely aware of Mia shaking in the seat next to me, sobbing. Why is she so nervous about Christian?

“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, trying to be reassuring, but she just shakes her head in response.

Once Christian slides into the front seat, he nods and Taylor begins backing out of the driveway. Christian touches the illuminated screen in the dash, scrolling through a long list of contacts before finally selecting Luke’s name. The car is filled with the sound of the long drawn out ring of the phone, and then Luke’s voice comes through the stereo.

“Mr. Grey?” He says, his cool, professional tone of voice back.

“I have Anastasia with me. You can go home, Sawyer,” Christian says briskly.

“Yes, sir,” Luke replies and Christian reaches up for the screen again to end the call.

Mia’s able to stop crying as we drive through the narrow residential streets and past the campus, but by the time we pull onto the I-5 South towards Seattle, Christian still hasn’t said anything.

“You’re not going to tell Dad, are you?” Mia asks quietly.

“Don’t, Mia,” He says, in the same cold tone. “I don’t want to hear a single word out of you.”

Jeez, he’s really mad.

I look over and see Mia’s lip begin to quiver again and I reach over and grasp her hand. I don’t know if Christian is going to want me to go back to my own apartment when we make it back to Escala, but I hope he lets me go up to his penthouse with him and Mia. I think it would be better if there was some kind of buffer there between the two of them until he calms down.

Taylor drops us off at the elevators once we arrive in the parking garage and then turns up the ramp towards Christian’s parking places. I don’t have to ask Christian whether or not he’d be okay with me coming up to his apartment because once the three of us step into the elevator, he simply pushes the button for the penthouse and inputs his code. I can feel the anger fuming off of him as the elevator whisks us up to the 31st floor and when the doors slide open and he steps into the empty foyer, I have to nudge Mia a little to get her to walk forward.

We follow him into the living room, and I expect Christian to take us into his office where he keeps the only chairs in the entire apartment, but to my surprise, when I step through the arch from the foyer, I see a huge, angular, white couch, probably big enough to seat at least eight people, sitting in the middle of the room, and he walks directly towards it.

He bought furniture?

“Sit,” Christian barks at Mia as he begins pacing the floor. She does as he says, looking up at him, terrified, so I settle down next to her and grip her hand again.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Christian says in a low controlled voice as he glares down at Mia. “What the fuck were you thinking, Mia?”

“I wasn’t. I mean… I got into the Seattle Ballet Company,” She says. “They were having a party as a celebration for all of the new cast members. I didn’t want to be rude…”

“You didn’t want to be rude?” Christian asks, incredulously. “You’re sixteen fucking years old, at a party with alcohol and recreational drugs and you’re excuse is that you didn’t want to be rude?”

“I didn’t bring any of that stuff. I didn’t do anything,” She says defensively. “I just wanted to be there…”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Mia. I can smell marijuana on you,” He growls. “Do you understand what kind of consequences the stupid decision you made tonight could’ve had? Do you even comprehend what you could have done to your entire fucking future tonight?”

“Calm down, Christian,” She says, anger growing in her tone now too. “It was weed, not heroine, and I’m fine.”

“Excuse me?” Christian demands. “Weed was not the worst thing they found in that house. Your new “cast members” were caught with cocaine, ecstasy, and LSD. You’re only fine because I made sure you were fine. You’re lucky the police called me and the Sergeant just happens to owe me a favor because they have every intention of prosecuting every single person who was at that party. You put yourself at risk for felony drug charges.”

“And you know all about felonies don’t you, Christian?” Mia spits back at him.

He freezes, and if possible, his face hardens even further. “What did you just say to me?” He asks in a deathly quiet voice.

“Who are you to lecture me? You got picked up by the police for the first time when you were thirteen years old. And what was it you were doing at sixteen? Oh… that’s right, you were having sex Mrs. Lincoln and lying to all of us. Don’t you dare think that I’m going to sit here and let you lecture me, Christian. I may have made a bad choice tonight, but at least I didn’t sell out everybody that I love.”

Christian’s shaking and I know an explosion is coming. I can feel the fury radiating from him like heat.

“Okay, okay,” I say, standing up and placing myself in between the two of them. “This isn’t helping anybody. Christian you should… go take a few deep breaths for a minute. I’ll talk to Mia and you can come back when you’ve calmed down.”

“Anastasia, this doesn’t concern you,” Christian says.

“Mia called me, not you. You’re just making this worse right now and you’re both going to continue to make it worse until you can reign in your tempers,” I say, being careful to include Mia in the blame as well. He glares at me for a long beat, then shoots an angry look at his sister before storming across the room and disappearing down a hallway towards the back of the apartment.

“Why would you say that?” I ask, turning to Mia. “That has absolutely nothing to do with what happened tonight.”

“Why shouldn’t I? All everybody ever talks about is that we should care about what Christian is going through but why should I care about him if he doesn’t care about me?”

“You know that he cares about you, Mia. Very much,” I tell her as I sit on the couch next to her and she rolls her eyes.

“Really? Because he didn’t see me for two years.”

“That wasn’t his choice. He wanted to see you, but…”

“Oh that was his choice and you should know that better than anyone, Ana,” She interrupts me, and I sigh.

“What’s going on, Mia?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re yelling at your Dad, you’re yelling at Christian, you’re going to parties that I know you know you have no business being at. I did the angsty teenage girl thing and I recognize a call for help when I see one. So, what’s going on?”

She pauses for a long moment, looking down at her fingers in her lap but I don’t shift my expectant gaze away from her. “You don’t know what it’s like being a Grey kid,” She says in a quiet voice. “People think that we’re so lucky because we have all this money, and the huge house, and we go to the best schools, but all of those perks come with expectations. We have to be the best at everything we do and follow this formula that my parents think is the only way a person can be successful: Musical Instrument, Foreign Language, Private School, Academic Achievement, Ivy League College… They treat us all like some kind of checklist. There wasn’t a big celebration when Elliot got into Stanford or whe, Christian got into Harvard, it’s what was expected of them, just like Harvard, or Yale, or Princeton is expected of me. I’m tired of it. I don’t want to be perfect, cookie-cutter little Mia, anymore.”

“So don’t be,” I tell her. “But this isn’t the way to do that, Mia. You don’t carve your own path through the woods by burning down the entire forest. Have you even talked to your parents about the way you feel?”

“Of course I have.”

“I mean, really talked. Without the yelling and the drama and the threats about Elena Lincoln.”

“What’s the point?” She asks, looking down at her hands again. “I know what they’ll say. I watched Christian fight my dad on Harvard for over a year and it didn’t get him anywhere.”

I don’t get a chance to respond to that, because Christian comes back down the hallway dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He’s strapping a pair of black, fingerless gloves with pads over the knuckles on his hands as he looks up at Mia, still clearly riddled with anger.

“I’m going down to the gym,” He says. “I’ve called Mom, she’s on her way to pick you up.”

“You called our parents?” Mia asks, panicked.

“Of course I called our parents. What did you think was going to happen? You were just going to hide out here forever? You have to go home at some point, Mia.”

“I thought maybe you of all people could be on my side for one night. You know what I have at stake here, you know what Dad is going to do and you told him anyway? Some brother,” She says coldly and then turns to look away from him. Christian scowls, shaking his head with frustration and then disappears into the foyer.

“I’m so dead,” Mia groans, resting her head in her hands when we hear the sound of the elevator door closing.

“Don’t be dramatic, Mia,” I tell her, and she looks up at me with a pleading look in her eyes.

“My Dad is going to make me quit ballet now. You know that, right? There’s no way that after what happened tonight he’s going to let me be in the Seattle Ballet Company and without that there’s no way I’m going to get anywhere near Juilliard. I can’t believe Christian called our parents, he’s such an asshole.”

“Hey!” I say, firmer now. “You made the choice to go to this party tonight, not Christian. I know you can’t see past your anger right now, but he helped you. Your parents could be picking you up from a police station right now but instead they’re picking you up from here. Which do you think is going to go over better for you?”

“It’s not going to change the fact that I’m still about to lose everything.”

“Maybe… but that’s not Christian’s fault, Mia. You made this choice, not him, and there are consequences to that choice. If your dad makes you quit your ballet company it’s not because Christian asked your mom to come pick you up.”

She frowns, but doesn’t say anything else. I get up and head to the kitchen to get her a glass of water because, once she calms down and the adrenaline starts to work its way out of her system, I can see her starting to sway a little from the alcohol or marijuana, I can’t tell which. She sips it slowly while we sit there in silence until, once again, we hear the ping of the elevator and the sound of high heels on the marble floor of the foyer. I turn around to look through the archway and see Taylor appear, leading Grace into the living room. To my surprise, Grace is smiling.

“Anastasia, I didn’t expect to see you here,” She says brightly. She holds her arms out for me and, although I’m confused by her attitude, I get up to hug her. When she releases me, she looks around the room as if she’s searching for something.

“Where’s Christian?” She asks.

“Uh… he went down to the gym for a while,” I tell her, and she frowns but then nods and looks down at Mia.

“Did you have fun with your brother tonight?” She asks and Mia looks back at her, perplexed, and then nods slowly.

“Um… yeah. It was great,” She says carefully and Grace smiles.

“Good. I’m glad you two are finally getting to spend some time together. I know he missed it. I was hoping I would get to talk to him before we left, but it’s getting late and we need to get back to your dad. I suppose I’ll have to call him tomorrow. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Mia says, grabbing her bag and quickly standing from the couch. It’s clear Grace doesn’t know anything about the party and Mia looks ecstatic, but I’m confused. Clearly, Christian has covered for her but with how angry he was when he stormed out of here, I don’t understand why.

Grace tells me that she’s planning a dinner for all the family to get together and makes me promise I will send her my schedule so that I can be there. I assure her that I wouldn’t miss it for the world and both she and Mia wave goodbye to me as they head back into the foyer and disappear into the elevator.

Once, they’re gone, I collapse back onto the couch, the events of the night catching up to me and leaving me exhausted. The leather on the sofa still smells brand new and reminds me of the significance of its presence. It’s a sign of change and that Christian’s moving forward. I glance around the room for any other furniture he may have purchased, but there isn’t anything else. Still, this is progress.

Unfortunately, I know that right now he’s sulking, probably still angry, but also hurt by the things Mia said to him. I know that his intentions were good and that he was just trying to understand and help his little sister, even if he was angry. He shouldn’t be left alone to feel like the bad guy right now. He doesn’t deserve that, and so, I peel myself off the couch and take the elevator down to the gym so that I can make sure he’s okay. When I get down there, I find him near the back wall pummeling his fists into a boxing bag with everything he has.

“I think it’s dead,” I say as I come up behind him and he freezes for a minute before turning back to face me.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this, Anastasia.” He says, bitterly. “She shouldn’t have called you.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” He says, but he throws another hard punch into the bag which tells me that he isn’t.

“She’s a teenager,” I say, trying to be reassuring. “Worse, she’s a teenage girl. They do stupid things.”

“You don’t think I know teenagers do stupid things?” Christian asks, not pausing his attacks as he speaks. “I think I wrote the book on adolescent mistakes.”

“So why are you so mad at her?” I ask and he turns to look at me like I missing something that should be obvious, so, I continue. “I mean, I know why you’re mad at her, but this is more than mad, Christian. I’ve seen you mad, but not so mad that you had to leave the room to pulverize an innocent piece of gym equipment.”

“She was doing drugs, Anastasia,” He says.

“I know, and that was wrong, but I don’t think it’s something that’s a habit for her. She gave into peer pressure, and that sucks, but I think tonight was probably enough to put a little fear in her so that it doesn’t happen again. At least all she did was smoke a little pot, she could have been doing ecstasy or tripping on LSD. Weed’s not even as bad for you as alcohol is…”

“Are you seriously defending her doing drugs right now?”

“What? Like you’ve never smoked pot?”

“No. Never,” He says, disgustedly. “Have you?”

“Well… yeah, like, once, back in high school. In fact, I think I was pretty close to Mia’s age.”

“Great,” He replies, turning around and, if possible, hitting the bag even harder.

“Christian, what’s going on?” I ask and he turns a fiery gaze on me.

“Do you know how my birth mother died, Anastasia?” He asks and the vitriol in his tone is so intense, I find myself stepping back a few paces before I answer. I remember, faintly Elliot telling me about Christian’s childhood, once, a long time ago, before Christian and I started dating. I can’t remember if he told me how she died, only that after Christian was brought into the hospital, he had shown signs of abuse. That’s the only part that’s stuck with me.

“No,” I tell him, honestly.

“My birth mother was a crack whore, Anastasia. She died of an overdose and I was alone with her body in her dirty, little drug den for four days. It was her pimp that finally found me and, even after he left the house, it still took him hours to raise the alarm. Probably because he was disappointed that he didn’t get to beat the shit out of me one last time before they took me away.”

I flinch. I can remember now that Elliot had told me this, but hearing it from Elliot in a diner in Cambridge is not that same as hearing it, in detail, from Christian. Thinking of him as a small child, dirty and scared as he hovers over the body of his dead mother, alone for days, leaves me winded. It’s too much, especially when I think of the additional trauma he suffered at the hands of Elena.

“Christian,” I say my voice quiet and a little shaky as I fight of the overwhelming sadness that feels as though it’s trying to choke me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

“Well, now you do,” He says, and he turns around and begins punching the bag again.

“Hey, stop,” I tell him, rushing forward so that I can see his face, but he doesn’t stop throwing blows into the bag. “Christian, stop!”

“I can’t stop, Anastasia,” He says, as his fists begin to rain violently over the vinyl cover. “I can’t stop.”

“Why?”

“Because this is when I would call Elena,” He says, and the second the words are out of his mouth, I can tell by the way his face morphs into a look of horror that he wishes he could take them back.

“W-what?” I stutter. He stops hitting the bag and turns away from me. The fingers sticking out of the end of his gloves reach up into his hair as he paces around the gym. It takes a second for him to calm down and when he stops and looks back at me there is something in his eyes that is close to defeat.

“She knows me,” He says. “I know you don’t want to hear that, and believe me, I don’t want to say it to you, but she does. She gets me and she knows how to calm me down when I get like this.”

I take a deep breath, and swallow all the words about why she knows him so well that I instinctively want to hurl back at him.

Keep it constructive, Ana.

“She’s not the only person who can be there for you, Christian. That’s all we want. Your family and I, we want to be the people you can turn to. She wants you to believe that she understands you more than we ever could, but that’s only true if you keep shutting us out. We can be here for you if you’ll let us.”

“You’re not here, though. None of you were. It was only her.”

“I’m here now,” I tell him. “And I promise, I’m not going anywhere. You can talk to me. Give me the chance to be the person you would call.”

He stares at me for a minute and then takes a deep breath. I can see his body relax a little and when he speaks again, most of the strained tension in his voice is gone.

“Let’s go back upstairs,” He says. “I don’t want to talk down here.”

“Okay,” I agree and he nods and motions for me to lead the way back to the elevator.

Once we’re back in his apartment, he disappears into the back hallway again to take a shower while I lay back down on the brand new couch and stare out at the twinkling lights of the city through the huge, floor to ceiling windows. I thought the view from my apartment was beautiful, but this… high above everything else and with the long line of panoramic windows, he has a view of the entire city. It’s incredible.

As I watch the lights of the ferries gliding slowly across the inky black water of Elliot bay, I feel myself begin to relax, so much that when Christian returns and sits on the couch by my head, it startles me.

“Don’t get up,” He says gently, but I do anyway and turn to face him.

“I’ll fall asleep if I lay here any longer,” I tell him. “Your couch is very comfortable. I’m glad you’ve finally decided to move into your apartment.”

“Well, apparently when it’s empty, it freaks out this girl I’m trying to win back. I thought this was a good place to start.”

I look away from him, fighting the involuntary smile his words elicit as I run my fingers along the smooth leather. I don’t know how it does it, but with just his words he can make me want to forget everything and let myself take the leap again. When I look at him again, my eyes immediately zero in on his mouth, his lips which I’m dying to feel against mine…

Focus, Ana. This could be a breakthrough.

“I’m sorry about your birth mother,” I begin. “I didn’t realize just how horrible that whole thing really was.”

“Don’t be,” Christian says, “Her death was the best thing that could have happened to me. I was raised by a stable, perfect family instead of some whore who couldn’t even protect me from her pimp.”

The bitterness in his tone makes me cringe, though not as much as his choice of words and a sense of guilt that has plagued me for the past two years washes over me yet again.

“Christian, I need to apologize to you,” I say quietly.

“For what?”

“That day in New York…” I begin shakily, and I see his body tense. Clearly, this isn’t a memory he likes to think about. “When I left you on top of the Empire State Building, I called you a whore. That was uncalled for, and now that I know about your Mom… I realize that it actually was cruel and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…”

“No, it’s not. Look, sometimes, when I get angry, I say things that are out of line and that’s not fair to you. It doesn’t help anybody so, I promise you, it’s going to stop. I want everything we say to each other to come from a good place. I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you either, Anastasia. I love you, more than anything else in the world,” He says, and again, the words weigh heavily on my resolve. It’s hard to rationalize right now, sitting here with him and listening to him say these things, why I’m doing this. Why I’m setting all these limits, and boundaries… He loves me, and I love him. If I want to be with him, I should be with him… but then my brain summons an image of Elena and her smug face during the trial while she watched her perfect little plan fall into place around her and sent my world crumbling to the ground.

I haven’t seen her yet and apparently, neither have any of the people who have placed themselves around him to try and protect him from her… Christian hasn’t even really mentioned her other than tonight, but I know she’s lurking somewhere, waiting for any sign of weakness before she breaks in and burns everything we’ve built to the ground.

She’s the reason for the boundaries right now. Before I allow myself to get swept up by the hurricane force that is Christian Grey, we have to try and deal with this traumatic bonding issue. I need to trust that he won’t break under her influence again and I need to be prepared to deal with whatever manipulative games she’s going to play. That’s where I went wrong last time, I underestimated her and the damage she had done to Christian.

It’s not a mistake I’m going to make again.

I look back up at Christian, studying him carefully. I’m here because he was having a hard time dealing with the Mia thing and he needed someone to talk to. That’s what I need to focus on right now.

“Why did you cover for Mia?” I ask him. “I mean, if the drug thing is your… boundary, why did you lie to your parents? I mean, I get not wanting her to be arrested and having a record because we all want such great things for her, but your parents could have punished her without jeopardizing her future.”

“My dad would have taken ballet away from her,” He says. “I’m starting to see a lot of myself in Mia, too much of myself that I don’t want to see. I don’t want her turning to something she shouldn’t to deal with this rebellious, angry thing she’s got going on, the way that I did. Ballet is a healthy outlet. Something she loves, and something that can keep her focused and on the right path so that she can get into a good school and do some growing up. I know what she’s going through, but I don’t want her making my mistakes.”

“But you left school. Are you saying you think that was a mistake?”

“I honestly don’t know,” He says, and then he sighs. “GEH is everything I always wanted it to be. It’s successful, more successful than even I had imagined, and I built it. It’s mine. But, it just… doesn’t make me feel the way that I thought it would and no matter what I do to make it bigger, better, more profitable… that doesn’t change.”

“You’ve been alone,” I tell him. “Success only means something if you have someone to share it with and we weren’t there. We… I abandoned you. But I’m here now, and I’m not going to leave again. We all want to be in your life, Christian, and that’s why we want you to get help from Flynn so that you can let Elena go. She’s poison to you and to every single one of us and we can’t fix what’s been broken as long as she’s still around.”

There’s a conflicted look on his face and I actually think that we may be right on the brink of a breakthrough but when I open my mouth to speak again, it’s a long, drawn out yawn that escapes, rather than words.

“You’re tired?” Christian asks.

“No, I’m fine,” I argue, but, unfortunately, I yawn again.

“Ana, It’s late. If you’re tired we can talk later. I like the idea of having plans to see you again.”

“No, you said you needed someone to talk to. I don’t want to leave unless I know you’re okay.”

“Then stay,” He says. “We can talk in the morning. I’ll sleep out here if you want me to.”

“But I thought…”

“I’m fine, Ana,” He interrupts me. “Really, and, thank you. Not just for sticking around but for being there in the first place. It means a lot to me, seeing how much you care about my family.”

“Of course, Christian,” I tell him, yawning again as I feel my eyelids begin to droop. “Well, I guess if you’re really okay, I should go back to my apartment.”

He frowns, exhaling deeply with disappointment that I’m not going to stay as he suggested, but nodding his head as if he hadn’t really expected me to stay anyway.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” He asks. “I could make dinner reservations or have something brought here.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I have plans with Kate and Ros tomorrow night. I’m going down to the market place in the morning, though. Around 7. You could come with me, if you wanted to.”

“I’d love that,” He says, looking up at me and smiling but when his gaze meets mine, his smile fades and I see a pained kind of expression cross his eyes. He looks at me with a kind of desperation that I don’t understand… he was happy just a second ago.

“I want to kiss you,” He admits, and my smile slowly fades away as I stare into his eyes which still seem darker than they used to be.

“I know… and that’s why I need to go,” I tell him. He lets out a low sigh, but nods. I get up from the couch and cross the room, the sound of my footsteps echoing behind me, but before I get to the foyer, I pause and turn back around to face him.

“Christian,” I say, and he turns to look at me. I take a deep breath and finally allow myself to say the words that I’ve wanted to say since I left that first night I came to this apartment. “I want to kiss you too.”

His somber expression shifts at my words, “You do?”

“Yeah. I do. Of course I do,” I tell him, and he gets off the couch, looking at me as though he’s hoping my decision to leave has changed.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I promise, and then I turn back into the foyer and press the button for the elevator.

