When I get home from work Monday night, I’m exhausted. I’ve spent my entire work day pouring over expense and sales analysis reports, which have been compiled because we’re getting close to fiscal year end and Jack and I are going to have to do an in depth review and presentation for Ros and Christian in a few weeks. I feel like I need a glass of wine to unwind from the hours of tedious work so, before I go into the bedroom to change out of my work clothes, I walk into the kitchen and pour a glass of Sauvignon blanc. Gail is making something that smells amazing on the stove, so I hang back to chat with her, while also trying to subtly take a peek at what’s for dinner. I can’t remember, but I don’t think I had lunch this afternoon, and now that I’m surrounded by the enticing smell of the fresh vegetables and chicken roasting in the oven, I’m ravenous.

While she stirs the pot of mushrooms and chicken stock, she tells me about her weekend in Portland with her sister and how much she enjoyed watching her great niece, who just celebrated her second birthday, playing with sparklers and watching the fireworks.

“It would be so nice to have a little one to look after around here,” She says, sighing longingly, and I choke slightly on my sip of wine.

“What?” I cough and she gives me a slightly guilty smile.

“I’m sorry, Miss Steele. Dr. Grey was over here to drop off the results of Mia’s drug test earlier and I told her I’d put it out there…”

“Wait.. what?” I ask, interrupting her with surprise. “Drug test?”

“Oh yes. It’s in that envelope,” She nods to a large white envelope resting on the counter with the Northwest Hospital letterhead stamped in the upper left hand corner. I reach out to pick it up, but just as my fingers close around the thick paper, the elevator pings and Christian and Ryan walk into the foyer. He gives me my favorite, easy, breathtaking smile when he sees me, and he slides his iPhone into his pocket as he crosses the great room to wrap me in his arms.

“Hey,” I greet him, but instead of speaking he simply presses his lips tenderly into mine. I kiss him back, feeling the warmth from his lips rush through me like an analgesic washing away all the tension left in my body from the long day. I moan appreciatively into his lips, and he gives me a small, adoring smile before leaving another small, quick kiss against the tip of my nose.

“Hey,” He says, at last.

“Dinner should be ready in about 20 minutes, Mr. Grey,” Gail says as she pours the mushroom mixture she’s prepared into the baking pan with the chicken and then slips it back into the oven. Christian thanks her, and she takes her apron off and then disappears through the other side of the kitchen to give us some privacy.

“Twenty minutes…” Christian says, giving me a mischievous look. “Now what could we do to kill the next twenty minutes?”

“Enjoy a glass of wine together,” I say sweetly, “Would you like one?”

“Please,” He says, and I disentangle myself from his arms to get him a glass, or myself one I suppose, since he actually picks up and begins to drink out of my glass. I shake my head, laughing quietly to myself, and pour a second glass of wine.

“What is this?” Christian asks and I look over to see him holding up the envelope on the counter.

“Your mom brought it over, it’s Mia’s drug test results.”

Instantly, he sets down his wineglass and begins tearing into the envelope, fishing out the paper inside, and scanning it quickly. But, once he gets through it, he frowns. Not with disappointment, but with confusion.

“What does it say?” I ask.

“It says she’s… clean,” He replies, clearly surprised.

“Well, that’s good then, right? It means we were wrong.”

“Or there was enough time between the last time she used and when she took this test for it to clear her system. The weekend on the yacht gave her at least… 72 hours, which means that she’d turn up clean for Amphetamines, Barbiturates, Cocaine… basically anything that’s not weed or Benzos…”

“Or she’s not doing drugs, Christian,” I say emphatically but he shakes his head.

“We’ll just keep testing her. Maybe I’ll ask Mom to take her back to have her hair tested.”

I grimace as I look down at my glass of wine, knowing I’m not going to change his mind but also thinking it’s ridiculous to stay fixated on catching her doing something wrong, rather than trying to prevent anything from happening again. She should be going in to see Flynn, she actually seemed to accept and welcome that idea, but I don’t even know if there has been an appointment made for her yet. Besides, I’m not convinced the problem is drugs… She’s been acting off all summer, but not in a way that would make me think she’s picking up a drug habit. She’s being selfish and acting like a spoiled sixteen year old girl, but there’s rationality, however skewed, behind her behavior. That doesn’t feel like drug addiction to me…

“How was your day?” Christian asks, changing the subject and picking up his wine again. He reaches out to take my hand in his, brushing his thumb along the backs of my fingers affectionately, and I smile at him.

“It was fine,” I answer. “Long, mostly and I had a lot of tedious work to do. I’m getting ready for an end of year review with the CEO.”

“That sounds stressful,” Christian says, with a crooked smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I hear he’s a tyrant.”

“Ugh… the worst,” I groan dramatically. “But, he is really nice to look at.”

I giggle as he yanks on my hand and pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me again. I playfully rub my nose against his, and he chuckles slightly as he reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair out of my face.

“How was your day?” I ask him.

“Productive. My father called this afternoon to tell me Elena Lincoln tried to counter the offer my mother put in with $1.6 million, which means she has more money than I thought she did. And since I pay her and I was well aware of her financial situation before I took over the salons, it looks like she’s probably stealing from me. But, Andrew Lincoln secured a government contract to cut timber in some overgrowth in the Cascades, which is going to make Lincoln Timber a lot of money. So, there’s that.”

I frown, not understanding why that’s a good thing. “But doesn’t a lucrative contract mean that he could turn his business around and keep you from being able to buy him out?”

“It could… if I didn’t have several contacts on the Washington State Appropriations Committee. But I do, so his contract will be tied up until I take control of his company and then it will be my contract. It’s going to mean an extremely high profit margin for my manufacturing division and that should trickle into Grey Construction, save me some money on my new building.”

“That sounds kind of shady…” I say, carefully.

“It’s not illegal, Anastasia,” He says, and then he sighs. “Mergers and Acquisitions is a vicious world, but it’s what I do, and I do it well. If it makes you feel better, I was told today that the Lincoln Timber labor union is eight days away from going on strike because of unfair labor practices, all of which will be corrected when GEH takes over.”