Next Chapter

Chapter 10

Image result for treadmill

Since I went to bed so early, I’m wide awake by 4:30 the next morning. Elliot isn’t going to be here until 7:30 to pick me up for work and since I know I’m not going to get back to sleep, I decide to get up and head to the gym downstairs to run for a while. Maybe that’s the reason I was feeling so angsty yesterday, I haven’t been keeping up with my workout routine.

I get out of bed and dig through my drawers for a pair of jogging pants and a sports bra, and then throw my hair up into a ponytail before heading out for the elevator. As I expected, the staff of Escala haven’t arrived yet so when I make it down to the basement, it’s completely dark except for a sliver of light streaming into the hallway from the gym. I can hear the steady hammering of feet on the treadmill from whoever is in there and it’s slightly disappointing because I had been hopeful that the gym would be empty this early in the morning. When I round the corner though, I see that the person on the treadmill is Christian, and the disappointment wanes.

He’s facing away from me, reading the subtitles on the TV in front of him, which is playing the news, while he listens to his iPod through his headphones. I would guess that he’s been here for a while because there is a dark line of sweat down the back of his tight, gray t-shirt and the sight of it makes me bite my lip. A sweaty Christian Grey incites libidinous thoughts, and as I try and push them out of my mind, I find myself wishing that I would have worn a tank top rather than just a sports bra. One of us, at least, needs to be able to keep a clear head if we’re going to keep up with this no touching rule and from just the time we spent together last night, I don’t think adding extra temptation is good for Christian’s reluctant sense of self-discipline.

When I step onto the treadmill next to him and press the button to get started, the movement catches his eye and he turns to look at me, scowling at first, then surprised, then slightly stunned as his eyes travel down the line of my collar bones.

Yeah… I definitely should have worn a tank top.

“Good morning, Christian,” I tell him as he pulls one of his earbuds out and I increase the speed of the track on my machine.

“Good morning,” He replies, panting from the exertion of his run. “You really do run now.”

“Nothing gets past you,” I say. “Are you always down here this early?”

“Usually. It’s generally the only time it’s empty down here.”

“That’s what I was hoping for,” I tell him with a sarcastic smirk and he laughs.

“Well, I’m sorry I ruined that for you. Please, don’t let me interrupt you.”

I roll my eyes and then reach over to take the remote for the TV off of his treadmill and flip to the guide for something more engaging than CNN Business News. There isn’t much on this early in the morning so I settle for a rerun of a medical documentary show about obese patients getting bariatric surgery.

“Looking for motivation?” Christian asks with a grimace when I set the remote down and focus intently on the graphic surgery footage.

“Gotta have something to get you up in the morning,” I tell him, and he shakes his head but he doesn’t change the channel. We run together for a while without saying anything else and, besides the steady hammering of our feet on the treadmill, the room is filled only with the sound of our labored panting.

It’s… distracting.

I try and focus back on the muted TV but once the surgery is over, the show is too slow to keep my interest, and my mind begins to wander back to the dream I had last night. The images make me feel a little awkward with Christian running only a few feet away from me so I reach forward and increase the resistance on my treadmill, hoping the added exertion will help me focus more.

It doesn’t.

In fact, all that it really seems to accomplish is that I begin to sweat. Unconsciously, I reach up and wipe my hand over the back of my neck and down across my chest, and Christian picks up one of the towels draped over the arm of his treadmill and hands it to me.

“Thanks,” I say gratefully, but he only nods as I begin to towel off. His eyes are trained on me and there is a kind of hunger in his gaze that is hard for me to ignore. Apparently the 7ish hours that we spent apart have done nothing to mitigate the pull between us, it feels exactly the way it did last night. Only hotter, and sweatier, and… oh Jesus, I really need a distraction.

I look at the workout summary on his treadmill and frown. I usually run right around 7 mph, but he’s got his machine set to 8.6. I know it’s childish, but it feels like he’s beating me and that’s not something I can allow, so I increase my own speed to 8.7. He looks over, smirks at me, and then presses the button until he’s running at 9 mph. I counter with 9.3 and so he increases his resistance to as high as it will go. There is a low groan as the angle on his treadmill increases so that he is essentially running uphill and I sigh and change my settings to match his.

It’s immediately terrible.

I feel a deep burn in my calves and my behind, and after only a minute or two I’m out of breath and a sharp stitch begins rapidly developing in my side. My breasts are beginning to hurt a little from the extra bounce and strain of running uphill and when I reach up to hold onto them to keep them still, I hear Christian’s low groan.

“Stop it,” He growls.

“What?” I pant back at him. “Can’t take a little competition?”

“It’s not the competition,” He says through clenched teeth. “You know what you’re doing.”

I look down at my hands and let out a small, breathy laugh. “It hurts, I can’t help it! They’re very sensitive.”

“Stop,” He groans, and when I don’t move my hands, he has to look away.

“You could give up,” I tell him. “If it’s too much for you.”

“It’s only too much if you keep up with this ridiculous no touching rule,” He says, and when he looks back at me, his eyes rake fervently over me again. “What do you say we both throw in the towel and hit the showers?”

I laugh again. “Keep dreaming.”

“Oh, I will,” He says. “Vividly.”

I shake my head and look back at the workout summary on my panel. I’ve only gone a mile and a half but the effort of the run at this speed and intensity is becoming too much for me now and I’m starting to feel the soreness all over my body.

“Okay, you win,” I concede as I lower the incline on my treadmill and decrease my speed to a quick walk. He lets out a low, victorious sound, hits the kill switch and then steps off his machine so that he’s standing next to me. I feel my body tense as he leans in, his chest only just far enough away from mine so that he’s not touching me, and his lips nearly brush against my ear.

“Thanks for the workout, Anastasia,” He whispers, and his breath against my neck gives me the chills. “Make sure you stretch out, I’d hate for you to be sore. Well…” His voice trails off and I feel the muscles deep inside of me clench at the implication of his words.

No touching. No touching. I repeat inside my head as I ache to just turn my head slightly to the right and kiss him… hard. He smiles at my reticence, probably guessing the direction of my wayward thoughts, and then saunters confidently out of the gym.

When I hear the door close behind me, I too hit the kill switch and step off my treadmill. As I do, I feel the protest of the muscles in my legs and realize, he is right. I do need to stretch. I also need a shower. A long, cold shower.

My early morning ended up being a good thing because Elliot texts me around six asking if he can pick me up a little early since he’s got to get down to the actual job site, where the new GEH is being built, today. We pull into the parking garage a little after seven and as we make our way past the line of cars, I see Luke waiting for the elevator. The doors open and he steps inside, spotting us approaching only as he reaches to press the button for our floor.

“Hey, Luke,” Elliot says when we get into the elevator.

“Mr. Grey,” He says with a professional kind of aloofness. “Miss Steele.”

Miss Steele? That’s all I get? After everything we’ve been through together in the last two years, the best he can give me is Miss Steele?

I give him a tight smile and a nod in response while I lean against the back of the elevator, and focus my eyes on the numbers crawling higher as we rise up to the fourth floor. Elliot gets off, waving goodbye to me as he disappears around the corner, and Luke reaches forward to press the door close button. Once we’re alone, he takes a deep breath, but doesn’t turn to look at me.

“Looks like the nice weather is going to hold out through the weekend,” He says to the metal panel in front of him.

The weather? Really?

“I guess,” I reply. He nods but doesn’t say anything else, and we ride up the remaining four floors in silence. I hate how awkward it feels, but I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to him, or even if he wants me to say something.

When the doors open to release us onto the eighth floor, I frown. I thought I was early this morning but I see both Andrea and Leila already seated behind the desk through the glass doors along with Brian Clark, the new acquisitions intern who didn’t believe I wasn’t just here as Christian’s assistant. I grind my teeth together as I realize that helping Andrea until whatever it is that Christian has planned for me, is ready is going to make me look like a liar.

While I try to remind myself that I shouldn’t care what he thinks, I reach out for the pad next to the door with my security badge, but still, nothing happens. Shit, I stormed out yesterday before Andrea had the security team fix the permissions on my badge…

“Let me get that for you,” Luke says, pulling out his own badge and swiping it against the pad. The red light turns green and I hear the clicking of the lock opening. Luke holds open the door for me and I thank him awkwardly as I hurry inside. When I step through the doors, both Andrea and Leila look shocked to see me. What was it Leila said when I left yesterday? They never last? Perhaps it isn’t unusual for Christian to chase off interns…

“Anastasia, you’re back,” Andrea says, surprised.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about yesterday. There was a… misunderstanding. Everything’s okay now,” I reply, and Leila narrows her eyes at me.

“Is it though?” She asks, and then turns to look at Andrea. “Are we even positive she’s supposed to be here? I mean her badge doesn’t work which means that Taylor might have revoked her privileges. I don’t know how pleased Mr. Grey would be to find out you’re just letting anyone up here, Sawyer,” She adds turning back to glare at Luke.

He gives her a tight smile, which is more of a grimace than anything. It’s clear these two don’t like each other.

“Well as a member of Taylor’s team, Miss Williams, I think I know who has access to this floor. Mr. Grey, himself, sent out an email late last evening assuring the entire security team that Miss Steele would return this morning.”

“What?” Andrea asks, panicked and she picks up her phone and begins clicking frantically on the screen. “I didn’t get anything,” She says.

“You’re not on the security team,” Luke says, pulling out his own phone and placing it on the desk for Andrea to see. She skims the email and seems to be satisfied by what it says because she hands the phone back to him and smiles.

“Perfect. Would you mind correcting the permissions on Anastasia’s badge so that she could get through the doors, Sawyer?”

“Of course,” He says, turning to me for the badge. I hand it to him and he disappears down the hallway that leads to Christian’s office. I walk around the desk and place my bag inside the drawer Andrea pointed out to me yesterday and then turn to face her.

“So, Mr. Grey said that I’m going to be helping you for the next couple weeks, is there anything I can do for you?” I ask, ignoring Brian’s self-satisfied smirk.

“I don’t think so… I suppose you could take these contracts back to Mr. Grey’s office. Just leave them in a place on his desk where he’ll be sure to see them. He’s running a little late this morning, but once he gets in we usually have a quick meeting to go over his schedule and then I can look through what I have and see if there’s anything you can help with,” Andrea says, holding out a large envelope for me.

“Sounds good,” I tell her as I take the contracts and then walk up the hallway towards Christian’s office.

Christian’s desk is extremely clean so I’m not really worried about him missing the contracts, but because I want to be absolutely sure, I put a bright blue post-it that says “Read Me” on the envelope and then place it on top of his closed MacBook. I’m about to turn to leave when something catches my eye. Yesterday when I was here, I’d thought that this office was entirely devoid of any kind of decoration, but sitting on his desk is a framed 5×7 picture. I lean over, pick it up, and when I realize what it is, I inhale sharply. It’s the picture I took of the two of us in front of the fireplace at the cabin in Vermont. He’s smiling down at me, not the camera, looking sexy and in love, and I look deliriously happy. I stare longingly at it, reminiscing over that perfect weekend.

What am I doing?

It’s too easy to fall back into old patterns with Christian. I’m losing focus, letting him push the boundaries too far… not that I’m not pushing them as well. My hesitation last night as I left, and the compulsion I felt this morning on the treadmill is more than proof enough of that. But, I know that if I’m not careful, I’ll wind up back in his arms before I know what’s happening, and if that happens, I don’t know if he’ll still be willing to get the help he needs or to make the changes that I need to be able to forgive him. If that happens, if I go back too quickly, whatever we’re able to build is going to fall apart, and it’ll wreck me.

Of course, I understand that logically, when I’m alone… but all of that seems to go right out the window whenever he’s standing in front of me.

I need to get over that. I need to stay focused. If I want this back, what I had in this perfect moment captured in this picture, then I have to be strong in what I need. The Ana in this picture could love him absolutely because she had unwavering faith and trust in him. If I’m going to get this back, I have to get that back first.

I know that in order to do that, I’m going to have to face the hard stuff. I’m going to have to talk to him about the trial and about Elena, and I’m going to have to do it without running away from him or backing down. I don’t know when is the best time or what is the best way to do that, but I know it has to be soon. She’s here somewhere, lurking around Seattle, and I know that it’s only a matter of time before she rears her overly blonde head.

I brush my fingers over the glass, tracing the outline of Christian’s face with my finger, and in that moment, it occurs to me then that this might be the reason both Andrea and Leila had such a shocked reaction to my arrival yesterday. Christian doesn’t have any personal items in this office at all, except this picture. If they’ve seen this, and they recognized me, then they know that Christian and I have some kind of relationship. Maybe that’s why Leila seemed so curious about how I knew Christian when she interrogated me yesterday afternoon.

Reluctantly, I put the picture back down on Christian’s desk and hurriedly exit his office. When I round the corner a broad smile crosses my lips as I see Ros standing at the front desk, going over a document with Brian, and I can tell from here that’s she’s agitated. That disappears instantly though when she looks up at me and lets out an excited shriek.

“Ana!” She cries, dropping the paper in her hands on the desk and hurrying to close the distance between us as fast as she can in her killer heels. “I heard you were here yesterday, why didn’t you come and see me?”

“I uh… left early,” I tell her, and Ros sighs and gives me a sympathetic look.

“Christian?” She asks, as though she already knows that’s the answer.

“Yeah,” I say, and then laugh. She really does know him better than most and she’s still a good friend to him. He’s been so alone these past few years, I’m glad he’s had her. Her friendship might be something that will help him realize that he doesn’t need Elena.

“Figures,” Ros says, rolling her eyes. “He’s ridiculous sometimes, but, I don’t have to tell you that. So, what do you say you and I go to lunch this afternoon and catch up? My treat!”

“Sure!” I reply with a smile. “I could call Kate and have her join us. She’s interning with her dad at Kavanagh Media so she’s just a few blocks away.”

“Absolutely!” Ros says excitedly. “And Kavanagh Media is on our RFP list so I can charge our meal to Christian as a business expense. I’ll make reservations at Palisade, say noon?”

“Sounds great,” I tell her, and she wraps me in a hug before turning back to Brian, and motioning for him to follow her into her office.

“So you’re friends with Miss Bailey, too?” Andrea asks when I come back around the desk.

“Oh… yeah. Christian and Ros… I mean, Mr. Grey and Miss Bailey, kind of came as a package deal when they were in school.”

“So you were fairly close to Mr. Grey then?” She presses me, and again, I wonder about the picture in Christian’s office and what she’s figured out about our relationship. I try to think of a way to circumvent this topic again without really lying but thankfully, I don’t have to answer as the sound of the lock opening on the front door catches our attention, and I look up to see Taylor holding the door open for Christian.

“Good Morning, Mr. Grey,” Leila says quickly as he approaches the desk.

“Good Morning, Leila,” He greets her. “Andrea. Anastasia.”

“Can I get you some coffee, sir?” Andrea asks.

“Yes, and we can meet now to go over my schedule for this morning. Bring Anastasia with you. Have the contracts been signed?”

“Yes, sir,” Andrea says. “They’re on your desk.”

“Good. Five minutes,” He says, and then he disappears around the corner without another word. I notice Leila leaning over her desk, watching him walk away for as long as possible, and then settling back down into her chair with a sigh.

“Don’t you love it when he wears that blue tie?” She asks in a dreamy kind of voice. “It really brightens up his eyes.”

“You’ll have to excuse Leila,” Andrea says, rolling her eyes. “She’s in love.

“And why wouldn’t I be?” Leila replies defensively. “Our love story would be so perfect, it’s practically cliché. Handsome, work-obsessed, multi-millionaire is a changed man when he finally opens his heart to his beautiful, young secretary. It sounds like every chick flick ever made. I mean, the only thing it’s missing is a cold-hearted wife who makes him miserable and just uses him for his money.”

“He doesn’t have a wife though,” Andrea says. “Because he’s gay.”

“He’s not gay!” Leila hisses back at her and I can tell by the way she says it that they must’ve had this argument a dozen times. I bite down on my lip to hide my amused smile.

“Leila, I’ve been his assistant for a year and a half and the only person I’ve ever bought flowers for was his little sister. He’s never once had a plus one to an event, and I manage his schedule, I would know if he had a date,” Andrea adds.

“That doesn’t mean he’s gay, it just means that he hasn’t found the right girl yet,” Leila replies, and then she turns to me. “Anastasia, you were friends with him. Will you please tell Andrea that he’s not gay?”

“He’s not gay,” I tell her, still trying to keep a smile off my face. “He had a girlfriend in college.”

“See. Wait… what? A girlfriend?” Leila asks. “Who?”

“Uh… just some girl he had a class with once,” I tell her. “Andrea, aren’t we supposed to be in Mr. Grey’s office?”

“Yes, but coffee first. Come with me, I’ll show you the break room.”

Andrea leads me down a hallway in the opposite direction of Christian’s office. She points out Ros’s office and the copy room before leading me into a small break room where the espresso machine is. I watch carefully as she expertly prepares Christian’s coffee, explaining to me his exact preferences as she does, and then she leads me back out into the hallway for Christian’s office.

“Miss Steele!” Luke calls through the door to the security office as I pass. I stop and turn to look at him and he’s holding my badge out for me.

“Thank-you,” I tell him, clipping the badge to the end of my blazer.

“No problem, ma’am. Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you,” He says and again, I feel my heart sink.

He’s still being distant. There is none of the warmth in his eyes or in his smile that I’m used to seeing and it makes me wonder if Christian had been wrong. He might not have asked Luke to be my friend, but that doesn’t mean Luke didn’t formulate that act all on his own. I just don’t see any of the person in him now that I did before he left Cambridge all those weeks ago.

“Anastasia?” Andrea asks, leaning forward anxiously as I stand frozen in the doorway of the security office.

“Oh, sorry,” I say. I give Luke a sharp nod and then follow after Andrea again.

Our meeting with Christian is short and fairly brusk. The moment we sit in the chairs across from him, Andrea pulls out her iPad and beings reading through the various meetings, appointments, and conference calls that seem to take up every second of his day.

“You do have one conflict on here,” Andrea says as she nears the bottom of his schedule. “It looks like your meeting with R&D overlaps into your appointment with Dr. Flynn this afternoon.”

He sighs and shakes his head irritably. “Move R&D to tomorrow, confirm with Flynn.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grey. There isn’t a two hour window open for R&D tomorrow. Tomorrow is your meeting with the Committee for Technology and Economic Development for the State project. Charlie Tango has been booked for an 8 AM departure to Olympia and isn’t scheduled to return until after 6 PM.”

“Fuck,” Christian hisses. “Fine, move R&D at 5:30, cater in breakfast, and get in contact with Sea-Tac to re-route Charlie Tango. We’ll depart from the helipad on the roof.”

“Yes, sir,” Andrea replies, taking notes on her iPad as she stands from her seat. “Should I have your lunch brought in at noon?”

“Yes, order from that deli on the corner.”

“Yes, sir,” She says with a smile. She motions quickly for me to follow after her as she turns to leave but Christian stops me.

“Not you, Miss Steele,” He says. Andrea nods and continues out of the room, and, when the door closes behind her, I look at Christian with an amused smile.

“Helipad? I take it that means you still fly helicopters?”

“Yes,” He says, returning my smile. “I acquired Charlie Tango about three months ago and she’s absolutely top of the line. Ros hasn’t gotten to fly in her yet and I know she’s excited.”

“Good. I hope you have fun,” I tell him, and he nods.

“I had Barney send these up for you,” He says, reaching into a bag at his feet and pulling out a Macbook, an iPad and an iPhone. My eyes widen.

“What are you sponsored by Apple or something?” I ask with a laugh as he places the devices in front of me.

“No, Anastasia, they’re simply the best the market has to offer right now and I never settle for second best,” He says. “But you’ll need these to work. This is a company phone that you’ll need to keep with you at all times and all three devices have been paired with your company email address. Email is usually the fastest way for me to reach you. I have something for you to do that should keep you busy for a few days. It’s not terribly exciting but I think you’re well suited for the task. I’ll send it over to you this morning, Andrea can tell you what to do from there.”

“Okay.”

“And… there is a charity event this Friday night that I’ve committed to. They’re usually fairly dull, but the food is generally decent. If you’re available, I’d like it if you went with me.”

“Like… As your assistant?” I ask, feeling a small sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as once again he begins pressing against our newly established boundaries.

“No, Anastasia. As my date.”

There is hope in his eyes that feels as though it could cut through me and again, with him sitting only a few feet away from me, I feel my resolve begin to waiver.

Boundaries, Anastasia. Boundaries.

“Christian…” I sigh. “I can’t go on a date with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not dating. I forgave you for the Luke thing but that was a new issue. I still haven’t forgiven you for what happened two years ago and it’s going to take time and some work from both of us for that to happen. Besides, I’m your intern. How would it look if I showed up as your date to a public event?”

“I don’t care how it looks,” He says in a low, controlled voice.

“I do. I’m still in college. I don’t have a career yet and I don’t want my name in the papers or on the internet because I attended some charity event with you. I don’t want to get a reputation as some slutty intern sleeping with her boss to get ahead, and then have to try and find a professional job.”

“I can protect you from that,” He says.

“No, you can’t, and that’s one of the reasons why I need boundaries right now. Besides, I’m not ready to be in a relationship with you, Christian. I have to be able to forgive you before I could even think of something like that.”

“And I’m willing to do whatever it takes for you to forgive me, Anastasia. You just have to tell me what you want from me.”

“I can’t do the work for you, Christian,” I say quietly. “I’ve told you what I need from you and I know that you’ve tried and I can give you credit for that, but I also need to know that you’re not just doing this because I told you to and you think it’s the fastest way to get me back. I can’t go through something like this again and if we’re ever going to get back together, I need to be able to trust you again. If I’m going to trust you, I have to know that this is real. That’s going to take some time.”

“Ana, I’m trying. You can trust me, I never want to do anything to hurt you ever again. I’ve felt what it’s like living without you and it’s agony. Nothing in the world would ever be worth living like this again. If you’d just try, just give me a chance, I would spend the rest of my life proving that to you. I can’t take back what I did but I can tell you that I’m sorry and I am. I’m really sorry, Anastasia.”

“What are you sorry for, Christian?” I ask again.

“That I hurt you,” He replies, and the lack of responsibility in that statement deepens my resolve that nothing can happen between us until he has some kind of break through.

“That’s not enough,” I tell him, and he grimaces.

“Ana…”

“Christian, I really don’t want to talk about this at work. I’ve told you this. If you really want to talk about this, we can try and find some time at home later in the week or we can set up some time with Dr. Flynn, but now isn’t the time. When we’re here, you have to treat me like I’m just one of your employees.”

“Fine,” He says abruptly. “Then we’re done here, Miss Steele. I’ll email you what I have for you to work on and I’ll need it back before end of business on Friday.”

“Then, I’ll wait for your email, Mr. Grey,” I tell him. He nods once, which I assume is my dismissal so I gather my things and head out of his office.

When I get back to the front desk, Leila is occupied on the phone, so I sneak quietly around her, take the seat next to Andrea and open my new Macbook so I can open the email program.

“How did it go?” Andrea asks.

“Fine, he said he’s going to email me a project that he wants me to work on and that you should be able to give me some direction.”

My laptop pings as Christian’s email comes through and Andrea tilts the screen towards her.

“Oh, these are just contracts for a potential client that our lawyers drew up. Usually, when they come back, Mr. Grey will have me scan through them for formatting mistakes and spelling and grammar errors. Since there are multiple contracts you’ll want to scan through them and make sure the language is consistent. Once they’re ready, you’ll .pdf them, password protect them and then send them back to Mr. Grey so that once the client is green-lighted, he can send them over to their lawyers for review.”

“Sounds easy enough,” I tell her but as she scrolls through the list I see her frown.

“Yes, but there are quite a few here. Did he give you a time frame?”

“By the end of the week.”

“This week?” She asks with disbelief. “Well, then I’ll let you get to work. Let me know if you need any help.”

“Okay,” I tell her, and then I click on the first attachment. I’m shocked when the Word document comes up and it’s 64 pages long. Holy Shit! How many of these are there? I scroll through the list of attachments and there are 34 documents attached.

I groan. I don’t even want to do the math of how many pages this is. Andrea gives me the password to use on the .pdf copies and I begin to read.

I’m 23 pages into the first document when Ros comes out of her office at 11:45 for our lunch date.

“Ready, Ana?” She asks.

“Uh… I don’t know. I have a lot of work to do.”

“Well, as the vice president of the company, I’m required to ensure you take at least a thirty minute lunch break per Washington state law. So, grab your bag and lets go.”

I roll my eyes but do as she says, texting Kate that we’re on our way to the restaurant as I step into the elevator with her.

When we arrive at Palisade, the host informs us that Kate has already been seated and when we come around the corner and she sees us over the top of her menu, she jumps out of her seat and runs over to Ros with open arms.

“Ros!” She cries excitedly. “How are you? Oh my god, you look fantastic!”

“Thank you! I’m great, business is great,” Ros beams excited. “How are you?”

“Amazing! This internship is going to be a cakewalk. I’ll be running the place by the end of the summer,” Kate replies, making both Ros and I laugh. We take a seat at the table and once we’ve ordered our meals, Kate begins her typical litany of over personal questions.

“Are you dating anyone?” She asks.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Ros says, smiling broadly. “Her name is Gwen and she’s a marketing executive at Microsoft.”

“Oooh, when do we get to meet her?” Kate asks.

“Soon! In fact, we’d love to have a girls night out. We’re both so tied up with work all the time, we’re in desperate need of a night of fun.”

“How about Friday?” Kate suggests.

“Ugh, Friday is no good,” Ros says. “We have a charity event to go to downtown that night. What about Saturday?”

“Saturday is good for me,” Kate says turning to look at me. “Ana?”

“Sure. I was going to go to the market on Saturday morning but I’m available Saturday night.”

“Excellent, I’ll make reservations. We can have dinner and then head over to Trinity for some drinks and dancing.” Ros says.

“Sounds great. I think Elliot wanted to hang out with some of his old friends from High School sometime soon, so I’m sure he’ll be willing to give me the night off from girlfriend duties.”

“What about you, Ana?” Ros asks. “Is there a boyfriend who might object to you coming along?”

“No, no boyfriend,” I tell her with a small laugh, and she rolls her eyes.

“That must be why Christian has been so weird these past few weeks,” She says. “You two aren’t…?”

“No!” I exclaim quickly. “No, I’m just here as an intern.”

She nods and thankfully, Kate launches into a story of something that happened to her at work that morning, so I don’t have to answer any more questions about the state of mine and Christian’s relationship. I really enjoy the easy conversation we share over lunch, it’s rejuvenating and I realize that maybe the best counter to all of this drama with Christian and Luke is just girl time. By the time we’re finished with lunch, Saturday isn’t just something I’m looking forward to, it feels necessary.

When we get back to the office, I immediately get back to work on the documents I’m reviewing. Leila has gone to lunch with a friend, who ends up being the Suzannah girl I had in my orientation class, and so Andrea has to field phone calls in addition to coordinating the meetings coming through the door every few minutes for Christian and Ros. I’m thoroughly impressed by her ability to multi-task. She’s juggling about 15 different things by the time Leila gets back but never once did she even seem flustered and she’s refused every offer of help from me.

I’m exhausted by the time I get home that night, but I don’t have time to relax. I only made it through six documents this afternoon and by my calculations I need to get through ten a day if I’m going to make it through the work load on time. So, rather than relaxing on the couch to watch TV or pulling a book off the shelf to read, I take my Macbook and crawl into bed, picking up where I left off this afternoon.

By the end of business on Friday, my head is so full of legal jargon and repetitive phrases and numbers that I can’t even think straight. I attach the password protected .pdfs of each document to an email and send it off to Christian and, even though he left the office a little early today so that he could get ready for the charity event tonight, as I gather my things to go home for the weekend, my iPhone buzzes with his email response.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Re: Completed Contracts for your Review

Date: May 21st 2010 06:35 PM

To: Anastasia Steele

Thank-you Anastasia. You’ve done a great job this week. I knew I made the right decision bringing you on.

Dr. Flynn is available for a joint session on Monday at 6:30 PM. If that works for you, I’ll have Andrea put it on my calendar.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings INC

 

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Joint Session

Date: May 21st 2010 06:37 PM

To: Christian Grey

Unless my boss gives me another time consuming project like he did this week, I can make myself available for that appointment.

 

Anastasia Steele

Implementation Director, Grey Enterprises Holdings INC

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Overbearing Bosses

Date: May 22st 2010 06:40 PM

To: Anastasia Steele

I’m sure your boss will be more than willing to free up your time for you to make the appointment. I hope you have a good weekend. Let me know if you want to spend some kind of “pre-planned, casual” time together or whatever the rules are now. I’m available.

 

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, INC

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Rules

Date: May 21st 2010 6:44 PM

To: Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

Sometimes rules ARE a good thing. Thank-you for respecting them, even though I can practically taste the bitterness I know went into typing those words. I have plans on Saturday but I’d be happy to arrange something on Sunday. Do I need to go through Andrea to find time on your calendar?

 

Anastasia Steele

Implementation Director, Grey Enterprises Holdings

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Your designated point of contact

Date: May 21st 2010 6:48 PM

To: Anastasia Steele

In the interest of keeping our work and private lives separate as you have requested, I believe you should coordinate Sunday directly through me. I’ll clear the entire day.

And though rules CAN BE a good thing… sometimes they’re made to be broken.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings INC

I shake my head exasperatedly as I read his last email but choose not to respond as I make my way down to the fourth floor where I’ll have to wait until Elliot is ready to leave for the day.

It’s actually fairly late when I get back to Escala and since I have plans for an early morning trip down to Pike’s Market and I know I’m going to be out late tomorrow night, I decide to take if fairly easy tonight and maybe watch a movie. When I turn the corner of the hallway towards my apartment though, I notice someone sitting there waiting for me.

“Luke?” I ask, recognizing him once I’m almost to the door.

“Ana!” He replies, almost startled, as he scrambles to his feet.

“What are you doing here?”

“I um… I thought we could talk. I brought Chinese food,” He adds quickly, turning around and picking up a plastic bag off the floor and holding it up for me.

“Now you want to talk?” I say, glaring at him and his face falls.

“Ana, I’m sorry. I should have told you…”

I sigh and walk to my door, unlock it, and then gesture for him to head inside. He smiles gratefully and hurries forward.

“Make yourself at home,” I tell him as I throw the bag with my laptop and iPad inside of it on a chair and begin pulling plates down from the cabinet. He drapes his jacket over one of the arms on the couch and then begins dishing food out of the cardboard containers onto the plates I set on the table. We both head to the couch to eat and when I sit down, I take a bite of fried rice and then stare expectantly at him.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” He begins. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t supposed to talk to you. You weren’t even supposed to know I was there. When you caught me that night I walked you back to your car, I thought I was going to be fired. I didn’t know what else to do so, I lied to you to try and cover my own ass. You believed me and I thought that I’d solved everything. It would be so much easier to keep an eye on you if I wasn’t also trying to stay out of your line of sight all the time. I could walk you home those nights when you didn’t have a car and I could be there between classes or late at night when you stayed on campus to study…”

“Okay, I get it. I was job, that’s fine,” I interrupt him. “But what about all the other stuff? What about coffee every morning and watching LOST over the phone together every Wednesday night? I mean, you flew out to see me in Georgia last summer and now I have no idea what to think of that. Was that you acting as my friend or was that because Christian was freaked out about me being alone so he sent you to check on me?”

“It was me,” He says. “All those things were just me. I didn’t mean to get close to you, Ana. It just happened. I care about you, not as a client, but as my best friend. That was real, it still is.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Christian?”

“Because then he would have brought me back here,” He says. “There wouldn’t have been coffee every morning or LOST on Wednesdays or crazy hikes up mountains and I didn’t want to lose that. I saw how you were after he betrayed you. He hurt you and you shut him out completely. I thought that if you knew the truth, you’d do the same to me and I didn’t want that. I know that’s selfish but… I work as CPA and my entire life is my job. I don’t have a family, I don’t have friends. You’re it… and I miss you.”

“If that’s true, then why have you been acting so cold to me all week? You know me better than almost anyone else in the world and you’ve been treating me like a stranger.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you at work. Mr. Grey wasn’t thrilled when he found out how close we were and I just thought if any of that showed at work, it might make things difficult… for both of us.”

“Well I don’t like it,” I tell him. “If you don’t want to be my friend anymore because it’s too hard with Christian or Taylor or whatever, then that’s fine, I guess… but if you’re here tonight because you want to be friends then you can’t treat me like that, even at work. It’s weird and it makes me question your intentions. I don’t want to live some kind of weird double life with you.”

“Okay, then I’ll stop. We’re friends. All the time,” He says.

I let out a long breath and look down at my fingers. “I just need to know… were you spying on me for him? I mean, I told you a lot of personal things. Did all of that make it back to Christian?”

“No,” He assures me. “It wasn’t like that. I really only spoke with Taylor and my reports to him were not personal in nature.”

“I want to believe that,” I tell him. “But it’s hard, Luke. I mean, how am I ever going to be certain you’re around because you’re my friend and not because he’s asked you to be?”

“Because I’ve sat through It Happened One Night with you thirteen times,” He says, a smile creeping across his lips. “That’s true friendship. No amount of money in the world is worth that.”

I glare at him, fighting hard to keep myself from smiling back. He raises an eyebrow at me, challenging me, and for the first time since I saw him that morning he told me he was leaving Cambridge, he looks like Luke again.

“Well then I suppose it’s time to put your money where your mouth is,” I tell him, getting up from the couch and crossing the room for the cabinet under the TV. I search through the line of DVDs until I find the title in question and then pull it out and hold up It Happened One Night for him to see. He sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Bring it on, Ana,” He says, and I laugh, put the movie in the DVD player and plop down next to him on the couch to finish eating.

To emphasis his point that he’s been forced to watch this movie too many times, he recites most of the dialogue for the first hour, but gives up when he realizes it isn’t bothering me. Instead, he scoots into me to rest his head on my shoulder, sighing with dismay every few minutes.

“I just don’t understand how you don’t like this movie.” I say. “Don’t you know that Clark Gable is like the original Hollywood heartthrob?”

“Yeah, but I’ll only ever be able to see him as Rhett Butler. Gone with the Wind has ruined his entire body of work for me, as well as my will to live,” Luke replies sarcastically.

I laugh and my phone buzzes next to me. I look down and see a Seattle number I don’t recognize. I pick it up and look suspiciously at it before showing it to Luke.

“True or False,” I begin. “This is Christian calling me.”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs. “I don’t recognize the number.”

I sigh and answer the phone. “Hello?”

“Ana, it’s Mia,” She says, catching my attention immediately and causing me to sit up as I realize that she sounds panicked. “I’m in trouble. Can you come and get me?”

Next Chapter

Chapter 09

Image result for therapist's office

The waiting room of Dr. Flynn’s office is small with an eclectic assortment of outdated furniture and several back issues of Better Mental Health Magazine. The only sound in the room is the steady click-clacking of the receptionist’s fingers on her keyboard, but the quiet has a soothing effect on me. I spent most of the way over here crying in the front seat of Elliot’s truck, but now, sitting in this slightly moth eaten chair alone with my thoughts, the tears have stopped and I feel a welcoming sense of calm.

It makes me wonder if perhaps Dr. Flynn is pumping something more than lavender fragrance through the air vents.

“Ana,” Dr. Flynn calls as he steps through the door on the other side of the waiting room. He waves me forward and I get out of my chair and walk into his office with him. The room looks almost exactly like I would have pictured it, right down to the dark-chocolate leather chair sitting directly across from the padded chaise lounge. I sit nervously on the edge of the couch, feeling like some kind of mental case.

“Thank-you for coming to see me, Anastasia,” Dr. Flynn says when he sits in the chair across from me. “What can I do for you today?”

“It’s been a bad day,” I say quietly.

“I thought that might have been the case. It looks like you’ve been crying, is everything okay?”

“No, I’m not okay. He’s doing it to me, lying to me, all over again. I feel like I’ve been hit by a train or at least that one is chasing me down, but now I can’t step off the tracks without setting myself back in school or letting down all the people I care about. I don’t know what else to do… so, I need you to say more things about the victim grooming or the traumatic bonding or whatever other horrible thing has happened to him that make people willing to look past things like this.”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Dr. Flynn suggests.

“He hired someone to spy on me while I was at school,” I tell him, as the tears spring to my eyes again. “He paid this guy named Luke to pretend to be my friend so that he could keep tabs on me. He deliberately put someone in my life without my knowledge to gain my trust and when he didn’t like how his fake friendship was progressing, he took Luke away from me and brought him back here to Seattle. I’ve spent the last five weeks trying to figure out what I did wrong, what I did that made Luke stop talking to me and it turns out he just never cared about me at all. He was never my friend, he was just some guy doing his job.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Anastasia,” He says, reaching over to hand me a box of tissues. “This news must have come as quite the shock.”

“Yeah, it did. So if you could just start with whatever it is that you do that will make me forgive him…” My words trail off.

“Is that why you’re here? You want to forgive him?”

“Well… yeah, I have to. I’m kind of stuck here. I’m his intern. I live in his freaking building… I’m not going to be able to avoid him like I did in Cambridge so I guess I just have to find a way to get over it. That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? You’re his psychiatrist, you’re supposed to make me want to be a part of the team and help him get better.”

“Ana, I’m not Christian’s psychiatrist right now, I’m yours. I’m here to help you.”

“No, Christian’s the one in therapy,” I say defensively. “I’m not in therapy.”

“Well, if you’re not in therapy, then you’ll understand why I’m a little confused to see you on my couch instead of Christian.”

“Well… I-I,” I stutter and then stop, because I don’t have an answer for that.

“Why are you here, Anastasia?” Dr. Flynn asks.

“I told you, he hired someone to follow me around and I mean for years. I’ve known Luke since the beginning of my Sophomore year.”

“I don’t mean why are you in my office, Ana. I mean, why are you here, in Seattle? You’re an intelligent young woman with an impressive academic resume from the most prestigious school in the United States. Surely you had your options when it came to choosing a summer internship. Why is it that you chose to work for Christian?”

“He paid for my tuition last year.”

“So… you feel indebted to him?”

“Sort of… I didn’t ask him to pay for it. I didn’t want him to pay for it. He just did it, and he did it behind my back like he does everything else. So, now I have to try and find a way to repay him. This was kind of my only option.”

“So you took the internship for tuition money?”

“Essentially.”

“Well, I think this situation is very simple then. I don’t see any reason why you have to forgive him.”

“What?”

“If you’re here for tuition money, you don’t need to have a personal relationship with Christian at all. All you need to do is show up to work everyday and do what is required of you until the end of the summer.”

“But he’ll be there too. I can’t see him every day and not talk to him. I can’t be his intern and be mad at him all the time.”

“Why not? Do you always maintain close, personal relationships with your employers?”

“No, but this isn’t just some employer, this is Christian. I’m close to his whole family and we have a history, a long history that’s complicated and… I mean, even if he pisses me off, I still care that he’s getting better, and that he’s working on his relationship with his family, and that he’s getting away from Elena,” I pause but Dr. Flynn just stares impassively at me, almost like he doesn’t believe me, and so I continue, feeling some weird, compulsive need to defend my choices.

“It’s important to Grace and to Elliot that Christian gets help and that he gets to a good place. I want that for them. I care very deeply about them and… I mean, I care about Christian, too. I want it for him, too. He’s my first love and I saw first hand how awful his relationship with Elena was. Just because I’m mad doesn’t mean I want him to be constantly miserable or stuck in this cycle of abuse. He can be a real ass, but he doesn’t deserve that. He’s smart, and hard working, and, when he’s not around the awful bitch troll, he’s caring and generous. I want what’s best for him.”

“So, even though you’re struggling with forgiveness for Christian, you still care about him and want what’s best for him,” He sums up. “Why is that, do you think?”

“Because I love him,” I say too quickly for me to call back the words.

Oh shit.

I look guiltily up at Dr. Flynn who raises an eyebrow at me. “So it’s not just tuition money?” He asks.

“No, it’s not just tuition money,” I admit. “Don’t judge me, okay?”

“Why would I judge you?”

“Because he lied to me, and betrayed me, and hurt me, and I still love him. I mean, what he did to me really screwed me up for what felt like a long time. I should hate him. When I talk about him, it should be in terms of my biggest mistake or regret, but that’s not how I feel. I know that after what happened, after breaking up with him, that that should have been it and I should have moved on, but I just don’t know how to fall out of love with him and it makes me feel weak, and stupid, and hopeless. I wrote a whole book about it and I still can’t move on. I mean, you want to talk about traumatic bonding, well there you go.”

“There is no correct way for you to feel, Anastasia. There are no shoulds, there are only ares. It sounds to me like a lot of what you’re struggling with comes from telling yourself what you’re feeling is wrong, but, nothing you feel is wrong, Ana. You feel what you feel, and that’s okay. You and Christian were in love, deeply in love from what I’ve gathered from speaking with the two of you. I don’t believe that your connection with him is because of traumatic bonding.”

“Really? Because he hurt me and obviously I seem to be ready to line up for more.”

“Well if you think that’s a possibility, we should talk about it. Did Christian ever physically abuse you?”

“No.”

“Was there ever a time when you experienced doubt in him or in your relationship and he tried to turn it around on you or made you feel like you were acting crazy?”

“No.”

“Did he attempt to isolate you from your friends or family?”

“No… I was closer with my mom when I was with him than I’d ever been before and he gave me a new family in the Greys.”

“Did he use lies or try to manipulate you in order to undermine your self-esteem?”

“No, he basically put me on a pedestal.”

“Did he attempt to continuously keep you low on money so that you couldn’t leave him?”

“Obviously not. He’s always been very generous.”

“Did he tell that you he loved you?”

“Everyday.”

“Do you believe he meant it?”

I nod.

“Well, that doesn’t sound like an abusive relationship to me. Quite the contrary. It seems to me that you shared a very healthy, loving bond.”

“But he betrayed me and everyone that he loves. He railroaded his father’s career, he basically broke his mom’s heart, he lied to me over and over again, and now with this Luke thing… there’s only so much one person can take.”

“I think what I’m hearing is that the underlying issue here is trust. Is that correct?”

“Exactly. I mean, I want to be here. I want to help him and I want to be in his life, but what if I let him back in and he hurts me all over again? After today, it seems less like a possibility and more like an inevitability. I can’t go through this again. It’ll break me this time.”

“He made a poor decision, Anastasia,” Dr. Flynn says. “Not just with the trial but with this Luke person too, and he can be regretful and apologetic but he can’t erase what he did. What you do with what has happened is up to you. I don’t believe he’s being malicious in his actions. As hard as it is to see, I do believe that his intentions are good, his execution is just poor. Now, I may have more insight into his state of mind than you do because it seems to me that, rather than talking through your issues with Christian, your instinct is to run away when you get scared. You’re protecting yourself, and that’s a completely understandable reaction, but this hurt isn’t just going to go away. You either need to deal with it or let it go. Do you want him out of your life again?”

“No… but that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be pissed off that he hired somebody to follow me around without my knowledge. I can be pissed off that he paid someone to be my friend and got me to confide in him as some kind of twisted way to stay in my life when I was very clear that I didn’t want to have anything to do with him.”