“Well, that’s something,” I say, but the uncertainty I feel in my stomach doesn’t disappear at his reassurance. I’m not really sure how I feel about Christian using back door deals with politicians to take someone’s company from them… Even if Andrew Lincoln isn’t exactly boss of the year.

“I forgot to tell you this morning,” Christian says, interrupting my thoughts, “but Ros will be coming over tonight. In about an hour or so… We’ve got some things to go over for end of year, and we have to start separating Esclava from GEH. We’ll probably be busy for a few hours, at least.”

“Oh, well… that’s okay. I can entertain myself. Maybe I’ll call Kate and see if she wants to come over.”

He nods and then looks over at the clock illuminated over the stove. “We still have fourteen minutes… and you’ve finished your wine.”

“Whatever will we do?” I ask innocently, and then giggle as he raises his eyebrows at me suggestively. He quickly silences me with a kiss and as I surrender to him, I wrap my arms over his shoulders and pull myself closer to him. His fingers close around my sides and his thumbs brush softly over my hip bones as I open my mouth for his tongue, which begins to move against mine in an insistent and yes, arousing way. I quickly lose myself in the feel of him, the taste of him, allowing it to cloud my mind until I’m melting into him, and he holds me flush against him, clinging to me as though he’s afraid to let me go.

“Bedroom,” He whispers against my lips, and with that one, simple word, everything in the outside world falls out of my mind, and leaves only room for the desire I feel for this beautiful man. He pulls my arms away from his neck and twists his fingers with mine as he turns to lead me down the hallway to our bedroom, pulling me a little too insistently behind him. Heat flushes to my cheeks as I anticipate what’s waiting for me just on the other side of the bedroom door, and the second I’m over the threshold, his arms envelop me, and his lips come crashing down on mine again.

I moan into him as I pull at his suit jacket, letting it fall unceremoniously to the ground, before my fingers start work on the knot in his tie. He tugs at the zipper on the back of my dress, and then untangles my hands from his shirt so that he can pull it over my shoulders and then down past my breasts and hips. He unclasps my bra and pulls it off of me, freeing my breasts, which he then reaches out to cup with each of his hands.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He whispers, staring down at them reverentially.

I reach up into his hair, pulling his lips back down to mine, but he only kisses me for a second before he pushes me gently back onto the bed. With quick grace, he removes his shirt, and then undoes his belt and the buttons and zipper on his pants. I bite down on my bottom lip, staring up at him hungrily as I watch him undress, and then he falls to his knees so he can wrap his fingers around the lace band of my panties.

He eases them down slowly, his fingers brushing lightly against my thighs as he goes. I feel a tremble rock through me as I see his heated, burning gaze staring into me, at the apex of my thighs, with unconcealed hunger.

“Oh baby,” He says, his voice thick with desire. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

“Christian,” I moan. My thighs clench together as the need I feel in my core begins burning hotter, but he moves his hands to my thighs and gently spreads them open again. I let out a sharp breath as I feel his lips press against me, his tongue bathing me as he drags it purposefully up my center and then swirls it tenderly around my clitoris. I writhe against him, reveling in the feel of his mouth, and yet still greedily wanting more. I want all of him in this moment, to be consumed by him, and he’s quick to oblige my unspoken desires.

His strong hands grip tightly to my sides as he pushes me further onto the bed. He climbs over the top of me, leaving quick, sweet kisses against my skin as he works his way up my body. I feel his erection press against me as his tongue brushes against my lower lip, silently requesting entrance. I open my mouth for him, kissing him deeply as blood pulses loud and heavy in my ears and yearning runs real, and rampant through my veins.

He begins to sink into me, slowly, and once he’s buried entirely inside of me, he stills. I moan, and clench around him, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he focuses on my mouth, his lips and tongue dancing tantalizingly with mine as we taste and relish in each other. His hands tangle into my hair, holding me in place while his fingers gently massage my scalp.

When he finally starts to move, it’s slow and so, so sweet. My body bows, my breasts pressing tightly against his chest, as we move against each other, with each other, as one. His mouth breaks away from mine and his teeth begin to graze my jaw and then my chin, before he leans down to press his lips against my neck, softly sucking at the sensitive spot beneath my ear. His pace, though slow and purposeful, pushes us both higher and higher towards the edge of ecstasy until we’re completely absorbed in one another, hanging onto the edge by only the tips of our fingers. Our gasps and moans mingle together, filling the room around us, and as I listen to the strangely musical cacophony, my body begins to heat with the promise of a quickly approaching release.

I’m so in love with this man, and in this moment, lost in the throws of passion with him, I’m nearly consumed by the depth of that love. We’ve been through so much together, through joy and sorrow, through pain and blissful, perfect happiness, and we’ve come out the other side stronger and more resilient than ever. We’ve finally gotten to the place where I feel like I can surrender myself entirely to the connection between us that feels like a powerful cosmic force, and as I allow myself to succumb, I fall freely over the edge and detonate around him, feeling my body fill to the brim with welcome, cathartic pleasure as I cry out his name.

His breathing is harsher as he feels me coming around him, and just after he whispers a profound confession of his love for me into my ear, he reaches his climax and pours himself into me. Our bodies relax in unison as we come down from the high together. His face is still buried in my neck and my arms and legs are wrapped around him, holding him as tightly to me as I can manage. His lips move to mine, kissing me tenderly, and reminding me once more of the depth of his feelings for me.

I look up into his gray eyes, feeling sated and relaxed, completely willing to lay here with him for the rest of the night, but I know that Ros is coming soon and so that is just not in the cards for tonight.

“Dinner?” He asks, in a low voice, and I nod. He pulls out of me, and crawls off the bed, and after we’ve dressed again, he takes my hand and leads me back out to the great room.