“Of course you can. You’re entitled to a reasonable amount of privacy and he violated your trust. We’ve already discovered that trust is an issue with you. Frankly I feel like anger is a completely natural reaction to the situation.”

“Then why do I feel like this? Why can’t I just let him go?”

“What do you think?” Dr. Flynn asks.

I stare back into his piercing blue eyes that feel as though they can see right through me. Just his stare is like a battering ram, forcing it’s way through the walls I’ve built around my feelings for Christian, until I’m forced to admit what I’ve refused to allow myself to think over the last two years.

“Because I don’t want to,” I say quietly.

“Then what do you want?”

“Right now, I want to get over this Luke thing so that I can go to work tomorrow without humiliating myself again by screaming at the company’s CEO.”

“Then what?” He asks, and I look back at him confused.

“What you mean? Isn’t that enough for now?”

“You’re thinking day to day, Anastasia. I assume that’s because limited, short-term planning was the coping mechanism you used after all this trauma, but I want to know your end goal. What does moving past all of this look like for you? When you imagine yourself in a happy, healthy state of mind and well-being, what do you see?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I think to even be able to imagine that place I’d have to deal with everything that’s happened. I know it’s necessary, but I just don’t want to and I don’t know why.”

“Because it’s hard.”

“But I still want to help. I think that I’m the only one that can. I just don’t know how I can help him if I don’t trust him.”

“Ana, if you’re not ready to give him a chance to prove to you that he wants to change, then you won’t be any help to him. I can hear how hesitant you are to open this door and I can sense how difficult it will be for you to trust him again. That might not go away, and if you feel like his betrayal is too much for you to forgive, that’s okay. It is not your responsibility to save him or try and make him better. He has a family that loves him very much and wants to help him, you can leave this to them. This is your choice, but if you don’t want to try, you need to let him go because this game you’re playing with yourself where you are pining over him one minute and hating him the next will be extremely damaging… to both of you.”

“But… I don’t understand. That’s almost exactly the opposite of what you said to me last night. You said that my role in Christian’s recovery was important.”

“And I think it is, but only if you’re all in, and from what I’ve gathered from this conversation, you might not be. It’s not my job to push you into this. That has to be your decision, Anastasia, and no one else can make it for you.”

“So what do I do then?” I ask, but he shakes his head.

“What do you want, Anastasia?” He asks.

What do I want? Well, if I’m being honest with myself, what I want is to get back what I had before all of this ever happened. That’s the Christian I miss. That’s the Christian I love and the Christian I can’t let go. But that’s just not possible…

“What are you thinking about, Ana?” Dr. Flynn asks after what feels like several minutes of silence.

“That what I want is to go back to before the trial and to just spend one more minute with the Christian who made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Who could make everything else around us disappear with just the way he looked at me. To the Christian who changed who I am as a person because he loved me so deeply that it opened my eyes to what love really was. But that’s unrealistic. He’s changed now.”

“He’s still there, Ana,” Dr. Flynn says quietly. “Deep down, past all the of the anger and all of the hurt, he’s still there.”

“So, how do I get him back?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, that’s what I want.”

“Well, then we’ll start by working through some of your trust issues and try to get you to the place where you can accept that he’s still the person you used to love, even though he hurt you. We need to figure out what it’s going to take for you to forgive him. You’re hanging onto a lot of pain. We need to find what it’s going to take for you to be able to let go.”

“I just need to know that he’s sorry and that Elena Lincoln is unequivocally out of his life, for good,” I tell him.

“No, that’s what he needs to do, Ana, and while that’s important and you won’t be able to move on without his participation in this process, that’s not what it’s going to take for you to heal.”

“I don’t understand what that means,” I admit.

“Well then, I think we should start by setting up a few standing appointments for us to explore this more together. I’d like to see you a few times a week, even if it’s just to check in to make sure that you’re handling everything alright. In the meantime, I think it’s important for you to establish boundaries between you and Christian and for you to be very clear with him about what those boundaries are until he makes the necessary progress for you to feel comfortable increasing the level of intimacy in your relationship. You two have to start communicating if you’re going to move past this together and since it seems to be very hard for you to keep a dialogue going when the conversation moves into painful territory, I think establishing those boundaries will make this easier for you.”

“What do you mean by boundaries?”

“Limitations or rules about how you two interact with each other, especially physically.”

“Physically? You mean, like… no sex?”

He laughs. “No, I don’t think you should have sex, but I’m thinking even smaller than that. No physical contact at all, no matter how innocent it may seem. When you spend time together, it should be pre-planned and it should be casual. Keep your relationship light and fun… friendly. You should talk about your feelings and your concerns with him and I would challenge you to not only listen to him, but to really hear what he has to say. I don’t want you to fight with him unless it’s constructive. Honestly, I’d love to have a joint session with the two of you, if you are willing, so that you can both express yourselves in a safe, productive environment.”

“I can do that.”

“Excellent, then I will discuss that with Christian in our next session together and see if we can’t work something out.”

“Okay.”

“Then I’ll have you go work out our schedule with Clara, my receptionist, and we’ll get to work.”

“But what about Luke?” I ask.

“What about him?”

“I’m still mad.”

“Well of course you are, you haven’t had any kind of resolution. We can talk about it in your next session and try to work through that anger, but there is no quick fix for me to give you.”

“But I have to see Christian at work tomorrow.”

“Then maybe you should talk to him,” Dr. Flynn suggests. “This sounds like an excellent opportunity for you to share your feelings with him and explain how his actions have hurt you.”

“But… but…” I stutter, but, again, Dr. Flynn just stares impassively back at me and I let out a huff of irritation. “Fine, but don’t be surprised if he misses his next session because I’ve literally ripped his head off.”

“As long as you feel that’s constructive,” Dr. Flynn says. I roll my eyes at him and storm back towards the waiting area.

“See you in a few days, Ana,” Dr. Flynn calls out as the door closes behind me. I approach the desk and wait patiently as Clara looks through Dr. Flynn’s schedule for openings. She gives me a calendar with my appointments marked on them and I leave the office feeling flustered.

That didn’t help at all.

Well, except that I know what I want now. And there’s a plan… sort of.

I grit my teeth together. Dr. Flynn did warn me that none of this would be easy, I just didn’t realize it would get this difficult this fast. Really, I have to stop avoiding the confrontation. He’s right and the real reason we’re stuck in this place is because I’ve refused to deal with the issue. If I really do want to get back to what I had with Christian, and I do, then I’m going to have to do my part and talk to him, no matter how bad it hurts.

I groan as I realize that, despite my best efforts, therapy seems to be working.

The sun is sinking low in the sky as I make my way down the street back towards my apartment. Thankfully, Dr. Flynn’s office is just around the corner from Escala so it’s not too far to walk, and I use the few blocks I have to travel to rehearse what I want to say to Christian tomorrow. I guess this whole “boundaries at work” thing is going to have to be delayed until after the Luke issue gets resolved and, as I try and force myself to accept that, I kick a pebble on the sidewalk as a way of expressing my dissatisfaction. I already feel like I embarrassed myself in front of the entire eighth floor today and I don’t think starting drama with Christian at work is going to make working alongside Andrea and Leila for the summer any easier.

When I get back to Escala, I walk into the elevator with the intention of going straight to bed once I get upstairs, but then I hesitate when my eyes fall on the button for the penthouse. I purse my lips together while I war with this new decision. I know what I need to do and this could be my chance to avoid having this discussion at work. Dr. Flynn told me to set boundaries between Christian and I, and I know that’s necessary but, technically, I already told Christian I’d come over tonight… Surely, that means I’m not breaking the rules.

Satisfied with my justification, I pull out my cell phone and dial Elliot’s number but it goes to voicemail so I try Kate.

“Hey, Ana,” She answers. “Elliot told me what happened with Luke, are you okay?”

“Not yet,” I tell her. “Do you know the elevator code to get into Christian’s apartment?”

“You’re going to Christian’s apartment?”

“Yeah, I think it’s better to talk about this now rather than at work tomorrow, but I don’t have the code.”

“You’re going to talk to him?” She asks, surprised.

“Apparently,” I reply.

“Oh. Well the code is 091088,” She recites.

My birthday.

“Thanks, Kate,” I tell her.

“Sure. Call me if you need anything, even if it’s late. I’m here, Ana. Let me know how it goes.”

“I will, thank you. Love you, Kate.”

“You too. Good luck!”

I hang up the phone and then reach forward and press the “PH” button. Again, I hear the robotic voice come through the speaker in the wall.

“Please enter your passcode.”

There is a small number keypad next to the speaker and so I reach out and diligently press 0-9-1-0-8-8, and the moment I enter the last number, the elevator hums to life and I’m whisked up to the 30th floor.

It’s slightly disorienting when the elevator arrives because I discover there isn’t a hallway or even a front door. When the elevator doors slide open, it’s directly into Christian’s apartment and I feel a little guilty. If I’d known the elevator would just let me off into Christian’s entryway, I would have called him for the code. I thought I’d at least get to knock on a door…

I step forward into a high ceilinged foyer and I’m immediately overcome with a strange sense of unease. Kate wasn’t exaggerating about Christian’s apartment. I can see into the living room from where I’m standing and, even from here, I can tell how spacious it is. I can see part of the amazing view of Seattle, but, like his office at GEH, everything that I can see is completely barren. If I didn’t know for certain that Christian lived here, I’d swear the apartment was unoccupied.

I take a tentative step forward but before I even make it out of the entrance hall, I hear footsteps echoing through the vacant apartment and a man in a sharp, black suit, who I vaguely recognize as the same man who I saw get out of the car through my kitchen window in Cambridge, comes around the corner.

“Miss Steele?” He asks with surprise, though perhaps not as much as the surprise I feel that he knows who I am. We’ve never even been introduced…

“Yes, uh, Taylor, right?” I reply.

“Yes ma’am. Can I help you?”

“Is Christian here?”

“He’s in his study,” Taylor says, and he turns around and leads me through the living room, down a side hallway, and then knocks gently on a closed door.

“What!” I hear Christian snap angrily, and Taylor turns the knob and eases the door open enough for him to stick his head inside.

“I’m sorry for the interruption, Mr. Grey, but Miss Steele is here to see you.”

“What?” Christian says again, although this time his voice is shocked rather than angry. “Let her in.”

Taylor opens the door the rest of the way, stepping aside for me to pass, and I walk into the office to find Christian sitting with Elliot in the two chairs placed directly in front of his desk.

“Ana?” Christian asks, as if he doesn’t really believe I’m here.

“Hi, Christian. Can we talk?” I ask.

“Yes, of course. I’d love that,” He says quickly, and then he turns to look at Elliot, who quickly vacates his seat and hurries across the room.

“You okay, Ana?” Elliot asks, placing himself in between Christian and I, but when I nod, he grips my shoulder affectionately and then disappears through the door with Taylor. Christian and I stare at each other for a minute and I realize that he’s waiting for me to speak first.

“I’m not fired, right?” I ask as I begin walking forward to take Elliot’s seat.

“Fired?”

“For leaving work.”

“You mean, you want to come back?” He asks, hopefully.

“If I still have a job.”

“Of course you still have a job,” He says. “Ana, I’m so sorry. I fucked up with this whole Sawyer situation, I know that, and I’m sorry.”

“I just don’t understand… How could you possibly think this was a good idea? I mean, seriously, what were you thinking?”

“I told you, I just couldn’t stop worrying. I was obsessing over it. Six people died in Grays our first year, you were attacked in your own dorm room. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I was terrified something might happen to you and I wouldn’t be there to stop it. I hired Sawyer to keep you safe. I never intended for him to be apart of your life. He was supposed to be invisible, but you caught him watching you one night when he was following you back to your car from the library, so he made up a lie about being campus security and you believed him. I didn’t tell him to lie to you but… when he did, I didn’t bring him back either, and I should have. I’m sorry. I thought it was a good enough story to keep him there so that he could protect you and that’s all I cared about. I never intended for you two become friends. You’re just too charming for your own damn good.”

“So because I believed the lie, you think that’s an excuse to try and control my life?” I ask as I narrow my eyes at him.

“No, I didn’t. I wasn’t. He was just there to look out for you. I wasn’t using him to control you. I hardly ever even talked to him, Taylor was his contact.”

“Really? Then how do you explain Carter Reed?” I ask. “That night when Kate and Elliot were at your mom’s birthday dinner, Carter was studying at my house, and you called, and he answered the phone, and then Luke showed up a little while later and chased him out. You really expect me to believe that was a coincidence?”

He pauses and then sighs.

“I panicked,” He admits. “I hadn’t had to face the idea of you moving on with someone else yet and when I did, and when it was that fucking douchebag, Reed…  I panicked. I did call him that night, and I did ask him to find out what was going on at the house, but I promise that wasn’t the norm. Very little rational thought went into my phone call to Sawyer that night.”

“First off, there’s nothing going on between Carter and I. He’s just my friend, but even if he wasn’t and I really was trying to have that kind of relationship with him, that’s none of your business. You don’t get to dictate who I have in my life, especially since you’re still involved with…”

I stop myself from saying her name and take a deep breath. This is going to be more difficult than I thought.

“You can say it, Ana,” Christian says, but I shake my head.

“Why did you bring him back here?” I ask. “I didn’t know he was working for you, his cover was fine. You knew we were friends, why did you make him leave?”

“Because he forgot what his job was,” Christian says.

“What?”

“He knew I was coming into town that weekend you went off with him to Vermont. I know Taylor made my expectations of him very clear for that weekend, and not only did he completely disregard his orders by taking you out of town and stealing the first chance I had to see you since you left me, but then he took you up a fucking mountain with absolutely no regard for your personal safety. I hired him as a CPO and clearly he was unable to adequately fill that role. You should have never been able to talk him into something that reckless.”

“Christian, he didn’t take me out of town. I was going to go with or without him, and since Kate and Elliot had to stay behind with you, either he was going to go with me, or I was going to do it alone. I had no intention of seeing you that weekend, he didn’t take that away from you. Besides, he didn’t even know what we were doing that weekend. The mountain climbing was my idea and I kept it a secret from him because I knew that if I told him beforehand, he’d try and talk me out of it, or try and stop me. I was going up that mountain because it was something I needed to do. You can’t say he forgot what his job was because going up that mountain with me was his job. He was just making sure I was safe.”

“Do you know how incredibly stupid that was, Anastasia?” Christian asks in a low voice. “You don’t know the first thing about mountain climbing. You took no safety precautions… You could have been seriously injured, or killed. Do you know what that would have done to me? Do you know what that would have done to Kate or Elliot or… your dad?”

I flinch. “I wasn’t really thinking about that at the time.”

“Obviously.”

“Don’t try and change the subject, Christian. This isn’t about the mountain, this is about Luke. This really hurt me. He was my best friend, he felt like family and you know, with Ray gone, that’s something that I’ve missed. Do you know how much time I’ve spent over the past few weeks trying to figure out what I did to make Luke want nothing to do with me? I thought that because I’d made him lose his job, that he hated me and he would never speak to me again, and that killed me because I really believed he was my friend.”

“That’s my fault, too,” He says, dejectedly. “He put up a fight for you, Ana. He did everything he could to stay in Cambridge, but I wouldn’t listen. When he got back, I was so angry about the whole situation that I told him if he contacted you again, he’d lose his job. In fact, if Taylor hadn’t stepped in, he wouldn’t have been transferred, he would have been unemployed. I issued him a new company phone so he wouldn’t have your number and so that you couldn’t contact him. He didn’t abandon you, he doesn’t hate you. Your friendship was real, not something I forced him into to keep tabs on you.”

“You forbid him from talking to me?” I ask in a low breath.

“I’m sorry, Ana. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It seems like everything I do to try and keep you safe or make you happy ends up just hurting you and that’s not my intention. You deserve so much and I want to give it to you, but somehow I always seem to fuck it up. I know you’re pissed at me and you should be. This is my fault and I own that. If I could change it, I would. If I could do it over, I would tell you upfront, try to explain, even if I had to do it through, Elliot. The way I handled this was stupid and it was selfish. I can see that now and I’m really sorry.”

“The lies have to stop, Christian,” I tell him. “Seriously, no more lies, no more secrets.”

“No. No more secrets,” He agrees.

I take a deep, cathartic breath and exhale loudly. “Then since you were honest with me and I do believe that you’re sorry, I accept your apology and we can try to start over.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I tell him, and I’m surprised by the amount of relief I feel. It’s like all the tension in the room has evaporated and once again, in the absence of anger, there is a sense of comfortable familiarity between Christian and I.

“I’m sorry I called you a psychopath,” I tell him. “I was angry and it just kind of came out. I can understand why you were concerned and you didn’t deserve to have me say that to you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Ana,” He replies and, slowly, a small smile crosses his lips. “It’s actually not the first time someone has called me that. Perhaps it’s something I should discuss with Flynn.”

“Oh, Flynn…” I sigh, and then I look back up at Christian, because there’s something that has been nagging at me. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What?”

“You could have just fired Luke once I accepted the internship and I wouldn’t have ever found out what you did, but you didn’t.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Okay, why didn’t you?”

“He’s a good employee,” Christian shrugs, but I raise an eyebrow at him and he exhales sharply. “I didn’t fire him because… he’s your friend and I love you. I didn’t fire him because I didn’t think you’d forgive me if I did. I knew that if I didn’t tell you, somehow, you’d find out eventually and there would be no coming back from that. I don’t want to lie to you anymore. I don’t want to keep secrets from you. I want us to move past this because more than anything else in the world, I just want you.”

I feel my blood heat at his confession because, for the briefest moment, I see just a glimmer of the Christian I used to know. Maybe Flynn is right, that Christian is in there somewhere and even after everything that’s happened, I still feel a rush of joy hearing those words come out of his mouth.

“Have you forgotten?” He asks, quietly. “Don’t you remember what we had, what it was like before all this shit happened?” His gaze is intense, baring into me, and it makes my skin tingle. I bite down on my lip, trying to stay coherent as all the memories I indeed have not forgotten come to my mind. As he stares at me, waiting for my response, he drags his index finger across his bottom lip and I shudder slightly. The memories of his mouth are especially vibrant…

Stop it, Ana. Boundaries.

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” I tell him. “But I’m not ready for that kind of relationship between us, Christian. There’s still just so much left unresolved. I can’t even think about any of that unless I feel like I can trust you again.”

He nods and then it’s quiet between us. I glance around his office, looking for something to distract me from my wayward thoughts, but there’s nothing.

“Why are you living like this, Christian?”

“Like what?” He asks.

“Like this,” I say, gesturing to the walls around us. “With no furniture or anything on the walls. Why is your apartment so empty? And don’t tell me it’s because you can’t afford to furnish it, because I won’t believe you.”

He laughs and then glances around the office. “I don’t know,” He says after a brief pause. “I just haven’t really noticed.”

“I don’t think that’s true. You furnished my apartment, after all. I know you’re a busy guy, but there are people you can hire to decorate for you.”

“I just don’t see the point,” He says. “I’m the only one that’s ever here and I have a place to work, a place to sleep, and a piano. What else do I need?”

“How about a place to sit or a place to eat?” I suggest. “Seriously, this kind of freaks me out. It feels like we’re squatting or something and the real apartment owners are about to bust in any second and have us arrested.”

He laughs again. “Well, fortunately, I’ve made several large donations to the Seattle Police Department. I think they’d go easy on us.”

“Oh nothing warms the heart like good old fashion police corruption,” I say with a giggle, and he smiles at me, a genuine, warm smile that reminds me just how beautiful he is, and again, just like in his office, and I feel the tingle again.

Don’t look at his mouth. I warn myself.

“Are you hungry?” He asks. “I could have Mrs. Jones make us something for dinner.”

“Mrs. Jones?”

“My housekeeper.”

I roll my eyes. “So you can’t remember to furnish an apartment, but you can remember to hire someone to clean it?”

“Furniture doesn’t feed me,” He says, standing up and holding his hand out for me. “Come. Let’s get something to eat.”

“Do you have forks?” I ask sardonically, purposefully avoiding his hand as I get to my feet. Dr. Flynn said no touching.

He frowns at my aversion, but continues with his easy tone. “Plates too, if you’d believe it.”

“So you do live here?” I ask with a laugh, and he shakes his head with exasperation before leading me out to the kitchen.

Mrs. Jones is an attractive woman, probably in her early forties, who seems to be so excited for the chance to cook for more than just one person that she shows off a little. While she busies herself about the kitchen, Christian turns to look sheepishly at me.

“When I asked you to dinner earlier, I’d planned to have someone set up a table for us. After you stormed out of my office this afternoon, I didn’t expect to see you tonight so I never made the arrangements.”

“So… a picnic then?” I suggest, optimistically. His expression is dubious, so I take the place mats and the dishes Mrs. Jones has laid out on the counter and place them on the floor in the living room next to his piano. He smiles a charming, boyish grin, and disappears into the kitchen for a bottle of wine.

Mrs. Jones’ Thai peanut and chicken pasta is delicious, especially since I haven’t had anything since the salad I hardly picked at over eight hours ago, and Christian and I enjoy the meal and the crisp white wine together while we reminisce over memories from our freshman year. I think I’d forgotten how easy it is to talk to him, how much I love to hear him laugh and see him smile.

“I think you’re over exaggerating,” Christian says as he pours me another glass of wine.

“I am not, you were grumpy all the time!” I say defensively.

“Only because you seemed to be a magnet for every horny asshole on campus looking to find their way into some girl’s panties.”

“Like you?” I ask.

“Hey, I may be an asshole, but at least I was suave about it.”

Suave?” I repeat, not hiding my laugh at his choice of word.

“Oh yeah. I charmed the pants of you… literally,” He says, and his eyes glimmer wickedly.

I laugh again. “Still, you had your moments. Do you remember that time when you got mad at me for like three days just because I had a class with Astor Harrington?”

“Don’t go re-writing history, Anastasia. You didn’t just have a class with him, you were with him every time I saw you on campus,” He says, and his expression sours. I wonder if that’s because he’s just remembered the reason why Astor was around me all the time…

“It wasn’t all the time,” I say, circumventing the Elena topic, yet again, before he can bring it up. “You just overreacted. Remember when I told you I was thinking about going back to Georgia for the summer and you dragged me into the bathroom on the airplane to argue with me about it? Typical Christian overreaction.”

“If I remember correctly, that argument ended very well for both of us,” He says with a smirk. “Besides, if I was prone to overreaction it was only because I was usually irritated by Ros being such a constant pain in my ass. Not that that’s changed…”

“Ros!” I shriek. “I didn’t get to see her today!”

“Well, you should see her tomorrow,” He says. “She works about twenty feet away from your desk. She has a new intern this summer too”

“Oh I know,” I say, rolling my eyes as I take another sip of wine.

“Do you?” He asks, his curiosity peaked.

“Yeah, he was in orientation with me. I didn’t talk to him much but he really comes off as a sexist prick.”

“Really?” Christian ask and then laughs so hard his head tilts back a little. “Well, that’ll be a fun summer project for Ros. I can’t wait to see what happens the first time he says something to piss her off.”

“That was what I thought,” I say. “Poor guy.”

I turn to place my wine glass back on the floor and as I do, my hair shifts over my shoulder and falls into my face. Christian reaches up and brushes his fingers against my face to capture the loose strand and then tucks it behind my ear. I freeze as the contact sends a shiver down my back. I look over and see something dark and tantalizing in his gaze that immediately sends a wave of heat over my skin.

“Uh…” I say awkwardly. “Speaking of work, I should, um… I should probably go.”

“Go?” He asks.

“Yeah, we’ve both got an early morning.”

“I think you should stay,” He says in a low voice that is almost a whisper.

“No, I shouldn’t,” I reply.

“Why?”

“You know why,” I reply, and he takes a deep, resigned breath and then gets to his feet, reaching out his hands to help me up. I shake my head and get to my feet on my own.

“Why do you keep doing that?” He asks.

“I uh… I saw Dr. Flynn tonight. He thinks that if we’re going to try and work this out, we need to have boundaries and one of those boundaries is that we can’t touch each other.”

“Flynn said that?” Christian asks irritably.

“Yeah, he said that if we’re going to hang out it needs to be pre-planned and casual. We have to keep this platonic for as long it takes for us to work out our issues.”

“I’m not entirely sure I agree with his recommendation,” Christian says.

“Well, I do. Boundaries are important for me right now,” I tell him. He gives me a pained look and then sighs.

“Fine,” He agrees, and then gestures for me to walk ahead of him towards the foyer.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks when I push the elevator call button, and it’s hard to ignore the uncertainty in his voice.

“Bright and early, Mr. Grey,,” I tell him.

“Good. I look forward to it, Miss Steele,” He says as the elevator pings and the doors slide open. I look up at him once more and in the moment when our eyes lock… I feel it. It’s like a charge of electricity or a magnetic pull between us. He looks down at me, his eyes focused on my lips, like he’s going to lean down to kiss me, and for a brief moment, against my better judgement, I want him to. I’m nearly lost, feeling warm and flushed, and I don’t know if it’s the wine or the way he’s looking at me.

New rule, no alcohol around Christian.

“Goodnight, Christian,” I whisper as I come to my senses and step into the elevator. I reach out and press the button for the 14th floor and then give him a small smile until the doors close and the elevator begins to descend.

When I get back to my apartment, I dump my bag onto the table in the entryway and head straight back to my bedroom. It’s only 8:30 but I think I’m just going to go straight to bed. Today has been long and emotionally draining and I’m just ready for it to be over.

And it’s only day one. I think to myself as I crawl into the bed and immediately close my eyes. The last thing I’m aware of before I drift off to sleep is the image of Christian standing in front of me as I got ready to head back downstairs, only when conscious thought ends and dreams take over, I don’t get on the elevator.

Next Chapter

 

Chapter 08

Image result for Grey Enterprises Holdings

It’s early when I wake up Monday morning, but I’m too anxious about work to feel tired. I’m going to see Christian today, and I’m very conscious of that fact as I get ready. I condition my hair twice and am absolutely meticulous when shaving my legs in the shower. When I’m finished, I spend a great deal of time blowing my hair out and carefully applying my makeup. I’ve decided on a pair of beige colored skinny trousers and a flowy, navy blouse with white polka-dots to wear today, but as I stand in front of the mirror, I wonder if it’s too casual. I haven’t been to GEH before and I’m not sure how people dress there, but I have a feeling it might be a strictly suit and tie kind of place.

Before I get the chance to decide whether or not I want to change into the black pencil skirt and blazer that was included in what Kate brought over for me last night, there is a knock on my apartment door. It’s Elliot, here to pick me up on his way into the office. It’s his first day too and he has an early meeting with Christian, as well as the architect, contractors, and project manager at Grey Construction.

“Good Morning!” Elliot says when I open the door. “You ready?” He’s dressed in a navy suit with a crisp white shirt and deep blue tie and it makes me think I really should change.

“Uh… I don’t know. Do you think I look okay?” I ask.

“You look fine,” He says, “We’ve got to go or we’re going to be late.”

“I think I should change first.”

“We don’t have time. You look fine, Ana. Seriously.”

“Okay…” I say hesitantly, and then pick up my purse and the manila envelope with my internship information in it off the table by the door. I double check my make up one last time in the mirror and then follow Elliot into the hallway and down the elevator. We have to walk up the long walkway towards the back of the garage since Elliot has parked in one of Christian’s parking spaces, and as I climb into the front cab of his truck, which is difficult as it’s several feet off the ground and I’m in heels, I notice that the black SUV that was parked next to the Maybach is missing, and I wonder if that means Christian has already left for work.

There is a new car there, though. A new looking white Audi that doesn’t seem like something I would picture Christian driving, and I eye it suspiciously.

“Who’s car is that?” I ask.

“Uh, I think that’s Gail’s car,” He answers, looking over his shoulder to back out of the space.

“Who’s Gail?”

“She works for him.”

“Oh,” I reply. Well at least I know it’s not Elena, although I realize now it was kind of stupid to make that assumption. If it was Elena’s car, Elliot would be upstairs handling it, rather than here in the car with me.

“You nervous?” Elliot asks as we pull onto Virginia St. and immediately take a right on 5th Ave towards downtown.

“A little,” I reply honestly. “I’ve wondered what it would be like to see him again for two years now and it’s kind of turned into this momentous thing, you know?”

“Well if it makes you feel better, I know he’s nervous too.”

“Yeah, well he’s my boss now so that kind of gives him the upper hand.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Elliot replies.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say you look very nice today,” He says, but even though I continue to stare at him expectantly, he doesn’t elaborate any further.

It’s a fairly short drive, only about eight blocks through downtown, to GEH, which is good as I think there will probably be a few days when I’ll have to walk to work. As we circle around the building for the parking garage, I find myself underwhelmed. I suppose I’d probably built the company up a little too much in my head because when I see the eight story, standard concrete structure punctuated by lines of uniform squares of windows, rather than some colossal, architectural marvel stretching so high into the sky it seems to disappear into the clouds, I’m a little disappointed. Just compared to Escala, this building is entirely ordinary, not a place I would imagine houses one of the most powerful companies in Seattle. But I suppose that’s why Elliot is here.

We pull into the garage and into the first available place we can find. There are a number of really expensive looking cars parked in the rows leading up to the elevator, but the only one I really focus on is the black SUV that was missing from Escala in the space at the front marked Reserved.

I take a deep breath when I hear the electronic chime that announces the elevator’s arrival and then nervously step through the doors. Elliot presses the button for our respective floors, the doors close, and we make the short journey up to the lobby where I’ll be getting off.

“Good luck, Ana,” Elliot says, waving after me as I step out onto the main floor. I smile back at him and when the elevator doors close again, I turn around to take in my surroundings. The interior of the building is much more contemporary than the drab exterior would suggest. The floor is composed of large stone tiles that are so clean and shiny, I can make out my muted reflection in them. The walls around me are painted a soft graphite color and in front of the giant windows at the front of the building, which flood the entire lobby with bright rays of sunlight, there are a several modern looking, white leather chairs and a few tables made out of shiny metal. Directly across from me, is a long desk made of the same material as the floor with the word “GREY” mounted on the wall behind it in large, bold letters and the additional “Enterprises Holdings INC” written below. Seated at the desk is a pretty blonde woman in a well-tailored black dress, who gestures for the man to whom she’s speaking to take a seat in one of the leather chairs.

I cross the lobby with quick, purposeful strides that I hope exude confidence, and approach the desk.

“Good morning, and welcome to Grey House,” The woman at the desk greets me. “How may help you?”

“Good morning, my name is Anastasia Steele, I’m starting my internship today.”

“Oh, welcome to GEH Miss Steele,” The woman says with a smile. She picks up an iPad off her desk and touches the screen a few times before turning and smiling at me again. “You’re all checked in. If you’ll just have a seat in the waiting area, our HR director will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, and then turn around to take a seat next to the man who spoke with the receptionist right before me. He looks about the same age as I am, as are the other three people sitting with us, another guy and two girls, so I assume they’re all new interns too. We all exchange nervous, awkward glances with one another until our attention is drawn by the loud clacking of heels against the tile floor and another blonde woman, who’s dressed in a charcoal gray suit and black silk blouse, approaches, looking at all of us with a wide smile.

“Good Morning! My name is Michelle Menke and I am the HR Director here at Grey Enterprises Holdings. If you’ll all follow me, we’ll head back to the conference room and begin your orientation.”

I get up and follow the others past the elevators to a fairly large meeting room with a long wooden table and several, black leather office chairs in the center. We each take a seat and then turn our attention to Ms. Menke.

“Welcome!” She says brightly. “I’d like to begin by offering my congratulations to each and every one of you. Out of the over 200 applications GEH received for the summer internship program, you were all identified as our top five candidates. This internship program is highly competitive and it is Mr. Grey’s hope that you leave GEH at the end of the summer with a plethora of experience that prepares you for life after graduation. Now, we’ll be together until about lunch time and then I’ll release you for training in your new departments, but first I think we should all get the chance to get to know one another. I’d like for each of you to share with the group, your name, where you’re from, what school you attend, and what department you’ll be working in for the summer.”

She looks expectantly at the red haired girl sitting across the table from me who stutters for a moment before introducing herself.

“Uh… my name is Tabitha Brooks. I’m a finance student at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, I’m originally from Grand Rapids, Michigan, and I will be spending the summer working in the accounting department.”

Tabitha turns to look at the guy seated to her right, who speaks with an almost arrogant confidence. “Hello, my name is Brian Clark, I am from Portland, Oregon, I’m studying business at USC, and I’ll be interning with the acquisitions division.”

“Oh, then you’ll actually get the chance to work fairly closely with Mr. Grey and Ms. Bailey,” Ms. Menke says.

“Yes, I am really looking forward to getting the chance to work and learn directly from Mr. Grey. He is one of the people I look up to most in this world, and I’ve had the opportunity already to speak with Ms. Bailey. She seems like a… competent woman.”

I raise an eyebrow at him as his sentence trails off. The way he describes Ros as “competent” leaves the impression that he very rarely uses that term to describe women and I almost want to laugh when I think about what Ros will do with that kind of attitude. This poor guy has no idea what is waiting for him.

“My name is Daniel Warren,” The next guy begins. “And I am from St. Louis, Missouri. I am studying Information Technology and Development at MIT and I will be working with the Fiber Optics and Technology Development department this summer.”

“Hi, I’m Suzannah Evans and I am from New Haven, Connecticut. I attend the University of Pennsylvania, where I study marketing and that is the department I will be working in this summer.”

Everyone’s eyes turn to me and I take a breath before I begin. “My name is Anastasia Steele, I’m from Montesano, Washington, and I am studying English at Harvard University.”

“Oh, Mr. Grey graduated from Harvard!” Ms. Menke says excitedly.

“He didn’t graduate,” I correct her, but then immediately regret it when her eyes, and the eyes of everyone in the room, widen with shock, as if daring to impugn the educational pedigree of the CEO is horrendous crime.

“Well, while I suppose that’s true…” Ms. Menke responds in a careful voice. “Mr. Grey is an exceptionally intelligent man who I’m sure was an excellent student.”

“Oh… yeah. I mean, he’s brilliant, obviously,” I correct myself quickly, feeling my face flush with heat. Ms. Menke, gives me a tight lipped smile and then looks as though she’s going to move on, for which I’m grateful, but Suzannah stops her.

“You didn’t say what department you’re interning for,” She says.

“Oh, I uh… I’m actually here for a special project. I’ll be working in Mr. Grey’s office.”

“Like an assistant?” Brian assumes, and I glare at him.

“No, I’m here to help him with a new expansion he has planned,” I say, and he rolls his eyes like he doesn’t believe me. I look back at him, shocked by his audacity. If this guy is seriously going to be working with me in Christian’s office, there’s going to be a problem.

After introductions, we begin the long, arduous process of filling out paperwork. The amount of legal documents I have to sign for what is supposed to be a standard summer internship is astounding. There are the typical I-9 and W-4 forms to fill out but we’re also given paperwork to sign, which informs us that the company holds the right to conduct regular background checks and random drug tests. We have to sign a consent for video surveillance, union membership disclosure, social media agreement…

“What is this?” I ask as I skim through a document that is so full of legal jargon it’s difficult to understand.

“It’s a non-disclosure agreement,” Ms. Menke replies. “Basically it states that you will not share any information regarding management to the press or divulge policies, trade secrets, confidential material, or any information regarding your position or the company in general to industry competitors.”

“What do you mean by industry competitor?” I ask, and she raises an eyebrow at me.

“Why are you asking? Do you feel you’ll have a problem adhering to the guidelines of the NDA?” She asks.

“Well, industry competitor is broad term. GEH owns a telecommunications company and my best friend is interning for Kavanagh Media. If I talk to her about my work day am I going to be in breach of contract?”

“Of course not, Miss Steele. It’s simply a way for the company to protect its innovative practices, which have led to unprecedented success, from making it into the hands of our direct competitors,” She says. “You have to sign it. I can’t pass you along to your department without it.”

I roll my eyes and sigh as I scribble my name onto the signature line and hand Ms. Menke my completed packet of paperwork. Once we’re all finished filling out the forms, she gives us a short presentation on the brief, although “vastly impressive” history of GEH, and on the different departments in the company, what they do and where they’re located in the building, or in some cases where they’re located in the city as several divisions were unable to be housed in this building due to space limitations. When that’s finished, a man named Matthew Ryan from the GEH security office takes our finger prints and pictures for our security badges, and then gives us a rundown of the security procedures that have to be adhered to by all GEH employees. We end with Ms. Menke discussing employee conduct including the rules for dress code (leaving me with the impression that I was right to think I should’ve changed this morning), telephone and computer usage, lunch and break times, attendance, and email etiquette.

Finally, just before noon, Mr. Ryan returns with our official GEH security badges and we’re released for lunch with the instruction to report to our respective departments in 30 minutes. I head to the deli across the street and buy a small salad and a Diet Coke, which I only eat half of as I’m in a rush to make sure I make it back to work on time. As I walk through the glass doors and back into the lobby, my heart begins pounding.

This is it.

Once I’m in the elevator, I reach out to press the button for Christian’s floor, and then concentrate on my breathing as the doors close. As I stare anxiously up at the numbers climbing higher and higher over the doors, I begin to hear the rippling sound of the papers in my hands and I realize it’s because I’m shaking. There is a loud ping announcing my arrival to the eighth floor and I do my best to push aside the nerves and stand tall and confident as the doors slide open.

Just outside the elevator is a small room that is aesthetically identical to the reception area on the main level. In front of me, I see a set of double doors with the standard GREY logo frosted onto the glass on each side. There is a small black pad to the left of the door with a red light in the top left corner, which I assume is where I’m supposed to swipe the security badge to gain access, but when I press my badge against the pad, nothing happens. I try again three more times but still, the light remains red. I reach out and tentatively pull on the door handle, but it doesn’t open. The sound of the door clunking against the lock as I pull does catch the attention of the two blondes sitting at the desk just on the other side of the door though, and one of them hurries forward and peaks her head through the door.

“Can I he—” She begins, but her voice cuts off as she looks at me, and her eyes widen with surprise. I stand there awkwardly for a moment while she gapes at me, until she seems to remember herself and she continues. “I’m sorry, um… Are you, Anastasia Steele?”

“Yes,” I say, relieved. I was almost worried I’d come to the wrong place when my badge didn’t work.

“Wonderful, come on in. Did they give you a security badge downstairs?” She asks.

“Yeah, but it didn’t work on the door,” I say, holding it up for her to see as she leads me towards the desk where the other blonde is sitting, though judging by her dark eyebrows, her light, platinum locks aren’t natural, which makes me wonder if there’s some unwritten rule here about being blonde. Have I seen a single female employee here who wasn’t blonde? I don’t think that’s legal…

“Well, once we get you settled in, we can take it over to the security office and have them correct your permissions,” Blonde number one tells me. “My name is Andrea Parker and I am Mr. Grey’s personal assistant, and this is our receptionist, Leila Williams.”

She gestures to blonde number two, who looks at me with the same kind of surprised confusion Andrea did when she first let me in the door.

“Hi Leila, I’m Ana,” I tell her, reaching out to shake her hand, and although she takes my hand in hers, her gaze doesn’t change. She stares almost disbelievingly at me for a moment before her eyes rake over my hair. The shock in her gaze makes me feel as though my theory about the blonde prerequisite is confirmed, or possibly just that I have food on my face.

“Hi,” She says at last and then she releases me to answer the phone which begins to ring on her desk. “Christian Grey’s office, how may I direct your call?” She answers.

“If you like, you can put your things in this drawer here,” Andrea says quietly while Leila helps the person on the phone. I place my things in the drawer and then stand awkwardly behind the desk for what I’m supposed to do next. When Leila hangs up, Andrea picks up the handset from the phone next to what I assume is her computer and then dials a four digit extension.

“Mr. Grey, Miss Steele has arrived,” She says into the receiver a second later. She listens intently for a moment and then says, “Yes, Sir.” Before hanging up the phone and turning back to me.

“If you’ll just wait here for one second, I’ll be right back,” She says with a smile, and then she disappears down a hall to the right of the desk. I settle down into the chair next to Leila and look around the room.

“So how do you know, Mr. Grey?” Leila asks, turning to me with interest.

“Oh… um, we went to school together. He lived in my dormitory at Harvard my freshman year and we had a class together,” I say, trying to keep it simple. I don’t think it’s a good idea to advertise to the people of GEH how… intimately I know the CEO.

“Oh, you go to Harvard? That’s amazing! Normally, you wouldn’t think a girl as pretty as you are would end up in a school like that,” She says, and the backhanded compliment takes me by surprise because I can’t tell if it’s intentional or she’s just really that obtuse, but I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“I don’t know…” I say. “I mean, my best friend Kate goes to Harvard too and she’s gorgeous.”

“Really? Does she also know, Mr. Grey?” Leila asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she’s been dating Elliot, uh… his brother, for 2 ½ years now.”

“Oh, well she’s a lucky girl then. Elliot Grey is a very attractive man,” She says.

“All the Grey men are,” I say, but she doesn’t return my smile. Instead she gives me a nasty kind of grimace and then turns back to her computer. It’s weird that this girl seems to be having such a hostile reaction towards me, she doesn’t even know me.

“Anastasia,” Andrea says as she comes around the corner again.

“Yes?” I reply.

“Mr. Grey will see you now.”

My nerves are peaked again when I stand from my chair and walk around the desk to follow after Andrea. She leads me down a long hallway, past the closed doors of several offices and conference rooms, until she stops in front of a set of double doors. I step forward as Andrea moves to the side to allow me to pass and push open the door, taking extra precaution to step over the lip on the floor that is a tripping hazard if I’ve ever seen one. I couldn’t imagine a more embarrassing way to see Christian after all this time than sprawling head first onto the floor of his office.

The office is huge, big enough that I find myself wondering whether it had been two large offices at one time, but it’s also strikingly empty and a little dark. Besides the shades covering the windows, there is nothing on the walls. There are no plants, no bookcases or filing cabinets, no furniture at all besides the two chairs and the desk they’re placed in front of where the man, who is the reason I’ve been reduced into a tightly wound ball of anxiety all day, sits staring intently at me.

I realize in this moment that my memory is terrible. The images of him that I’ve kept in my mind, that I’ve played over and over again in my dreams, don’t do justice to the beauty of the man before me. He does look a little different but I’m not sure if that’s because his body has changed or if I’m just not used to seeing him dressed in a suit. His hair is in complete disarray, but that’s always worked for him, and he has facial hair now. Not a full beard, just scruff that looks as though he just hasn’t shaved in a few days. His eyes seem darker somehow and I can almost feel the intensity of his gaze barring into me, like heat.

Surprisingly though, as I look back at him, I feel most of the nervousness that has had me tied up in knots all morning, melt away. I expected seeing him for the first time would feel weird but it doesn’t. It feels… very normal. Too normal. Relieving, almost.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” He repeats, and even though his tone is low and even, I detect the smallest hint of nervousness. We stare at each other for another long beat and then he gestures to one of the chairs across from him.