Ros shows up only a few minutes after we finish the chicken marsala Gail has prepared, and after a brief hello, she and Christian disappear back into his office where they will remain locked away for, what I assume is going to be, the rest of the night. I try to get Kate to come over, but apparently Elliot has officially accepted that he’s in Seattle for good so they’re out looking at houses with a realtor together. I try to read, but I’m too keyed up to be comfortable with just my own company right now. It makes me miss Luke, and how nice it was always having him around when he was my CPO. So, before too long, I find myself meandering back to Taylor’s office and lurking in the doorway as he checks the security footage displayed on the monitors in front of him.

“Yes, Miss Steele?” He asks.

“You wanna hang out?” I ask, hopefully, and to my surprise, he lets out a low laugh and then motions for Ryan to take his seat. As he makes his way out of the office, he picks up a heavy looking, wooden box.

“Do you know how to play chess, Miss Steele?” He asks, and I nod happily.

“Yeah, my dad loves it.”

“Well then, let’s see how well he taught you,” Taylor says, and he leads me out to the dining room table to set up the board.

I’m either really rusty, or Ray hasn’t taught me as well I thought he did, because very quickly, my pieces are lined up on the side of the board while Taylor still has a full arsenal defending his king. I frown down at the blank spaces between our pieces, trying to decide what the best move is from here but, unfortunately, I’m finding that nearly everything I do will lead to me losing another man. Still, despite the crushing defeat I know is inevitable, there’s a welcome feeling of comfort sitting here playing with him. The way he concentrates very hard on the board before he makes his move and the small, almost vindictive laugh he lets out everytime I make a move that plays directly into his hands, reminds me a lot of being home with Ray. In fact, being around Taylor in general gives me the sense of comfort that I associate with my father. Perhaps this is why I’ve felt a little more at ease since he’s taken over as my CPO.

“No, don’t worry about it, Mom. I’ll find her,” Christian’s voice comes from the hallway, and both Taylor and I turn towards the sound with interest. He’s just hanging up the phone when he comes into view and I watch him take a deep, steadying breath before walking over to the table where Taylor and I are sitting. “Mia snuck out of my parent’s house. I need you to find her.” He says tersely.

“Right away, sir,” Taylor says, and he gets up from the table and heads for his office. I get out of my seat, looking at him with concern and wrapping my arms around him comfortingly. He lets me hold him for only a second though before the leans down to kiss the top of my head and then gently pushes me away.

“I’m going to call Sawyer and send him down to the spot he picked her up at on Friday. If she’s down there again… I don’t know, maybe he can head her off or find out who she’s buying from.”

I nod and then watch him take out his phone and then move across the room after Taylor. It occurs to me then that Ros is still back in Christian’s office alone, so I make my way down the back hallway to see if I can help her at all while Christian is busy trying to find Mia.

The office is a mess, with piles of papers stacked all over his desk and a few scattered around the floor. Ros is sitting in the chair across from Christian’s, carefully reading through a document while chewing absentmindedly on the end of a highlighter.

“Hey,” I say to get her attention and she smiles when she looks up at me.

“Hey, Ana. What’s going on with Mia? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s probably not as bad as he thinks it is. You know how Christian panics… I wouldn’t be surprised if Mia just wanted to hang out with her friends but couldn’t because she was grounded. They’ll probably find her at a mall or something when they eventually track her down.”

“Mmm,” Ros hums as she turns her attention back to the document in her hand.

“Can I help you with anything?” I ask and she actually looks relieved.

“Actually, yes,” She says, reaching for a stack of papers next to her and picking up another highlighter. “Will you go through these and highlight any of the line items from Esclava? They’re usually marked with the ESC prefix, but sometimes there are miscellaneous items that got missed. If you look through the purchaser column for any instances of Elena Lincoln’s name, you should get all of them.”

“Okay,” I agree, and I take the chair next to her and begin looking through the list. I don’t find very many instances of Elena’s name. Mostly, it’s just Christian or Ros listed in the purchaser column, with a few of the other department heads scattered throughout, but Elena’s name appears the least. I do note though that her miscellaneous expenses do seem to be larger dollar amounts than what the other department heads request…

“I hope I didn’t miss any…” I say hesitantly as I hand the list back to Ros and she looks briefly at it before nodding.

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t purchase much so you shouldn’t find her name on there very often. It’s one of the things I’m going to miss about Esclava. High revenue, low overhead. Most of the profit that comes in from the salons goes directly into cash reserves. That’s actually how we paid for the security system overhaul Christian did a few weeks ago. It was nice having something profitable that didn’t require huge upfront investments to keep it growing and bringing in money… It’s almost a shame to let it go. Almost.”

“Is that normal?” I ask her, trying not to sound too suspicious. “For salons to be that profitable, I mean.”

“Oh god no, that’s definitely the Grey Touch at work. When Christian told me he wanted to buy the salons, I thought it was going to be a money pit, but he proved me wrong. He always has a plan and he always knows best in the end.”

“Hmmm,” I frown, but I don’t get to press her further because my phone begins vibrating on the desk next to me.

“Mia?” Ros asks, only half interested as she turns the page of the document in her hand.

“No, Luke…” I reply and I give her a brief smile as I get out of my chair to take the call in the hallway. “Hey, Luke. Did you find her?”

“No, but you need to get down here,” He says tersely.

“Down where?”

“Beacon Hill. I’m on Dearborn and Rainier.”

“I thought you were supposed to be looking for Mia?”

“I drove around but I didn’t find her. What I did find was Elena Lincoln, and, trust me, you need to get down here right now.”

My breath catches in my throat as I stand there, mind whirling. “What did you find?” I whisper.

“I think I know why her salons are so profitable, and it’s not legal. But I need proof and to get proof, I need help.”

“I can’t…” I groan. “I can’t go anywhere without security, Luke. I promised I wouldn’t.”

“So bring Taylor with you, he’s more help to me than you are. Just don’t tell Mr. Grey.”

“Why?”

“Because if this is what I think it is, we need to keep him as far away as possible. We don’t want him to be implicated in any way.”

“Oh my god… it’s that bad?”

“Maybe, but I need to get a better look at what’s going on to know for sure. Get down here.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll text you when I’m on the way.”

He starts to say something, but I see Christian coming around the corner so I hang up the phone and try not to look guilty. “Did you find Mia?” I ask him.

“She left her phone at home,” He says bitterly. “But we will. I’m just going to go in and tell Ros that we’re going to have to pick this up tomorrow. I’m going over to my parents’ to wait for Mia to get home.”

“Do you want me to come?” I ask, nervously. I want to be there for him if he wants me to be, but I also don’t want to miss whatever it is Luke may have found… Thankfully though, Christian shakes his head.

“I don’t know how late I’ll be, and I don’t want to keep you up. Will you be okay here alone, or do you want me to send Kate over?”

“No, I’ll be okay. I’m bound and determined to beat Taylor at chess at least once tonight.” I say, smiling at him to try and cover the guilt I feel from lying. He doesn’t notice though, because he nods and then leans down to kiss me quickly on the lips before walking past me into his office. I hang back in the great room as Christian apologizes to Ros for wasting her time while they walk to the elevator where Ryan is waiting, ready to go. The moment the doors close behind them, I hurry forward into Taylor’s office, but when I get there, I find him already on the phone.

“Yeah, I have it,” He says distractedly into the phone as he begins to put several things into a black, canvas bag. He turns to look at me, his jaw tight, and then turns his attention back to his phone conversation. “I’ll be there twenty minutes.”

He hangs up without any kind of salutation and looks very seriously at me. “I need to get downtown, but I’m under strict instructions not to leave you alone.”

“You mean… you’re going to let me come with you?” I ask hopefully and he nods.

“I don’t really believe this is particularly dangerous, just something we need to do without being seen. I think you can handle that, if you do what I ask you to do. Now, go change into something dark, but not obvious. We’re not in a spy movie, Anastasia. Keep it casual.”

“Okay,” I tell him and I turn around and quickly head for mine and Christian’s bedroom. Pulling a pair of dark colored jeans from my drawer and finding a long sleeved black t-shirt to go with it, I change as quickly as possible. Once I have my chucks laced up, I put my hair in a ponytail and then head back out to the foyer where Taylor is waiting for me. He’s changed too, into a pair of black jeans and a dark, navy hoodie, and the black canvas bag is draped over his shoulder.

“Ready?” He asks and I nod. “Then let’s go.” He pushes the button to call the elevator and then ushers me inside. I expect him to lead me to the Lincoln, but he pulls out the keys for his own car instead. I climb into the front seat and then sit anxiously as he pulls out of the parking garage and heads to South Seattle.

There is a remarkable difference between this neighborhood and the one where I live with Christian. The buildings are run-down, some of them vacant and boarded up. There are empty concrete lots lining the street that are filled with trash and the walls surrounding them are covered in graffiti. Taylor pulls along the curb and puts the car in park, then scans the area around us, his gaze lingering on the bar across the street, before turning to look very seriously at me.

“If I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?” He asks.

“Yes,” I reply, and he nods and then takes his bag out of the back seat. We get out of the car and walk along the sidewalk, keeping our heads down and saying nothing until we come up along side a black SUV. He stops and reaches out to open the back door for me and I look at him curiously but get inside when he gives me a sharp, subtle nod.

“Hey, Ana,” A voice says behind me and I jump, but catch my breath when I see Luke in the third row behind me, typing on a laptop. Taylor climbs through the door on the opposite side of me and throws the bag down on the floor at my feet.

“Okay, what do you have?” He asks, and Luke turns the screen of the laptop towards us. It looks like security camera footage of a dive bar, or a pool hall, maybe? There is a large square room in the picture and it looks like there is a bar along the far wall with several padded bar stools pushed up against it. It’s fairly empty and as I stare at the bartender leaning against the bar talking to his one and only patron, I feel a little deflated. What the hell does this have to do with Elena?

“How many?” Taylor asks.

“Three,” Luke replies, “It’s been a slow night.”

“And how do you get in?”

“My best guess is through the back office. I pulled the building plans from the city hall website and this bar was used as a speakeasy during prohibition. There’s a door back there that conceals a staircase which leads down to the underground rooms.”

“No security footage from the basement?”

“I can’t get a signal for anything, and honestly, I doubt it. If I was running an illegal underground business, I probably wouldn’t want cameras around.”

“Illegal underground business?” I ask, but they ignore me.

“So we’re going to have to get in there,” Taylor infers, and I look between them, thoroughly lost.

“What is going on?” I ask, “What’s down there?”

Luke looks over at Taylor, waiting for confirmation, and when he nods, Luke turns back to me. “When I was digging into Elena’s financial information, trying to find a transaction that could link her to TMZ, I starting seeing some things that didn’t add up. Well, not really… everything was just too perfect and normal. The only deposits came from GEH, and the only transactions were automatic bill payments for her mortgage or utilities, or the occasional charge to a restaurant or store, but nothing extravagant. There weren’t any charges for vacations, lavish shopping sprees, expensive spa retreats… All things I know Elena Lincoln loves and all things that I know she’s had to pay for in the past few months. Then I noticed that all the accounts I was looking into were opened before her divorce was finalized in 2009.”

“That’s only a year old, why would that matter?” I ask.

“Because in 2009 her name was Elena Lincoln, but that’s not the case anymore. I did a background check and pulled her credit report and found out that after her divorce was finalized, she changed her name back to Elena Kelly, her maiden name, but she didn’t change any of her old financial information. When I started looking into Elena Kelly, that’s when interesting things began popping up. She’s been using her married name in public to hide a second business she’s been running underground.”

“What?”

“That bar?” He says, pointing to the run down building Taylor parked across from, and then gesturing back down to the surveillance footage on his laptop. “This bar. It’s owned by Elena Kelly.”

“Okay, so she owns a bar. Are you saying she stole the money from Christian to open it?”