“Have a seat,” He says, and I’m surprised that his tone is more of a suggestion than a command. Maybe Elliot was right, maybe he’s been just as anxious about this meeting as I have.

I walk forward and sit across from him and see his Adam’s apple jump as he swallows. He looks as though he’s trying to figure out where to begin.

“You look good,” I tell him, trying to break the ice.

“You look thin,” He says, his response coming so quickly I wonder if it’s something he’s been fixating on since I walked through the door.

“Yeah, I run now,” I say. “Turns out you were right and working out regularly helps you lose weight and makes you look good. I should have listened when you tried to get me up to go to the gym with you.”

“No, you were perfect, you are perf- I, uh…” He stutters, and I feel a smile creep across my lips.

“Relax, Christian,” I tell him, and he nods and takes a deep breath.

“How’s school?” He asks, calmer now and with a practiced kind of authority in his voice.

“Good. I haven’t gotten my final grades back yet but I think I did pretty well,” I say. “This is all very impressive, GEH I mean. You really did it. You did everything you said you would and you built something incredible. I’m… I’m proud of you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I didn’t want you to fail. I just wish you…” I stop and shake my head slightly, trying to change direction. Dr. Flynn said it was important to be supportive, and to not use language that attacks Elena. If that’s how it has to be, it’s just better that I don’t mention her at all. Besides, I don’t want to bring this up at work. If I’m going to be here every day there needs to be a clear separation between what goes on here, and what goes on outside of these walls.

“I just want you to be happy,” I say instead.

He diverts his eyes for a minute, looking as though he’s trying think of how to reply, so I try and come up with something else non-consequential to keep it light between us.

“You have a beard now,” I observe aloud, wishing I could have come up with something even just slightly more clever, but to my relief he chuckles slightly and reaches up to run his fingers over the stubble on his chin.

“Yes, I’m really a changed man,” He says, and his response makes me giggle. I watch his eyes warm and it makes the last of the tension I feel melt away.

“So I’ve heard,” I tell him. “I uh… I saw your family last night.”

“Yeah, my mom called me this morning. She was really happy to see you.”

“Me too. I’ve really missed her.”

“I know, I felt the same. I didn’t realize how much I missed her until I went and saw her a few weeks ago. It feels really good talking to her again. And of course, Mia.”

“Oh my god, Mia!” I exclaim. “I didn’t even recognize her when I first saw her. She’s…”

“An adult,” He finishes for me.

“Exactly! I was floored when I saw her! Seriously. She’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a problem,” Christian says bitterly, making me laugh again. “I really couldn’t believe it when I saw her,” He continues. “I mean, she’s my baby sister but she’s… not a baby anymore.”

“Has she told you about Juilliard?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“And… did she tell you how your dad is reacting to her wanting to go there?”

“Yes.”

“Well how do you feel about that?”

“I feel like she should go to Harvard,” He says, and it surprises me.

“Really? I thought you of all people…”

“I’m not anti-education, Ana,” He interrupts me. “I didn’t feel it was necessary for me, but Mia is different. I want her to be the very best she can be and as much as I know she loves dancing, she could be so much more than that.”

“But it’s what she wants to do,” I argue. “Is she really making more of herself if she’s not doing what she’s passionate about?”

“I don’t want her to give up ballet,” He says. “I haven’t given up the piano. I just want her to find a real career. I mean, ballerinas make something like, $20,000 a year, that’s not even a livable wage, and she’s far too intelligent and capable to have to live that kind of life.”

“It’s not all about money to some people, Christian. Are you saying, if she chose ballet, you wouldn’t help support her?” I ask.

“Of course I would, what do you think all of this is for? I just worry that in ten years when she’s not as… nimble as she is now or she blows out a knee, she’ll regret not going to school, and I don’t want her to have any regrets.”

“You know… you sound an awful lot like your dad,” I suggest, and he rolls his eyes and shakes his head for a minute, then changes the subject.

“Elliot tells me you’ve written a book,” He says.

“Yeah, I finished it a few weeks ago. One of the students over in the law school at Harvard is helping me get a copyright and it’s being edited over the summer. Dr. Ralston, he’s the head of the English department at Harvard, he’s going to help me try and get published next year.”

“I’d love to read it, Ana.”

“Oh… uh, I don’t know,” I say dismissively, and he raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t want me to?”

“I just don’t think you’d like it. It’s, uh… it might be a little personal for you.”

“It’s about me?”

“Well no, and… yes. I mean, it’s fiction, but it’s about… well, it’s about us and what happened. It’s about what I went through afterwards.”

“I see…” He says, and he looks down at his fingers for a moment before looking back up at me. “Ana, I-“

“Nope,” I say, cutting him off. “No, no, no. Not here. Christian, I think it’s important that we keep this as a safe place for us, for me. We have to be here every day and that means that whatever drama is happening in our personal lives can’t be here too. Otherwise, it’s going to be messy. When we’re at work, you’re my boss and I’m your intern. That’s it… okay?”

“Okay,” He agrees. “But… we can talk, right? You said that if I tried to make it up to my family, we could talk. I’ve tried, I am.”

“We can talk,” I assure him. “Of course we can talk. Just not here.”

“Okay,” He nods. “How about tonight? My place? We can have dinner.”

“Your place?” I ask hesitantly.

“I promise, just dinner,” He says quickly. “I uh… I can’t really go out in public without the attention from the press and I’d rather what we have to talk about not make it into the Seattle Times.”

“Oh… yeah. Um, sure, we can go to your place. For dinner,” I add quickly. “Just dinner.”

“Just dinner,” He agrees as he smiles back at me. “I’ll make the arrangements. Is seven o’clock, okay?”

“Seven o’clock is fine,” I tell him. “So… I guess I should get to work, but I don’t really know what that is right now…”

“The project I have planned for you isn’t ready yet,” He tells me. “I’m going to need a couple more weeks, so I thought in the meantime, you could just help Andrea until I find something else for you to do.”

“Sure,” I agree. “I’ll go find out what she needs me to do, then.” I stand up and turn for the door but he stops me before I can move forward.

“Ana… uh, there’s one more thing that we need to talk about, and it can’t wait until tonight.”

“What?” I ask suspiciously as I lower myself back into the chair.

“Okay… um, I want to be honest with you because I really do want to make this work, and in the spirit of honesty, I have to tell you about something that I’ve done that I don’t think you’re going to be very happy about.”

“No, Christian. Not here,” I repeat, standing up too quickly, as if the sudden motion will cause the images of Elena that come to mind to fall out of my head and onto the floor.

“Ana, it really can’t wait. Seriously. Even if I don’t tell you now, you’ll know in about fifteen seconds anyway,” He says, “I want it to come from me, so please, just… sit down.”

I give him a pained look as I sit back down in my chair. I really, really don’t want to do this here but since he knows that and he’s being this insistent, it must be important. I take a deep breath to brace myself.

“What?” I ask quietly, staring down at the desk rather than back at him and feeling an overwhelming sense of dread.

“I was worried about you,” He begins hesitantly. “That whole first summer after you… uh, after you went to Savannah. I couldn’t stop thinking about you alone on that campus. I mean, after that whole stalker ordeal with Kate, I just couldn’t convince myself that you’d be safe. So, I hired someone…”

“You hired someone to what?” I ask suspiciously, but rather than answer me directly, he presses a button on the phone on his desk.

“Mr. Grey?” A deep voice answers.

“Taylor, will you send Sawyer in here,” Christian asks, and the minute the words are out of his mouth, I feel a deep sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Sawyer?” I repeat hoarsely, and a second later I hear the door open behind me. I turn around and… he’s there, my best friend, looking at me with such shame that if I didn’t feel as though someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head, it might’ve made me want to cry.

“Ana-” Luke begins, but I cut him off immediately.

Corporate security?” I ask, my voice a cold accusation.

“It wasn’t a lie,” Luke says and my vision goes red.

It wasn’t a lie? That’s your defense?” I spit back at him. My brain is racing as I try and process what is happening. I’ve known Luke for two years, he’s been there for me in a way that Kate never could because of her loyalty to Elliot, whose focus has always been Christian. He was the person I could really talk to, who I could lean on and go to for unbiased advice. But him standing there makes me realize that all of that was a lie. He’s been working for Christian the whole time, probably reporting back everything I’ve said to him.

“You hired someone to be my friend so you could spy on me?” I demand, turning my angry gaze on Christian.

“No, that wasn’t my intention,” Christian says quickly.

“Oh, really?” I snap back. “Please enlighten me then. What exactly were you trying to accomplish by artificially placing someone in my life to gain my trust?”

“I just needed to know you were safe,” Christian says, and it triggers an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. I did this for you. He always goes back to that, justifying his bad decisions as thinking of someone else, but he’s not thinking of anyone else, he’s only thinking of himself. Luke wasn’t there to keep me safe, Luke was there to keep an eye on me so Christian knew what I was doing.

“Whatever was going on with me, whatever is going on with me, is none of your business, Christian. You lost the right to be in any part of my life when you made your choice two years ago,” I tell him, coolly. “I seriously can’t believe you did this. You’re so far over the line with this one, I can’t…” I turn back to look at Luke, who is watching me carefully, and the look in his eyes, like a friend who is truly concerned about my feelings, makes me nauseous. I need to get out of this office, it’s too overwhelming having both of them staring at me. I’m furious but I know from experience that the anger is temporary and whatever is waiting underneath will be much worse and harder to handle. I don’t want to face that at work. This is exactly the type of situation I told Christian I wanted to avoid in the office.

“I can’t do this,” I say, standing up from my chair and glaring at Christian. “I really thought I could handle this but I can’t. I was willing to give you a chance to prove that it was a fluke, that it was all just a horrible mistake, but, clearly, it wasn’t. You weren’t confused or broken, you were showing us who you really were. A selfish, controlling psychopath, and I can’t do this with you. This is done.”

“Anastasia!” Christian calls out for me and I whip around to face him, my harsh glare burning with the fire of my rage.

“Don’t!” I scream at him. “Don’t you dare come after me.”

He gapes at me, shocked, for a moment, and I turn back for the door. As I walk forward, I see Luke hesitate, like he’s debating whether or not to stop me, but he ultimately steps aside and lets me pass. I storm back up the hallway where Andrea and Leila are both seated behind the desk, chatting with each other. They stare at me with confusion as I yank open the drawer with my things inside and begin pulling them out hastily.

“What floor is Grey Construction on?” I ask, but Andrea is so taken off guard by the hostility in my voice, her response is less of an answer and more a jumbled mess of confused filler words.

“Grey Construction,” I repeat. “What floor is it on?”

“Four,” Andrea says, and I turn around and angrily stomp my way towards the double doors.

“They never last,” I hear Leila say behind me, but I ignore her and step forward to pound on the elevator call button. The doors slide open and I hurry inside, choose the button for the fourth floor, and then begin furiously pressing the door close button over and over again.

The fourth floor is much more open than the eighth. There is no security door blocking my entrance, but there are multiple departments on this floor, so I have to find the Grey Construction suite number before I’m able to get to Elliot’s office. Thankfully, he’s alone, examining a set of blueprints on his desk, when I burst through the door unannounced and slam it closed behind me.

“Ana?” Elliot asks, concerned when he looks up and sees me on the edge of hysteria.

“I can’t do this,” I tell him. “I can’t be on the team. I thought I could, but I can’t. I can’t be supportive if he keeps doing this to me over and over again.”

“What happened?” Elliot asks, his voice tightening as he narrows his eyes at me.

“Luke.”

“Luke? Like, your friend Luke? What does he have to do with Christian?”

Well, at least Elliot didn’t know.

“Christian hired him to spy on me. He works for Christian’s security team. Luke has just been pretending to be my friend so that Christian could keep track of me these past two years.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Elliot groans.

“No,” I say, and the tears finally begin to break through the anger. “It was all a lie. Everything.”

“Hey, Ana,” Elliot says, crossing the room and wrapping me in his arms. “Don’t cry, it’s going to be fine.”

“What am I supposed to do, Elliot? I don’t… I mean, I’m stuck here. God, I’m such an idiot! I let him lure me back in and now I’m surprised that he hurt me again? It’s literally my first day, I have three more months of this. What am I going to do?”

“Well, you have two choices,” Elliot says. “You can quit. You can go back to Escala, pack up your things, move in with me or Kate for the summer and cut him out of your life again. Or you can face it. You can try to work this out with Christian and with Luke and do what you can to move past it, at least until your internship is over. You choose. It’s up to you, Ana. Look, I know my family has put a lot of pressure on you to help Christian but it’s not worth having you help him if it’s going to break you. You need to do what’s best for you and whatever you choose to do, I’ll stand by you.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on Christian’s side?” I ask quietly. “I thought you said family was most important.”

“You are family,” He replies, and I smile into his shirt for a second and then step back and look at the floor in silence while I decide what I want to do. Elliot’s right, I could quit, pack up my things, move in with Kate, and chalk all of this up as a huge mistake, but that feels like I’d be losing more than anyone. This summer isn’t just about helping Christian, this internship is important for my future. It’s the last opportunity I have to gain any kind of real world experience before I graduate and I can’t waste it. I didn’t work as hard as I did in school only to struggle finding a job because I don’t have Christian’s stupid letter of recommendation stapled to my resume.

“What do I do to try and work it out? I don’t even know where to start. How do you deal with this, Elliot?” I ask, knowing he’s better at accepting people in spite of their shortfalls than anyone I know.

“Maybe you should call Dr. Flynn,” He suggests. “He told us if we’re having any problems dealing with Christian to come talk to him. Maybe he can help.”

“Maybe… yeah,” I nod.

“Take the rest of the day off, Ana. Go see Flynn. Use the time to decide what you want to do.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to offer me that, Elliot,” I reply wryly.

“Sure I do. It’s my name on the door after all,” He says smugly, and I laugh as he pulls me into a hug once more. “Come on. You can call Flynn’s office and let them know you’re on your way. I’ll drive you over there.”

“Thanks, Elliot,” I say gratefully, and then follow after him towards the elevators.

Next Chapter

Chapter 07

Image result for Seattle summer

When I make it back to the house from turning in my Race in Post War Fiction final, Kate is waiting impatiently in the living room, pacing across the floor in front of the window.

“What took you so long?” She asks when I walk through the door, “It’s after ten. We really have to get on the road.”

“I know, I know,” I tell her as I scramble to gather the last few things that I haven’t already packed in her car. “I’m sorry, that final had way more essay questions than I was prepared for.”

We spend the next ten minutes double checking that we remembered to turn off the gas and the water, adjusted the thermostat, and that all the doors and windows are locked. On our way out the back door, Kate assures me that she remembered to have our mail forwarded to our respective addresses back in Washington, which has been worrying me all morning since I forgot to give Ray my new mailing address in the letter I sent him last night. I suppose that since I’m going to be stuck in the car for most of the next four days, I could write him again and then mail the letter from one of the hotels we have booked along the way.

I climb into the front seat of Kate’s car, waiting while she tries to stuff one last duffle bag into the too full back seat before slipping through the driver’s side door.

“You ready for this?” She asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I tell her while I reach around and pull my seatbelt down over me. In reality, I’ve been dreading this road trip since I agreed to go back to Seattle. It’s four long days, stuck in a car, while driving through a lot of open nothingness. Unfortunately, Kate needs her car back home and I didn’t want her making the drive alone. So, rather than buying a plane ticket, I agreed to come with her. Still, on the list of things that have my nerves peaked, the drive falls pretty low compared to what I know is waiting for me in Seattle. Christian and I have been talking pretty regularly over the last few weeks, just a few, short phone conversations two or three times a week, and it’s been civil, but it’s also been superficial. Once I’m back in Seattle, we’re really going to have to face what happened and I don’t even know where to begin.

“I know it’s a long drive, but cheer up,” Kate says brightly, interrupting my concerned thoughts. “I’ve got tunes!”

She reaches down for the iPod connected to her stereo through Bluetooth and, although I don’t see the song she puts on, I recognize it within the first few seconds it begins playing. It’s the Spice Girls’ Wannabe. We grin broadly at each other and begin singing along as she puts the car in reverse and backs out of the alley behind the house we won’t see again for the next three months.

As we weave through the streets of Cambridge, I stare thoughtfully at the tops of the buildings and trees on campus that I can just make out over the houses around us, and I feel a kind of nostalgic sadness cross over me. My junior year is over, I’m almost finished here.

“Kate, do you realize we’re going to be seniors when we come back here?” I ask.

“Weird, right?” She says, looking over her shoulder so she can pull onto the freeway.

“I don’t know if weird is the right word…” I tell her. “I really love it here and this time next year, we’re going to be saying goodbye for good.”

“Yeah, I really love Seattle though,” Kate says. “I mean, it was fun living on the east coast for a while, but, once school’s over, I’ll definitely be ready to move home.”

“Hm,” I hum in reply, and she glances over at me with a furrowed brow.

“You are moving back home, right? I mean, when we graduate, you’ll go back to Washington, won’t you?”

“I don’t know, I guess it depends on where I get a job,” I tell her.

“What!” She cries. “Ana, you have to come home. We’ve been inseparable since the start of college. You can’t break up the dream team now. If you move somewhere else, it will crush Elliot. And what about Ray? He’ll be home next year!”

“Well, of course I’m open to any jobs in Seattle, Kate. But I have to go where the money is and all the largest publishing houses are in New York.”

She narrows her eyes at me but then brightens a little as if something new has occurred to her. “I don’t know why we’re talking about this anyway. Your book is going to be published by the time we graduate, you won’t even need a job. Just a quiet place surrounded by friends and family where you can settle down and start writing your next novel.”

“I mean, maybe,” I tell her with a shrug. “But, that’s not necessarily my dream, Kate.”

“So your dream is working in a publishing house? What are you going to do, edit other people’s work when you could be creating your own?” She asks as if she thinks it’s a step down from doing nothing but writing books all the time. “You’re too good for that, Ana.”

“There are other jobs in publishing houses besides editing,” I reply. “Look, we have a whole other year of school left before we have to start worrying about who’s doing what and who’s ending up where. Let’s cross this bridge when we get to it.”

She purses her lips together like she’s trying to stop the torrent of arguments I know are racing through her mind from coming out of her mouth. It’s actually surprising. Kate usually isn’t one to hold back what she’s thinking or how she feels, but perhaps she’s being cognizant of the fact we’re going to be cooped up in this car together for the next few days and a few miles outside of Cambridge is not the best place to start an argument. Instead, she turns her iPod back up and we sing along to a long list of songs that make me think of middle school until the late hours of the night turn into the early hours of the morning and a very tired Kate pulls into the hotel we’ve booked in Toledo, Ohio.

We’re back in the car first thing the next morning, and it’s Kate’s intention that we continue driving until we reach Bismarck, North Dakota, an astounding 13 ½ hours away. It’s exhausting watching the invariable scenery of the mid-west pass us by and makes the hours seem to drag on and on. By the time the sun starts to go down, we’re both so bored out of our minds that we’re not even capable of keeping up a conversation, which is perhaps the only reason why I hear my phone vibrate in my bag on the floor by my feet.

“It’s Elliot,” I say, when I read his name on the screen of my cell phone.

“Oh, do I have a missed call?” Kate asks, and while she looks down at her own phone, which is wedged between her thighs, I answer the call.

“Hey, Elliot. Here’s Kate.”

“I didn’t call to talk to Kate,” Elliot says curtly. “I called to talk to you, Ana.”

“Oh…” I say, confused by his less than warm demeanor. “Well, what’s up?”

“Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Did you know why he did it? Did you know that he lied on the stand because she gave him money to start his company?”

“Uh…” I stutter, suddenly taken off guard.

“That’s why you two broke up isn’t it? You were fine, you were going to forgive him, and then suddenly, you were gone. You ran away to Savannah, you refused to see him, and refused to take his phone calls. You found out the truth and that’s why you left him, isn’t it?”

I pause for a moment. “Did Christian come talk to you?”

“Did you know, Anastasia?” Elliot asks, ignoring my question.

“Yes, I knew,” I admit, and he’s silent for a minute on the other end of the phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, the pain breaking through the anger in his voice. “We’ve all been trying to figure out what she had over him to make him do what he did. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I thought it might ruin any chance your dad ever had of forgiving Christian and I knew how important that was to you and your mom… It made me leave him and I didn’t know if it would make you do the same thing. You’re all he has.”

“So you were protecting him?”

“No… I mean, maybe, I don’t know. Elliot, your family was falling apart and I thought that if I was the one to tell you, the damage would be irreparable. It’s not that I wanted to hide it, I just thought Christian should be the one to tell you. I thought him coming clean was the only way you’d all be able to move past it.”

“Well he did.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, he just left my parents’ house.”

“H-how is your Dad?” I ask.

“Honestly, I don’t know. He hasn’t said anything and I don’t know if that’s better or worse than the yelling.”

“Maybe he just needs some time to process it… It’s good though, right? He told the truth. He owned up to it. That’s progress.”

“I don’t know… I’m going to go over to Christian’s apartment tomorrow to talk to him about it, let Dad cool off a little. I just can’t believe this is all because of money. I mean of all the stupid shit…”

“I know,” I say quietly.

“You’ll be here by Sunday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re going to have a dinner at my parents’ house that night, and you need to be here.”

“With Christian?”

“No, just my mom and Mia… and hopefully my dad, although after what Christian just told us, I don’t know. Christian said he has work obligation this weekend so we thought we could use the time to kind of regroup and come up with a game plan now that you’re in town. Since you’ll be at work with him everyday, you’ll probably be around him the most and we just want to make sure we’re being consistent.”

“Okay,” I tell him. “Uh… Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“You’ve been around him a lot, right?”

“More than anyone else. Pretty much whenever he’s not at work. Why?”

“Has he… I mean, have you seen him contact Elena at all?”

“No, and he doesn’t talk about her. I asked him a few days ago when he last heard from her and he said not since he’s talk to you.”

“And you believe him?”

“I have to,” Elliot says. “We all do. We’re never going to be able to move past this if we never trust him. I believe that he is doing everything in his power to make this better. I think that’s why he came here tonight. He wants to get back to a good place with us, with you. He’s trying.”

“You amaze me, Elliot,” I tell him truthfully. “When I found out the truth about why he did it, I… well you know what I did. You’re an amazing brother to stand by his side and support him unconditionally the way you do and I want you to know that, just in case Christian hasn’t said it.”

“Well, you don’t get to pick your family and at the end of the day, they’re all you have in the world. That’s all that matters to me.”

“I know,” I tell him “And… when you see Christian tomorrow, tell him I said hi.”

“I will,” He promises. “I’ll see you Sunday, Ana.”

“Bye, Elliot.”

“Bye.”

I hang up the phone and take a deep breath as I mull over the conversation. Christian told his Dad. I wasn’t sure if the therapy and reaching out to his mom and putting up with Elliot were just something he was doing to appease me, but telling his dad is something different. He’s finally taking some responsibility for his mistake.

“What was that about?” Kate asks.

“Uh… Christian told his dad why he lied on the stand.”

“What!” She gasps, “What did he say?”

“He lied because Elena paid him to. She’s the one who gave him the money to start GEH.”

“Are you serious?” She asks, and I nod. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it was too much of a coincidence that he got start-up money right after the trial. What did Carrick say? Is he freaking out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wow… I wonder if Carrick is going to do anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Christian took money to cover up a crime. That’s bribery.”

“And perjury,” I add.

“Exactly, he could go to jail for that. I honestly can’t believe he’d take that risk. I mean, think of what that would do to his company. This could be a PR nightmare, he could lose business deals and fall out with all of his contacts. He could lose everything. He must be really serious about making this up to you, Ana.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“So… the question is, how do you feel about that? I mean, we know why he’s doing it. He’s still in love with you and this is what you asked him to do. Apparently, he doesn’t think there is a price too high, so… is there even a possibility that you may take him back?”

“I don’t know, Kate.”

“Well you said you loved him and that you miss him. Isn’t this what you want?”

“I just don’t know if I could trust him again. I mean, I know he’s reached out to his family and that he’s trying to make amends, I can see that. But if I were to ever get involved with him again, I would need to know that Elena Lincoln was completely out of his life, and,  even though Elliot says he hasn’t talked to her, for some reason, I just don’t trust it. I mean, she was gone before, he’d cut off contact with her before and she clawed her way back to him. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to certain that she’s gone, and how do you have a relationship with someone you can’t trust?”

“So it’s Elena. Elena is the issue?” Kate asks.

“Yeah. And… I need to know that he’s sorry for what he did. Not just that I broke with him, but that he’s sorry he did it and that he knows why it was wrong. Because right now, I’m not sure that he does.”

“Well, he’s in therapy and he has all of us now. He has all the tools to figure it out. We have a long summer ahead of us, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

“I hope so.”

We arrive at our hotel in Bismarck just before midnight that night and then are up again at six AM to continue on to our final stop before Seattle, Coeur D’Alene, Idaho. It’s another grueling 13 ½ hours in the car after not nearly enough sleep when we reach the lakeside city that is finally starting look like home.

“I vote you have your car shipped back to Cambridge,” I tell Kate as we climb into the car Saturday morning for the final 4 ½ hour leg of our trip. “I seriously never want to make this drive again.”

“You’re telling me,” She says, as she sighs and pulls out of the hotel and onto the highway that will take us the rest of the way home.

It’s a beautifully clear day when we finally make it to Seattle, and once we get off the I-90 for 4th Avenue, I realize how glad I am that Kate is the one driving. Not only because I’ve always hated driving in Seattle, which is a confusing mess of one way streets, steep hills, careless pedestrians, and bumper to bumper traffic, but because it gives me a chance to look around at everything I’ve missed for the past two and a half years, including the patchwork of sparkling blue water of Elliot Bay peeking through the lush green trees hanging over the streets of downtown.

I’m so enamored with everything around me, I don’t even realize we’ve stopped until Kate says something.

“We’re here!” She exclaims, and I look away from the shops signs along the tall building across the street and glance over at the apartments to my right. My mouth immediately drops open. We’re idling outside a 30 story tall building made of steel and icy blue glass. The building is round, like several cylinders that have been stacked next to one another, and the front of the building is made of cream colored sandstone with the words Escala written in bold, gold letters next to the doors.

“Are you sure this is the place?” I ask doubtfully. This place looks too nice to be considered simply paid housing for a summer internship.

“Of course I’m sure,” Kate says. “And I can’t park here so you go on in. I’ll pull around to the garage and meet you in the lobby.”

“Okay…” I tell her, and I get out of the car, taking only my purse with me as I make my way up to the wide glass doors. The lobby of the building has stark white walls, sandstone pillars, and a long, curved staircase with a wrought iron hand rail leading up to the second floor. I walk past the contemporary looking furniture and tables with extravagant arrangements of flowers on them, conscious with each step of my shoes clacking too loudly against the white marble floors, towards the shiny black desk with a marble top. There is a woman there dressed in an impeccably cut black suit and pearl colored blouse, concentrating hard on the monitor of her computer.

“Uh… excuse me?” I ask tentatively, and she looks up at me and gives me a broad smile. Her teeth look blindingly white behind her scarlet colored lips.

“Good morning, and welcome to Escala. How can I help you?”

“Yeah, hi. My name is Anastasia Steele. I’m supposed to be moving in today,” I tell her.

“Oh, well, welcome to the building, Miss Steele. Do you have the paperwork from your realtor with you?” She asks as she turns to look through a box of files on the edge of her desk.

“Uh… I didn’t work with a realtor, it’s not really my apartment… I think it’s probably under the name Christian Grey.”

In an instant, her pleasant, professional demeanor diminishes and she frowns at me. “Look, I can neither confirm nor deny that Mr. Grey resides in this building and if he did, you should know that Escala is committed to protecting the privacy of our residents and does not allow any form of press on the property, so I’m going to need you to leave.”

“Oh, I don’t work for the media,” I say quickly. “I um… I work for him, the apartment is part of my internship.”

She raises an eyebrow at me, clearly still skeptical, so I dig in my bag to find the letter I received from GEH three weeks ago.

“Here’s my offer letter,” I tell her as I lay the paper with the GEH letterhead out on the counter. She picks it up and skims the section that gives me the address of the housing provided through the company and then reaches over to pick up the phone on her desk, holding a finger up as a way of telling me to wait a moment while she confirms the authenticity of the letter.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kate asks as she scurries up to the desk from behind the twisted staircase, but I don’t have to answer as whoever it is the woman working behind the desk is calling picks up the phone and she recounts the situation for me.

“Yes, Mr. Thomas, there is an Anastasia Steele out here. She says she’s supposed to be moving into an apartment purchased through Mr. Grey today,” She begins, and the moment the other person begins speaking, her face morphs into a look of panic. “Yes, sir, I know… all matters with Mr. Grey are supposed to go through you, I just wasn’t sure… No, she’s right here. Yes, absolutely. I’ll take care of it, sir.”

She hangs up the phone and looks back up with me, her wide, toothy smile firmly back in place.

“I apologize for the confusion, Miss Steele. If you wouldn’t mind having a seat by the window over there, our property manager, Mr. Thomas, will be right out to help you.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, and Kate and I both cross the immaculate stone floor to a small, modern looking sofa on the other side of the room and take a seat. We don’t have to wait long, as only a minute or so later a man with short, wispy, gray hair and a stern face comes through the door behind the desk and marches over to us with his hand outstretched.

“Miss Steele,” He says pleasantly as I shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Mr. Grey speaks very highly of you.”

“Oh… uh… that’s great,” I say awkwardly.

“This packet will give you some details about the many wonderful amenities we have to offer our residents, including the full service gym, spa, and private movie theater,” He says, as he hands me a handful of papers and brochures. “You’ll also find information in there about parking and our guest policies.”

“Okay,” I reply, tucking the packets into my bag to look over later.

“We normally don’t allow subletting in this building but because Mr. Grey is such an important resident here at Escala, we were more than happy to make an exception. However, because Mr. Grey’s name is on the apartment, any service or maintenance requests will have to come from him… I trust that won’t be a problem.”

“Uh, I guess not,” I tell him. Thankfully, I happen to know a very talented engineer/handyman who has been fixing things around the house for me for years, and who conveniently doesn’t live too far away.

“Wonderful. You’ll be on the fourteenth floor, apartment number 1419, and here is your key. Would you like someone to show you the way?”

“Uh no, I think we can manage,” I tell him, smiling at him as I rise to my feet and take the single golden key out of his hand.

“Very good, Miss Steele,” He says, reaching out to shake my hand again. “I do hope that you have a pleasant stay with us here at Escala this summer and if you have any questions or need any help navigating the city, we have a 24 Hour concierge service for your convenience. It’s located just over there,” He says, pointing to another marble desk on the other side of the room.

“Thank-you, Mr. Thomas,” I say, and he steps aside to allow Kate and I to pass. Kate leads the way through the lobby and out to the parking garage but I don’t see her car in any of the spaces close by.

“Where did you park?” I ask.

“Oh… I wasn’t sure which space was yours so I just parked in one of Christian’s,” She says. “But we’ll go get my car and move it into your space before we start unloading your things. I’m pretty sure Christian’s spaces are the farthest away from the elevators as is possible.”

“So then… he really does live here, too? In this building?” I confirm.

“Yeah, he didn’t tell you that?”

“No, he didn’t,” I say irritably as we step into the elevator. “So what, is he going to be in the apartment right next door to me or something?”

“No, he doesn’t live on the 14th floor, Ana. He lives in the penthouse,” Kate says with a laugh and I watch as she reaches forward and presses the button with an engraved “P” on it. As we travel down the one level to the parking garage, I examine the other buttons noting the one at the top that is engraved with a “PH”, and it gives me a small sense of relief. I can count 15 floors between his apartment and mine. I’ll be spending all day with him at work, I don’t think it’s a good idea living in close proximity to one another too.

When the doors open, I follow Kate around the backside of the elevator and up a walkway towards the back of the garage. There is a second gate blocking the roadway with a security guard stationed next to it and Kate has to put a code into a keypad by a locked door for us to continue up the walkway to the back part of the garage. When we finally make it through, I can see why. We turn the corner and we’re facing a few empty spaces and then a line of really expensive looking cars parked along the back wall.

There is a black SUV with the symbol I recognize as Mercedes from driving Kate’s car around and words GL350 on the back, a shiny town car, also black, with a symbol I don’t recognize and only the word Maybach as a distinguisher, and a sleek looking, smoky gray sports car with no name at all, just a fancy letter B. Parked next to the remarkable line of cars is Kate’s convertible.

“Impressive,” I say quietly as I walk up between Kate’s Mercedes and the sport’s car, which looks more like something you would see in a Batman movie than just driving down the road. It’s not surprising really, I suppose. I remember the Bentley he rented in Vegas and his excitement over sailing and helicopter lessons. He’s always had a fascination with power, and not only in the metaphorical sense.

“I see he hasn’t lost his love of new toys,” I say.

“I guess not,” Kate says. “And if, you know, once you start working for him, he asks you to have the Bugatti washed or something and you wanted to say, stop by and pick me up on the way to the car wash so I could drive it around a little, I’d be willing to keep that a secret.”

I roll my eyes at her, but before sliding into the passenger’s seat, I give one last lingering glance through the window of Christian’s car. There is a Mariners cap sitting on smooth leather of the passenger’s seat and I wonder if it’s because he’s recently gone to a game, perhaps with Elliot.

“How much does a car like that cost anyway?” I ask as we pull out of the parking place.

“About $2.5 million,” Kate says casually, as if what she’s just said isn’t one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard.

“And he just leaves it in a parking garage?” I ask, my voice raising an octave with my shock.

“There’s a 24 hour security guard twenty feet away, Anastasia. Not to mention…” She gestures with her head to the ceiling and I see the subtle red blink of light on a security camera pointed directly at the cars in front of us. “That’s a live feed that goes directly up to Taylor’s office and I’d really hate to see what would happen to the guy who got on the wrong side of Taylor. That guy can be a little terrifying.”

“And Taylor is his head of security right?” I ask, vaguely remembering his name from when Christian came to visit the weekend I went out of town with Luke. I grit my teeth together as I think of Luke’s name. It’s been five weeks and I still haven’t heard a single word from my supposed best friend, not that that should matter now. Clearly, he’s moved on.

“Yeah, you’ll probably meet him when you go into GEH on Monday. Christian never goes anywhere without him. Apparently it’s dangerous for mega rich people to just walk around without a full security detail.”

“Why? Because he might get kidnapped and held for ransom?”

“No, because the paparazzi might get a picture of him. You saw what happened to Britney Spears in 2007. Christian’s really just a few pictures away from shaving his head and attacking someone with an umbrella.”

I laugh as we pull into my assigned space, which thankfully is much closer to the elevator than Christian’s. I have one giant suitcase, three duffle bags, and my purple carry on full of things to bring upstairs, so once Kate and I manage to unearth all of the luggage from the depths of the trunk and backseat, we load ourselves up and haul everything towards the elevator, surprisingly managing it all in one trip.

When we get to the fourteenth floor, we have to carry the luggage down a long hallway and take a left turn before we finally get to apartment number 1419. I fish the key out of my pocket and slide it into the lock and when I push open the door, a small, audible gasp escapes my lips.

Just after the short entry way, which has beautiful, pale wood floors and a huge, ornate mirror hanging on the wall, we walk into a surprisingly large, open concept kitchen. The cabinets are a rich caramel color, the counters are made of marble, and all the appliances are spotless stainless steel. There is a wood and steel dining room table with chairs for four just outside the kitchen, which flows seamlessly into the living room. I walk forward, leaving my bags behind as I take in the slate gray, modular sectional sofa, glass coffee table, and huge TV, and that’s all before I get a glimpse of the view through the living room window. We’re surrounded by the tall buildings of downtown Seattle and through the narrow openings between the skyscrapers, I can see the iconic structure of the Space Needle, just a few blocks away.

“Wow, this is awesome, Ana,” Kate says as she too approaches the window to stare out at the cityscape laid all around us.

“I told him not to go overboard,” I say, as I turn around and glance uneasily at the opulence of the room. The whole place looks like something out of one of those interior decorating magazines.

“Maybe this isn’t overboard for him. I mean, there are servants quarters in his apartment, he could have moved you in with him and his apartment is crazy awesome. Although, looking around here does make it weird because it seems as though he does know that you are supposed to put furniture in an apartment.”

“Yeah,” I say with a laugh. “Maybe it’s all a part of this new Christian everyone keeps telling me about.”

“Maybe,” She agrees. “Well, let’s go look at the bedroom so I can get out of here. As much as I love you, Steele, I have a boyfriend waiting for me who I haven’t seen in a month.”

There is only one bedroom in the apartment and the only bathroom is attached to it. Inside the room, we find a comfortable, well made, queen size bed. There is a wide, glass door that leads to a balcony, which has a lounge chair and small table, perfect for a Saturday afternoon of reading.

The bathroom is larger than I expected and is done entirely of limestone. There is a deep, rectangular bathtub next to a walk in glass shower and a double vanity with square, white porcelain sinks.

“And to think, I have to live with my parents this summer,” Kate says as she stares longingly into the cavernous walk in closet just off the bathroom. “Can I move in with you?”

“No, but your clothes can,” I tell her. “I might have to go shopping after I unpack. I don’t know if I have much that is appropriate for a place like Grey Enterprises Holdings.”

“I’ll go through my closet and bring over what I can before we go to the Grey’s tomorrow night,” She promises. “You can probably fit into a bunch of the stuff I still have from a few years ago.”

“Thanks, Kate,” I say gratefully.

“Do you need help unpacking?” She asks.

“No, I’ve got it. Go see your boyfriend,” I tell her and she smiles.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow night,” She says, and she leans in, kisses me on the cheek, and turns around to walk back out through the living room. I follow her to lock the door behind her and then turn around and face the bags I have to unpack. With a sigh, I march forward to tackle the largest suitcase first, but as I do, a vase full of flowers on the dining room table that I hadn’t noticed before catches my eye. They’re pink peonies, my favorite flowers, and after taking a moment to appreciate them, I lean over to inhale the sweet scent, sighing appreciatively. There isn’t a card but I doubt Escala or whatever decorating company Christian hired to furnish this apartment knows my favorite kind of flowers. I smile down at them and then turn around to drag my suitcase back into the bedroom.

It doesn’t take me too long to unpack. There is more than enough space in the dresser and enough hangers in the closet for all the clothes I brought, and, besides the quilt my mom made for me for Christmas two years ago, I haven’t brought much else. I decide once I’m finished that I’ll head out to the grocery store, but when I make it out to the kitchen, I find the refrigerator and the cabinets are already stocked with food. There is already laundry detergent in the laundry room, cleaning supplies beneath the kitchen and bathroom sinks, even the shower is stocked with my preferred brand of shampoo and body wash. There really isn’t anything for me to do.

I should be relieved, excited for the opportunity to relax before having to start a full time job on Monday, but after spending so much time cooped up in the car, I’m feeling a little keyed up. There is a bookshelf in the living room filled with books that I know I could get lost in for hours but I don’t think reading is enough to occupy me right now.

Ultimately, I decide to head down to the gym in the basement and try and run off some of this excess energy. It’s nice because the equipment is state of the art and it’s completely deserted down here. Having no one hovering around waiting for my treadmill like they do back at Harvard actually motivates me to stay a little longer and run a little harder.

When I’m finished, I head back upstairs to take a shower and then wrap myself in one of the over large, incredibly soft bath towels I find in the cabinet in the bathroom before heading out to the kitchen and finding something to make for a late dinner. I decide to keep it simple and settle on a salad which I take with me into the living room while I look through the movies in the cabinet under the TV. I feel a kind of sentimental twinge when I see every one of my favorite movies stacked neatly next to one another. I even let out a small, breathy laugh when at the end of the line, I see the movie Hook, which Christian had played when we went to Vermont together.

Maybe… Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea if I went up to his apartment, just to let him know I’m here and to thank him for the flowers, and the apartment, and the job, and… well, everything really. Closing the cabinet door, I stand up, run into the bedroom to get dressed, and then take a deep bracing breath before grabbing the key to the apartment and strolling out into the hallway. I make my way back to the elevator and once inside, hesitate for just a second before pushing the “PH” button. A disembodied robotic voice with a weird accent that sounds vaguely British immediately comes through the speaker in the wall.

“Please enter your passcode,” The voice commands, and I frown. Of course there’s a code. Did I really expect to just be able to get in an elevator and push a button to get into Christian Grey’s apartment? I briefly consider texting Elliot… I’m sure he has the code, but now that I’ve had time to think about what I’m doing, I’m starting to have second thoughts. Boundaries are important to maintain between Christian and I right now because I know how easy it will be to fall back into our old patterns again. Dropping into his apartment uninvited, especially this late at night, is crossing the line of a professional relationship, even just a cordial relationship, and until I know for sure that Elena is completely out of his life, that’s all there can be between us.

I reach out and press the “open door” button and walk slowly back to my apartment. I feel kind of tired now and I don’t know if it’s because I’m still on eastern time and it’s technically midnight for me, or if it’s just allowing myself to get caught up in the Christian mess again. I haven’t even seen him yet and I’m already feeling discombobulated. If I’m going to make it through the summer, I’m going to need to stop complicating this in my head. I’m here to work. I’m not here to try and be his friend or to try and…

I stop that thought immediately.

I’m here to work.

With a drawn out sigh of frustration, I turn off all the lights in the living room, then head off to my new bedroom and crawl into the crisp, new sheets.

You’re only here to work. I tell myself again as I stare out at the twinkling city lights through my bedroom window, and then I close my eyes, and try not to think about him only 15 floors above me as I fall deeply into sleep.

I spend most of the next day exploring Seattle, getting to know the shops and restaurants close by. Elliot assures me that I HAVE to try Top Pot Doughnuts and he was correct, the maple bar is probably the best I’ve ever had. I walk through the Pike Market district, Pioneer Square, and even make a quick stop over at Qwest Field to take a few pictures to add to my next letter to Ray.

When I get back to Escala, I take a quick shower and change clothes to wear to the Greys’, and then wait for Kate to call and say she’s downstairs. She arrives with a box of clothes for me in the back seat of her car which we take upstairs for me to sort through when I get back and then we head off towards Bellevue where Christian’s parents live.

I actually feel a little nervous as we pull up to the huge house, which is only somewhat familiar to me. I haven’t been here since the Thanksgiving when Christian brought me home for the first time and staring up at the cream and stone walls and the warm windows twinkling through the dusk elicits an empty kind of feeling inside of me. It just feels weird being here without Christian.

I follow Kate up the walkway towards the oversized solid oak doors, which she opens without knocking or ringing the bell.

“Hello?” She calls as we remove our shoes by the door and hang our jackets in the closet off to the left of the entrance hall.

“In here!” I hear Elliot call back, and we make our way past the winding staircase to the family room where the entire Grey family, minus one key member, is scattered across the various furniture around the room watching the evening news.

“Anastasia!” Grace calls, jumping up from her place on the sectional and quickly crossing the room with her arms held open for me.

“Hi, Grace,” I say, smiling broadly as I hug her tightly. I can hear the others moving around and when I let go of Grace, she’s immediately replaced in my arms by someone with long black hair who I don’t believe could possibly be Mia Grey.