“No…”

“Well, then, if she’s not stealing from Christian to keep it afloat, or whatever, then why does it matter if she owns a bar?” I ask.

“Because it isn’t a bar,” Luke says, and he pulls his laptop back to him. I sit there, anxiously waiting while his fingers move furiously over the keys of the computer and when he turns it back to me, there is a website open on the screen on some browser I’ve never seen before for what looks like some kind of nightclub or something called Kink.

“What is this?” I ask, and he looks at me like I’m being obtuse.

“It’s a BDSM club, Anastasia. It’s a place where men can go and pay to have sex with submissive women, and it’s located in the basement of that bar.”

“How did you find this?” I ask.

“It’s on the dark web. She’s gone through great lengths to keep this place a secret. But she’s not as good at it as she thinks she is.”

My mouth drops open as realization begins to dawn on me and my brain begins to work through the impact of Luke’s words. “Oh my god… she’s running a prostitution ring.”

“And she’s laundering the money she makes through Esclava,” Luke says. “That’s why her salons are so profitable. I went and looked through the financials of the salons again, and while they check out on the surface, if you really did the math to compare the number of transactions they have in a day with the number of stylists she has in the building at one time, they’d have to be turning our haircuts and dye jobs every seven minutes. When is the last time you got a haircut from a high end salon in seven minutes? Plus 65% of the transactions that go through her registers, are cash. How many people in downtown Seattle do you think are using cash for purchases over $100 instead of a credit card?”

“So what are we doing here?” I ask excitedly. “Let’s take this to Christian! This is better than just selling photos to a magazine. This is a felony! A serious felony. She could go to jail for… well, years, at least.”

“This isn’t a registered business, Ana. Everything that we have to prove its existence can be taken down in an instant or proved to be circumstantial evidence. We need something concrete,” Taylor says. “That’s why we’re here. I need to get inside and get ahold of something that will not only prove the legitimacy of the business, but that will implicate Mrs. Lincoln and hopefully prove that she’s laundering the profits.”

“So how do we get inside?” I ask. “Is there a secret password or something at the door?”

“We don’t get inside,” Luke says. “But there is back entrance Taylor could get through, if you can jimmy a lock and do it without being seen.”

“Security footage?” Taylor asks, serious now.

“Two cameras on the back door. I can disrupt the feed but for only thirty seconds, and I won’t be able to tell what’s on the other side of the door.” Luke replies.

“I’ll take care of it,” Taylor says. Luke shows him the layout of the building according the schematics he downloaded off the internet and they come up with a plan for entry. It’s fascinating to listen to. I don’t care what Taylor said earlier, this feels exactly like a spy movie to me. When the plan is set, Taylor reaches into the bag in the front seat and pulls out a radio and a small earpiece that is hard to notice once he puts it in. He fixes a square, black box, to the strap of the bag and then places it over his shoulder.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Body cam,” He replies. “Stay in the car with Luke. I’ll be back in no more than 30 minutes. If we lose communication for any reason, call the police.”

Luke nods and I give him an encouraging smile as he steps out of the back of the car. We watch nervously after him as he casually crosses the street and then disappears into the shadows around a convenience store three buildings down from the bar he’s supposed to get into. There’s a nerve wracking minute or so of silence, and then his low, gravelly voice comes over the radio in Luke’s hand.

“I’m around the corner. Kill the feed,” He says tersely and Luke starts typing on the keyboard again, concentrating very hard, before picking up the radio and saying, “You’re good.”

I climb into the backseat with Luke and we both stare anxiously at the blank computer screen for the next thirty seconds and when the feed comes back on, we can’t see Taylor.

“Is he in?” I ask and Luke nods.

“He’d tell us if he didn’t get in. Now, we wait…”

The minutes feel like they drag on for hours as I oscillate between staring at the computer screen and staring out the window at the bar. A few more men walk in through the front door, which is good because when Luke switches back to the interior security footage, we can see Elena upstairs. He assures me that means it should be easier for Taylor to get in without being seen. Still, he keeps looking down at the clock in his dash and as we get closer and closer to the 30 minute deadline, I see his cool facade start to falter. What are we going to do if this doesn’t work? Will the police be able to find the evidence needed for us to proceed or is this a situation that would call for a warrant? And if they did have to get one, how likely would it be that Elena could clean everything up in time to avoid being caught? I don’t know…

Thankfully, with three minutes to spare, we hear Taylor’s voice come through the radio. “I’m at the door, kill the feed.” He says quietly, and once again Luke does whatever he does to cut out the surveillance footage.

“Go,” Luke says into the radio and again, we sit in silence until Taylor slides into the back seat of the SUV.

“Did you get it?” Luke asks and Taylor smiles.

“Oh, I got it. She’s a fucking idiot. I got her entire book of business off the computer in her office, including hundreds of documented cash transactions to Esclava.” He holds up a small USB drive, his eyes glinting victoriously at it.

“Excellent,” Luke says, and he too begins smiling broadly. “Then let’s get this back to Grey so we can put this bitch away.”

“With pleasure,” Taylor says, and we get out of the SUV so that we can make our way back to Taylor’s car. As we walk towards the bar, I feel a very vindictive sense of victory wash over me as I stare at it, but my selfish celebration is cut a little short when we hear the loud bang of a door slamming open followed by the distant echos of a woman yelling. Taylor grabs on to me and yanks me roughly behind a car parked against the curb to shield us from view, and as we kneel down out of sight, I ease myself up to look through the car’s windows at the scene unfolding in the alley across the street from us.

“Get your ass back inside, I’m not going to tell you again!” It’s Elena and she’s positively fuming at a small, brown haired girl, who is turned away from me, but who I can see is shaking.

“I’m not doing it. You said I wouldn’t have to do it!” The girl screams back at her and her voice is so garbled with tears it’s hard to hear her from across the street.

“Oh don’t be naive,” Elena spits down at her coldly. “I said we would take it slow but this is the nature of the business and it’s time you got on board with that. You knew this was coming and I’ve given you plenty of time to prepare yourself.”

“No! I’m not doing it! Please!” The girl screams as she crumples to the ground and begins sobbing into her hands.

I feel a deep ache inside of me as, once again, I’m confronted with Elena’s heartless, brutal demeanor being targeted at someone who doesn’t have the power to stand up for themselves. I have to fight the urge to get up and go to the aid of the girl, and I start shaking as I watch Elena yelling at her, demeaning her in full view of the street. There is an overwhelming feeling of impotence surging through me because I can’t do anything to stop what’s happening. I know the best way to help the girl is for us to get home and give what we have to Christian so that the business that this poor girl is caught up in goes away permanently. I don’t want Elena to know we know what’s going on, I don’t want to give her time to do anything to stop us…

But all of that goes out the window as I watch Elena yank harshly on the cowering girl’s arm, pulling her to her feet, and as the girl tries to twist out of her grip, I see her face.

I don’t even realize that I’ve gotten to my feet until I’ve already started to move towards them. It’s like my body is running on autopilot as I launch myself forward to put myself between Elena and the girl she’s wrestling with. Taylor’s hand reaches out to grab onto me, to try and pull me back behind the car with him, but I struggle out of his hold.

“Ana, stop! Get back here!” He commands me, but I don’t listen.

“I can’t,” I reply breathlessly. “It’s Mia!”

Next Chapter

I spend most of the next morning pacing back and forth on the third deck, waiting to see Charlie Tango gliding through the sky towards us. Christian left before I woke up this morning. Well, it was actually the ignition of the rotor blades on the helicopter that did wake me up, but it’s been hours since he left and there’s still no sign of him.

“You sure you don’t want breakfast?” Kate asks, her voice surprising me as I hadn’t heard her come up behind me.

“I’m fine,” I tell her.

“He’ll be back soon, Ana. Waiting up here isn’t going to make him get back any faster. Come have breakfast with us. Elliot wants to get out on the water early this morning, you should come with us.”

I turn to look at her and since I am a little hungry, her pleading gaze is able to sway me. Besides, she is right. I have no idea when Christian is going to be back. It could take him a while to even leave Seattle as I’m sure Mia isn’t going to be very happy after Luke practically yanked her off the street last night and held her hostage in Escala.

“Alright,” I sigh, but just as I turn to follow her inside, I hear the steady thrumming of helicopter blades in the distance. We stand back, shielding our faces from the wind that sprinkles us with sea spray, and give Christian a wide berth as he lowers Charlie Tango onto the yacht. The second the rotor blades switch off, the passenger’s side door opens, and Mia leaps out onto the deck, storming angrily towards us.

“Hey, Mia,” I greet her, but she ignores me, instead continuing inside. “Not good, huh?” I ask Christian as he comes up next to me.

“She hates me,” He sighs and I give him a sympathetic smile.

“Well, sometimes that happens when you step in to help someone who needs it,” He nods and then holds up a box for a 12 panel drug test.

“I need to find my mom,” He says, but he only takes one step before he turns back to face me, looking slightly awkward. “Oh, and… the next time you talk to Luke, tell him I said… thanks.”

“I will,” I reply, smiling, and then he turns to head inside, taking the stairs down to the 2nd deck two at a time. Kate wraps her arm through mine, squeezing it reassuringly, and then leads me forward after Christian.

I spend the entire day with Kate and my mom while the rest of the Greys negotiate their way through the hostage negotiation that is trying to talk to Mia. Grace goes in first, drug testing kit in hand and tries to appeal to Mia rationally. Unfortunately, the sound from Mia’s room travels very well through the open rooms of the yacht, so we hear everything from Mia arguing and fighting against everything her mom says, to Grace trying to keep calm as she expresses her anger and disappointment in Mia’s lies and their subsequent concern over the drug use she’s been hiding from them. We try to ignore them, Elliot and Carrick even attempt to spark up conversation, but Christian buries himself in a book on the sofa next to me, though, since he stares down at it for nearly 15 minutes without turning the page, I don’t think he’s actually reading.

“Mia, we’re trying to help you,” I hear Grace say, imploring now. “You don’t know how dangerous this path you’re going down is. I see it every day, believe me. You have to realize the kinds of devastating consequences this type of behavior can have. I love you too much to watch you have to go through this.”

“Jesus, Mom. You’re so overdramatic,” Mia replies bitterly.

“Overdramatic? Don’t you realize that this pattern of behavior is what led to Christian becoming your brother in the first place? His mother died because she made the same choices you’re making right now.”

“And you probably regret that, don’t you? Another imperfect kid screwing up what should be your perfect life. Dad cut Christian out the second he did something you didn’t approve of. Am I next?”

“Amelia Grey! Of course not, and how dare you say that to me. Your father and I have done everything that we can to provide you kids a loving, nurturing home and give you every opportunity you deserve,” Grace says firmly.

“Then why are all your children so fucked up?”

I feel my gut clench as I feel the blow of Mia’s words, and my heart aches for Grace. I quickly glance up at Elliot sitting across from me and can tell he’s uncomfortable as he looks down at his hands in his lap, but Christian just continues to stare impassively down at his book, listening intently so he doesn’t miss a single word. Carrick, however, gets out of his chair and walks angrily towards Mia’s room. A few seconds later, his shouts reverberate down the halls and soon, Grace comes out to the living room to join us with tears in her eyes.

“Mom…” Elliot says, getting off the couch and moving to wrap his mother in a hug.

“l’m sorry,” She says as she tries to stop herself from crying into Elliot’s t-shirt, while she listens to Carrick screaming and promising Mia she’ll never use her phone, her car, or see her friends again until she graduates high school. “You shouldn’t see this.”

“I’m not twelve anymore, Mom. It’s okay,” Elliot says as he leads Grace over to the couch. He sets her down and gets her a glass of water, which she drinks as Carrick storms angrily back into the room.