“Hey, Ana!” Mia says as she hugs me tightly and then pulls away to look at me.

“You’re so tall!” I say incredulously, and it’s true. I think she’s the same height as I am, and she’s gorgeous. Her almond shaped, chocolate colored eyes are no longer too big in her face and now that she’s lost the last of her baby fat and filled out a little more, she looks like the kind of girl who would play the prom queen in a cheesy teen movie. “You’re like… a grown up,” I tell her.

“Yeah, well… I couldn’t stay fourteen forever,” She says as I continue to gawk at her. She’s really a completely different person and I wonder if what I’m experiencing now, is what Christian experienced when he got to see her for the first time a few weeks ago. It must have really been a shock for him.

I try to cover my awkward stare with a wink and then turn to look at Carrick, who is smiling fondly at me as he pulls me in for a hug. Does this mean he’s decided to help after all?

“Welcome home, Ana,” He says affectionately.

“Thank-you, Carrick,” I reply. “It’s really good to see you again.”

“Oh, Ana!” Elliot cries dramatically, letting of Kate and forcing himself between me and Carrick, then sweeping me up into a rib crushing hug. “How have I survived so long without you?”

“Hi, Elliot,” I laugh when he releases me, and then he slugs me playfully on the arm before turning a more serious look on his mother.

“Can we eat now?” He asks.

“Not quite yet,” She replies. “We’re still waiting on one more.”

“What?” Carrick asks, a note of his alarm in his voice as we all hear the sound of the doorbell. I turn around, feeling a similar sense of apprehension as Grace crosses the polished stone floor to answer the door. When she opens it though, I feel the smallest amount of relief when I see the man standing on the doorstep isn’t Christian, but rather someone I’ve never seen before.

“Thank-you so much for agreeing to meet with us tonight,” Grace says gratefully as she takes his coat and hands it off to a girl who appears through the formal living room off the right to the hall.

“Absolutely, I’m happy to help,” The man says, and he follows Grace back through the entrance hall to where we’re waiting in the living room.

“Everyone,” Grace begins. “This is Dr. John Flynn. We’ve shared several patients over the years and he’s recently started seeing Christian.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Flynn,” Elliot says, stretching his hand out for the doctor’s. I too shake Dr. Flynn’s hand but when he reaches out for Carrick, Carrick doesn’t return the gesture. Instead, he shoots an angry glare at Grace.

“I thought you said this was just going to be a family dinner?” Carrick demands, and I watch as Grace inhales sharply through her nose, trying to keep control of her temper while she responds.

Most of your family is here and there is dinner. Dr. Flynn is here to help us so that we have the proper tools to help your son.”

Carrick’s jaw tenses but he doesn’t respond. Grace turns back to Dr. Flynn with a smile and then leads him through the kitchen to the dining room. When we’re all seated around the dining table, Grace begins a casual conversation with Dr. Flynn while the woman I saw in the entrance hall, who I presume is the Greys’ housekeeper, places a large dish of lasagna, a bowl of Caesar salad, and two baskets of garlic bread in the center of the table. Elliot passes me a bottle of wine and I fill my glass and take a sip as everyone begins to fill their plates.

The tension from Grace and Carrick’s little spat in the living room seems to die away as we eat and I spend the entire meal getting caught up with Mia, who it seems has turned into quite the social butterfly. I ask her about her friends, what she does for fun on weekends, and what her favorite subjects in school are, but somehow every question seems to come back to dancing. Now that summer vacation is just around the corner, she isn’t going to have her high school dance team anymore so she’s planning on auditioning for an actual ballet company in Seattle next week.

“That’s great, Mia.” I tell her. “You’ll have to tell me when your first recital is so I can get tickets and come watch you.”

“I will, I’m so excited, Ana. I think being in an actual ballet company will really help when I apply to Juilliard.”

“Juilliard, wow! I didn’t realize you were so serious about dancing.”

“She isn’t’,” Carrick interrupts. “Her mother and I are thrilled that she has ballet as a hobby but she hasn’t been keeping a 4.0 GPA in an advanced curriculum program in the most prestigious private school in Seattle to spend four years at a dance school. She’ll be at Harvard, pre-law, just like your old man.”

He reaches over rub her shoulder with a proud kind of affection, but she rolls her eyes.

“I don’t want to go to Harvard, Dad,” She says in a low, controlled voice that sounds as if she’s saying something she’s repeated a hundred times. “Not everyone wants to be a lawyer.”

“Nonsense,” He says. “Ana will you please tell this girl how much you love Harvard?”

“I do love it. It’s great,” I say. “But… I also want to be there.”

“See, Dad? Why don’t you just stop being so obsessed with the idea of having a legacy at Harvard and let your kids live their lives?” Mia snaps.

“Ballet is a hobby, Mia, not a career. You’re going to get a real college education.”

“Christian did just fine without Harvard,” Mia argues, and Carrick turns to glare at his daughter.

“You need to watch the way you’re speaking to me, young lady. Now, I’m not going to listen to another word about this. I’m not paying for you to go to Juilliard so just drop it.”

“Well if you won’t, maybe Elena Lincoln will,” Mia says angrily, and her voice is loud enough that it echos through the dining room and everyone falls silent.

“Go to your room,” Carrick says in a low, threatening voice, and Mia picks up the napkin from her lap, throws it down on the table, and storms out of the room, leaving us all sitting awkwardly in deafening silence. No one moves, and it feels as though no one even breathes. We all just sit there, staring at Carrick, who is sitting at the head of the table with his eyes closed and his fists clenched as he tries to reign in his anger.

“Do you see now why I don’t want him around Mia?” Carrick asks, looking up at Grace, who is seated across the table from him. “This is the influence he has on her.”

“Christian isn’t even here,” Grace argues. “He’s seen her three times in the last two years, and all three of those times have been in the last month. How can you possibly say he’s been a bad influence on her?”

“Exactly! Three times and now look at her attitude,” Carrick replies.

“That’s not Christian, Dad. Mia hasn’t changed. She just doesn’t want to go to Harvard,” Elliot says.

“I don’t care what she wants. She’s sixteen, she doesn’t understand what it takes to be successful in the real world,” Carrick says.

“You said the same thing about Christian,” Grace argues. “And if you had just listened to him when he told you he didn’t want to go to school, maybe none of this would have happened!”

“So it’s my fault?” Carrick demands.

“Okay, okay,” Dr. Flynn interjects. “Let’s just take a time out here. Everybody relax, we’re all on the same team. There’s no benefit in assigning blame to one another. We all know who is to blame here.”

“Christian,” Carrick says.

“Elena Lincoln,” Dr. Flynn corrects him.

“Great, here we go,” Carrick says, rolling his eyes.

“Mr. Grey, your son was a victim of sexual abuse and assault predicated on a history of neglect and physical abuse-“

“I understand that,” Carrick interrupts him. “No one here is denying that he was her victim, but when we tried to help him, he used it as an opportunity to betray every single person in this room so that he could get what he wanted. That’s on him. He made that choice, not Elena.”

“I disagree with you,” Dr. Flynn says. “I very much believe that Elena Lincoln made that choice for him.”

“He’s not stupid, he knew what he was doing. He wanted money. It’s all he talked about for years, and he took the first opportunity he could to get it without any regard for the feelings of the people who love him.”

“Yes, you’re right. He wanted money to start his company and the way he went about getting what he wanted hurt a lot of people, but Mr. Grey, as hurtful as his actions may have been, I do not believe they were malicious. I think that Christian was so caught up in this pattern of abuse with Mrs. Lincoln, who you’ll notice knew exactly the thing to offer him to get him to do what she wanted, that he wasn’t capable of fully comprehending the gravity of his choice and the effects it would have on everyone around him,” Dr. Flynn says.

“I’m not sure about that,” I say quietly, and for the first time since this conversation started, Dr. Flynn looks away from Carrick towards me.

“I’m sorry, dear. We haven’t been introduced,” He says.

“Oh, uh… my name is Ana, Anastasia Steele. I was dating Christian when all of this happened.”

“Oh, you’re Anastasia,” Dr. Flynn says as an excited kind of smile crosses his face. “I’m very happy you’re here. It’ll make this transition a lot easier… But I’m getting ahead of myself, you were saying you weren’t sure? What exactly do you mean?”

“That he didn’t know that what he was going to do would have consequences,” I clarify. “You see the morning of the trial, he was scared. I’d never seen him so nervous before and then just before we went in, he asked me if I would love him no matter happened in the courtroom that day. He knew what he was about to do was wrong and that it had the potential to drive all of us away, but he did it anyway.”

“Ah, yes, fair point,” Dr. Flynn says. “But let me clarify. When I say that Christian wasn’t capable of fully comprehending the gravity of his choice, I don’t mean to say that he was completely oblivious. Like Mr. Grey pointed out earlier, Christian is a very intelligent young man. He knew that lying under oath was perjury and was a crime, he knew that his family would be upset at what he’d done, and that was probably very overwhelming and unsettling for him. So this is where it becomes very important to understand the extent to which the abuse he has been subjected to has taken hold of his mind and his decision making capabilities.”

Carrick snorts.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grey, did you have something to add?” Dr. Flynn asks, patiently.

“I don’t buy it,” Carrick says. “We taught him right from wrong. He knew what he was doing.”

“Mr. Grey, I understand how frustrating this must feel for you but please don’t think I mean to impugn your parenting. I mean to illustrate the consequence of the abuse he suffered at the hands of Mrs. Lincoln. You see, abusive relationships have an addictive quality to them, much in the same way gambling or sex can become addictive. The abuse makes the relationship unpredictable, the reward phase and the violence phase are compelling, exhilarating, and even mind altering. It causes a chemical reaction and the release of endorphins and the rush of adrenaline fuel the addiction. That addiction affects their perception of the relationship, it affects their ability to make rational decisions, and leads to compulsive behavior. For instance, you might see an increase in drug and alcohol use, lying, stealing, compulsive working, self-harm, sex addiction, eating disorders… all possible consequences of this manipulated state of mind, and these behaviors become more prevalent in situations of great stress or hardship. Now at the time this event happened, Christian was living in a new environment on his own for the first time in his life, he was attending an Ivy League school, he was in his first real, serious relationship, he was having to face this trial and what Mrs. Lincoln had done to him…”

“He was failing,” I say quietly, inadvertently interrupting as the words come unwittingly out of my mouth.

“Failing?” Dr. Flynn asks.

“He was trying to start his company,” I say. “He was trying to make a deal to get funding to start up and every time he thought he had something, something would go wrong, and it would fall through.”

Dr. Flynn stares back at me for a moment, pondering what I’ve said. “So there’s the self-worth,” He muses aloud. “Excellent, that gives me a new insight. Thank-you, Anastasia. Now, essentially, what I’m here to do is to make sure we have a consistent message and the proper tools to help Christian escape this cycle of abuse with Mrs. Lincoln so that you all can experience a healthy relationship with him once more. Now, I want to preface this by telling you all that this is not going to be easy. I can’t discuss the details of what Christian has said to me in our sessions but I can say that from what he’s told me and from what I’ve discussed with Grace, this seems to be a textbook case of what’s known as Victim Grooming, which is seen in a vast variety of abusive relationships, but is most prevalent in cases involving children. Now we all know the sexual abuse Christian endured began at the age of fifteen but the psychological aspect of the abuse actually goes back much farther than that, I think.”

“What do you mean?” Grace asks. “Has he said…”

“I’m sorry, Grace, I can’t discuss what Christian has said to me, but what I can do is walk you through the victim grooming process which will perhaps help you better understand how deep the psychological abuse really is. Now, when an abuser identifies their victim the first thing they’re going to do is observe the victim for vulnerabilities and then attempt to earn their trust by offering them special attention and being understanding and sympathetic about their feelings.”

“Elena always had a special interest in Christian,” Grace says. “Ever since we adopted him, she was always holding him and talking to him. She was very affectionate towards him and he bonded with her quickly, more quickly than anyone else. When he was older and he was struggling with his past issues and his adolescent angst, she was the only one he would talk to. We encouraged it…” Grace’s voice cuts off as tears begin bubbling up and Kate reaches over to hug her.

“Grace, none of the blame is on you,” Dr. Flynn, assures her. “This is all on Elena.”

Grace nods and Dr. Flynn continues.

“Once the abuser has gained the victim’s trust and has made the victim feel as though they are the only one who really understands them, the abuser will begin to isolate them from their family, get them alone, and used to being alone, so that when the abuse starts, there aren’t any witnesses.”

“Like having him come to her house to work.” Elliot adds.

“Exactly. Once the abuse starts, the abuser will further isolate the victim by creating an expectation of secrecy about their relationship, possibly using the victim’s own insecurities as a way of keeping them silent about what’s happening to them.”

“Or a contract,” I say pointedly.

“Or a contract,” Dr. Flynn concedes, “Now if the abuser is successful up to this point, they are in control of the relationship, and that’s when the cycle begins. Once the victim gets in the cycle, it’s very difficult to get them out. Like I said, the highs and the lows of the relationship become addictive and that addiction actually strengthens the bond between the abuser and the victim. It’s what we psychiatrists call Traumatic Bonding.”

Elliot raises his hands in the air and gives everyone around the table a smug smile as if to say I told you so.

“So what do we do?” Kate asks.

“First and foremost, we need to get Elena Lincoln completely out of his life. Zero contact. And in order to do that, you’re all going to have to make it clear that you all support him, love him, and want to be there to help him.”

“We’ve been trying to get him away from her,” Elliot says. “I’m with him as much as possible so that she can’t get near him, and Ana gave him the ultimatum that if he didn’t cut off all contact with her, she would be gone.”

Dr. Flynn frowns. “And while I understand the merit behind that idea and why you would feel that compulsion, Ana, that is actually the least helpful thing that you could say to him.”

“What? Why?” I ask.

“It reinforces what she is telling him. You have to remember that isolation is one of her most powerful weapons to keep him dependent on her. When you say that if he doesn’t leave her, you won’t have anything to do with him, she’s able to spin that into you don’t care about him and that you’re already on your way out. Remember, Christian faced the loss of a parent very early in his life, abandonment is one of his triggers, and an easy way for Elena to get to him. When you say that you will be out of his life if he doesn’t live up to an expectation, you are placing the blame of the abuse and the responsibility to end the abuse solely on him, and it creates fear and triggers his defense mechanism.”

“So… you’re saying we should encourage him to have a relationship with her?” Carrick asks skeptically.

“No, I’m saying that language that places ultimatums on him or that is attacking her will create a defensive reaction. Let me put it to you this way. When the police receive a tip that there is suspected domestic violence occurring in a home, how is it they know which spouse or parent is responsible for the abuse without the informant telling them?” Dr. Flynn asks. He looks around the table, waiting for one of us to answer, but when we don’t, he continues. “The victim will always try to protect their abuser. You’ll find wives putting themselves in between the police and their husbands, trying to shield them. You see children clinging to their abusive parent, trying to hold onto them so they can’t be taken away. You saw it in the trial. She was facing a prison sentence, he protected her, and she rewarded him for it. That is the cycle. It is essential that we avoid triggering that defensive mechanism because it will drive him back to her.”

“So, what? She just never faces any consequences for what she’s done? She’s just off the hook, just like that?” I ask. “I’m not interested in being in any kind of personal relationship with him if he’s still involved with her. She’s disgusting and a child molester and the fact that he would allow someone like that to be in his life, is inexcusable to me.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, but before we get to the point where we can focus on her consequences, we need to completely sever the bond between Christian and Elena. If we move too quickly, the break will be traumatizing for him. He has to be ready for it or you’ll see the same outcome you saw with the trial. He’ll go back to her.”

“So what do we do to break the bond?” Elliot asks.

“All you can do is let him know that you are here to support him, reward any behavior that shows he’s moving out of the cycle, share your feelings with him, encourage him to try new things outside of his dependence on Elena, and make sure he knows that you’ll always be there for him, no matter what. Even if he goes back to her,” Dr. Flynn says. “The rest we’ll work out in therapy.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I just… I can’t be supportive if he goes back to her. I can’t do it.”

“If we’re consistent and we really show him that we’re there for him, he won’t go back to her,” Dr. Flynn says. “But you have to remember that she is not going to give up her position of power without a fight and she knows how to play on his vulnerabilities. I know it can be hard to accept, but it is important to acknowledge that this will be difficult for Christian. But I assure you, in time, we will be able to get him away from her.”

“Thank you, Dr. Flynn,” Grace says. “You’ve given us a lot to consider and I think this will all be really helpful.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Dr. Flynn says. “Of course if any of you are struggling with what’s going on with Christian, I encourage you to come and see me and we can talk through what your feeling and see if we can’t work through it together. And… I’d really like it if you would make an appointment to come and speak with me in private, Anastasia.”

“Me?”

“Yes, I think your role in Christian’s recovery is very important and I’d like to talk to you about it more.”

“Okay…”

“Here’s my card,” He says, reaching into his wallet and then handing me his business card. “Call my office and make an appointment for whenever you’re available.”

“I will,” I promise, and he smiles at me and shakes my hand before Grace leads him out of the dining room.

The housekeeper returns and begins clearing the table so we all get up and file out towards the living room. I watch Grace thank Dr. Flynn once more as he disappears through the front door and then turn to sit on the couch, but as everyone settles down around the living room, I notice Carrick slip out the back door alone.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Kate, who looks at me curiously as I walk around the sectional and follow Carrick through the backdoor. I find him leaning over the railing of the back deck, looking out over the yard and pool with a cigarette in his hand.

“You smoke now?” I ask, as I come to stand next to him.

“No, it just feels like something to do… I don’t know…” He says, and he flicks the cigarette away and into the pool below.

“You know there was a time when I was so angry at him that I thought I hated him,” I say quietly. “But then I realized, anger was just the surface emotion. I love him, but he hurt me and it’s easier to be angry than to deal with the pain. So, I know how you feel.”

“I’m not mad, Anastasia. Well, not at him,” He says.

“You’re not?”

“No. I’m mad at myself. She did this to him for four years, while he was living in my house. I not only didn’t see it, didn’t protect him from it, but I sent him over there. I encouraged it. I have one job as a parent, and I didn’t protect my son. You know, when you have kids, you just want what’s best for them. You want them to be safe, you want them to be healthy and happy and you want them to be successful. Christian fought me so hard on college and I wouldn’t even listen, and now every day I face the reality that if I had just given him the money, if I had believed in him just a little bit, none of this would have happened. Now every time I read an article about how successful he’s been or when I see the amazing things that he’s accomplished because of what she gave him… It’s infuriating. It’s like having your biggest regret shoved in your face over, and over, and over again, and it’s ripping me apart. I know that I’m taking that anger out on Christian, and I shouldn’t, but I just don’t know how to deal with this.”

“You knew, didn’t you?” I ask. “Before he told you last week… you knew why he did it.”

“Yes, I knew almost instantly. I was doing Andrew’s divorce and he called me the minute that transfer was made. It’s my fault he lied. I could have given him the money, and I didn’t.”

“It wouldn’t have been any different. If you had given him the money, he wouldn’t have gotten away from her for those few months that he did and nothing would have changed between them. You would have never found out and there’s a good chance it would still be going on.”

“And he would have never met you. You’re the only reason he got out of it at all. You brought him back from the edge.”

“Yeah, apparently not far enough,” I reply.

“You did what you could, Ana,” He sighs. “It looks the doctor is right and we just weren’t prepared to deal with what she did to him.”

“Well now we have a chance to start over,” I say, and he nods. We sit there in silence, staring out at the lake, which sparkles with moonlight.

“You know, this whole thing has made the situation with Mia and Juilliard impossible for me. All my instincts tell me she needs to go to school. She doesn’t have the same kind of intuition or the focus that Christian has that has enabled him to be successful without a degree, but then I wonder if I’m just making the same mistakes all over again. You know you make plans for your kids, you have an idea of what to do to prepare them for the real world. You get them in the best preparatory schools, you help them with their homework, get them tutors, foster a desire to build a career, and then you send them off to the best college you can. Elliot did it fine, but Christian and now Mia…”

“Elliot loves being an engineer and he needed school for that,” I interrupt. “Christian loves business and he didn’t need school. Mia loves to dance and she’s asking for what she needs to be successful at what she loves to do.”

“Yes, but Engineering and Business are careers. Dancing has a shelf life. She’ll always be just a few years or one injury away from having nothing, and then I’ll have to face the reality of letting yet another one of my kids down. My job is to prepare her for life. I don’t want to fail her the way I failed Christian.”

“I don’t know what the answer is,” I tell him. “Harvard is an amazing school, but it’s not for everyone.”

“I know,” He says, and, as he turns to look back out over the water, the door opens behind us.

“Hey, Ana,” Kate says. “I’ve got work in the morning so I’ve got to head back home. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” I tell her. Carrick turns to hug me goodbye and, after promising I’ll see him soon, I head back into the house with Kate. Mia’s back downstairs now so I’m able to wish everyone a goodnight before we head out the door and back out to Kate’s Mercedes.

When I’m back in my apartment, and I’ve hung all the clothes that Kate has brought for me in the closet, and picked out the outfit I’m going to wear tomorrow, I crawl into bed and stare out at the Seattle skyline. As I lie there, thinking over everything Dr. Flynn said over dinner tonight, my mind starts to drift and I begin to wonder briefly what’s in store for me on my first day at GEH. What it’s going to feel like when, for the first time in two years, I see Christian again. Am I prepared to do the things Dr. Flynn has asked of all of us, and will the boundaries I’ve tried to keep up since we’ve started talking again hold firm when he’s no longer just a voice on the phone, but actually standing in front of me?

You’re here to work. I remind myself again, and then I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

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