“You shouldn’t yell at her like that, Carrick,” Grace says quietly when he sits back in his chair, obviously still fuming, but he shakes his head.

“She doesn’t get to talk to you like that,” He says, picking up the paper he’d been reading before he got up.

“Well, screaming at her is not going to make her open up to us,” Grace replies, and she sets down her glass of water and gets off the couch. “I’m going to go try again.”

“Why don’t we take a break from the good cop/bad cop routine?” Elliot says, reaching out and pulling his mother back. “Trust me, it’s not going to help right now. Give her some time to think and calm down and it’ll be much easier to talk to her.”

“Yeah,” Kate agrees, nodding as she stands up. “This is supposed to be a fun, Fourth of July weekend. Let’s go get out on the water. I’m sure we can all imagine how much restraint it’s taken Elliot not to say the word jet ski’s this morning.”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to suggest it…” Elliot says innocently. “But since you brought it up.”

“Okay,” Carrick nods, though his voice still sounds a little unsure. “Maybe missing out on some fun will encourage her to drop the attitude and talk to us…”

“You go,” Christian says, finally setting the book down and then reaching over and picking up the drug test kit from its place on the table in front of his mom. “I’ll deal with Mia.”

“Christian, she just had her dad yell at her. Let’s just give her a minute before the yelling starts again,” Grace says.

“Oh, I’m not going to yell,” He says, and we all turn and watch him walk down the hallway, listening carefully and he opens the door to her room without knocking.

“Go away, Christian,” She says, and then suddenly her voice becomes more urgent. “Hey, what are you doing? Put me down! Christian, stop!”

A there is a loud crash and then the sound of a door slamming closed. “Pee in the cup, Mia. You’re not coming out until you do.”

And she doesn’t. Hours pass, the rest of us go on about our day, enjoying the water and the sunshine, but Mia never leaves the bathroom and Christian never leaves his post at her door. I go into the room every half an hour, trying to put an end to the stalemate, or at least to convince Christian to give someone else a turn so that he can go enjoy himself for a while, but he isn’t interested. He sits on the floor next to the bathroom door all day. I come in with dinner for both him and Mia around 6:30 and then sit there with him reading until past eleven, but nothing changes until Mia falls asleep on the fluffy rug on her bathroom floor and Christian finally gives in and puts her to bed.

The next morning, I wake up to Christian pacing back and forth across our living room floor, talking into the Satellite phone while Ros gives him a rundown of everything that has happened at GEH with him away over the last day and a half. His hair is ruffled, which isn’t hard to figure out why as almost the instant I notice it, his hand shoots up and begins running roughly through it. As he issues the long list of rapid fire instructions, most of which mean nothing to me except that I think they’re talking about Lincoln Timber, I sit up and stare at him, biting my lip apprehensively as I listen to the strain of stress in his voice. This weekend was supposed to be a relaxing few days away from work and the sale of Esclava, but it hasn’t been, especially with everything going on with Mia. I want to find a way to be able to help him unwind, at least for today, but before I come up with a way to even just convince him to leave Mia alone for a few hours, he hangs up the phone, tosses it aside, climbs back into the bed with me and begins attacking my lips with his.

It takes me by surprise, and I actually let out a small yelp, which is muffled by his lips, as he pushes me back into the bed. It takes only a second for me to catch up to him though and then succumb beneath his fervor. I feel a mounting sense of excitement building within me as I feel his hands move up my side towards my breast and for the first time in over two weeks, I have hope that this is more than just a kiss. Tentatively, I reach up and wrap my fingers in his hair, moaning into his mouth as he slips the straps of my camisole over my shoulders and yanks it down rather than over my head so he doesn’t have to break our kiss.

His erection presses into my leg and the muscles south of my navel clench in response. I arch my back, pressing my now naked breasts up into his t-shirt and as his lips break away from mine and begin moving south, I let out an exalted moan as I anticipate his mouth on my breast. But before I can even feel the gentle scrape of the stubble on his chin, he stops.

I look down at him and feel the jubilation deflate as I see the look of tortured hesitation on his face as he stares down at me. He closes eyes, shaking his head a little as his hands grip tightly to the sheets next to me in frustration.

“What can I do?” I whisper and he looks up at me, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know…” He replies disappointedly. “Look, Ana… I want to. I really fucking want to, I just…”

“I know,” I tell him, and as I watch him take a deep breath and then lean down to place a gentle kiss on the tops of either of my breasts, an idea pops into my mind. I bite down on my lip as I contemplate whether or not I should even bring it up, but if we’re going to get past this, and I know that we both really, really want to get past this, maybe it’s necessary.

“Can I try something?” I ask him. He looks up at me uncertainly, and for a minute, I don’t think he’s going to let me but after a moment of contemplation, he nods slowly but continues to look at me with suspicion in his eyes.

I push against him so that he rolls off of me and onto his back in the bed next to me, and I sit up, looking very purposefully in his eyes.

“I love you, Christian.”

“I love you, too,” He replies, still wary since he’s not sure what I’m doing.

“I want you to take off your pants,” I tell him and he opens his mouth to protest, I stop him. “I’m not going to touch you.”

He nods, but he still doesn’t move. So I pull my camisole over my head and tug my pajama shorts and panties off so that I’m naked next to him, and as his eyes drag hungrily over my body, he takes a deep breath and slowly lowers his pants and his boxers from his hips. I steel myself and lean down to kiss him, softly and deeply, pouring as much of my love into him as I physically possible, before I lie back, facing opposite of him so that my shoulders are touching his hips and my feet are resting against the headboard. Slowly, I move my leg over his chest and plant my foot on the other side of him, spreading myself so that he has an unobstructed view between my legs. His eyes widen, remaining fixed on me as I gingerly slide my hand down my stomach, over my pubic bone, and then brush my fingers lightly over my clitoris.

A small, involuntary gasp escapes my mouth and as my fingers begin to move, and I watch his lips for an oh so tantalizing “o” as he moans and reaches down for his erection. He continues watching my hand, his own hand moving faster when mine does, or stopping all together and gripping tightly whenever I stop and use my hips to grind against my fingers for friction.

“Inside, Anastasia,” He whispers huskily. “I want you to push your index finger inside of you.” I do as he asks, moaning as I feel the wet heat around my finger. “Another one,” He instructs me.

I slide another finger in to join the first, moving them in and out of me and swirling them around inside of me the way he always does. The feeling, combined with watching his penetrating gaze on me and seeing him pleasuring himself, has me quickly climbing to the edge of release.

The room is filled with the sound of our combined moaning as we lose ourselves, apart, but still very much together. I yearn to kiss him, to have any connection with him as inch towards my climax, but there’s no way I could reach him from here and with the promise of an orgasm currently lingering just out of reach I don’t want to move or do anything to stop it. My breathing comes harsher, louder, as Christian lets out a low growl in response.

“You’re so wet,” He says, his voice husky now and practically dripping with lust. “Are you getting close, baby?”

“Yes,” I whisper, because that’s all the strength I can coax from my voice in this instant.

“Look at me,” He says, and I open my eyes, and turn to look at his hand moving agilely, and efficiently over his erection. “No, Ana,” He growls, “Look at me.“

My eyes move to his, and I’m immediately entranced by his dark but purposeful stare. His gaze bares into me with fire hot intensity that seems to burn right through me, breaking through all barriers and eliminating everything around us. There is connection in it, the uniting factor that I’m craving and it’s enough to push me over the edge and into oblivion. My orgasm rips through me, hard enough that I can’t focus on maintaining the rhythm of my fingers in and out of me, and the second I stop, my hand is pushed away and Christian’s longer, thicker fingers replace them. The intrusion sends a new, longer wave of pleasure through me, and I begin to writhe over the bed sheets while his fingers move in and out of me, his other hand continuing to move steadily up and down his erection just a few inches from my face. My body shudders as I come down, and while I begin to melt into the mattress, I hear the broken staccato of his breathing and I realize he’s getting close now too.

“Touch me, Anastasia,” He says, a pleading note in his voice and I turn and immediately reach out, wrapping my hand softly around his and we move together for only a minute until he pulls his hand away entirely, leaving me to finish him on my own. I grip him firmly, moving my hand up and down the way I’ve watched him do for the past several minutes and he groans, pushing his hips up into my hand as his eyes focus on what I’m doing to him.

“That’s it, baby,” He says. “Oh, fuck, I’m almost there…” I tighten my hold on him, my tongue brushing hungrily across my bottom lip as I feel him swelling in my hand and I know he’s just about to erupt.

“Can I use my mouth?” I ask him.

“Yes! Oh god, yes,” He practically begs and immediately, I lean over and wrap my lips around him, my tongue swirling around the head of his erection before I pull him greedily into the back of my throat. It takes only seconds before he erupts and I feel warm, bitter liquid filling my mouth and oozing down my throat. Normally, this isn’t something I’m a huge fan of. It always sounds hotter in theory that it is in practice and semen isn’t the easiest liquid to swallow, but seeing the look on his face as he finally finds release pushes any reluctance I may have aside, leaving only room for me to indulge in and enjoy his pleasure.

When it’s over, and I swallow the last of his release, he pulls me up and kisses me, and despite the fact that even I can still taste him in my mouth, there is no hesitation in his kiss, or in his invading tongue.

“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth and again, he groans. He kisses me for what might be seconds or hours, I’m not sure as time seems to mean very little as I allow myself to be entirely wrapped up and consumed by him. When he does pull away though, he looks into my eyes, searching them, and then gives me a carefree and deeply loving smile.

“Thank-you, Anastasia,” He says. “For not giving up on me. I promise, from now until forever, I’m going to be the man you deserve.”

“You always have been,” I reply, and then I lower my lips to his once more.

When we finally leave our room that morning, I’m able to convince Christian to have breakfast with our families and then come out onto the deck to relax for a while, while Carrick tries again with Mia. He brings the book he was trying to read all day yesterday, and we spend a very peaceful afternoon under the sun and taking in the cool sea breeze as we make our way back towards Seattle so that we can watch the fireworks over the sound once it gets dark.

Two of the personnel Christian has hired to staff the yacht are professional masseuses, so while Kate and my mother enjoy a relaxing massage on the upper deck, Elliot and I discuss our hopes for the upcoming football season and Christian and Bob talk cars. I was right before when I told Bob that Christian would probably let him drive the Bugatti if he asked, and so, while Bob can barely contain his excitement at the prospect of getting to drive the car once we get back to Seattle, Christian goes into all the details and specifications that made him chose that model in the first place, and then all the aftermarket modifications he’s done to make it as fast and as quiet as possible.

“Alright, I’m done,” Carrick says, sounding slightly defeated as he shuffles out onto the deck and collapses into an open lounger. “If she doesn’t want to talk, she can just sit in there and pout until she does. I can’t fight with her anymore.”

“I’ll go,” Grace says, removing the ice pack from her eyes and sitting up, but Carrick reaches out to stop her.

“Maybe we need a different plan,” He tells her and she settles back into the chair. “We’re not getting anywhere and validating this temper tantrum she’s throwing is just ruining this weekend for everyone. I say, we let her stew in there alone and when we get back, we can take her in to see Dr. Flynn. She may not want to talk to us, but he seems to have a way with getting people to open up and getting to the root cause of the issue.”

“I don’t want to just leave her in there,” Grace says, “It doesn’t feel right having all of our family together but keeping her locked away in a room.”

“You can’t force her, Grace. We’re not keeping her anywhere, she’s secluded herself. We know she’s safe, we know she’s not going to get in trouble. If she wants space right now, maybe giving it to her isn’t the worst idea.”

Grace frowns but eventually she nods and settles back into her chair, taking a long drink of iced tea and picking up a magazine to read.

“You know, it’s kind of a shame Dr. Flynn doesn’t have kids,” Elliot muses aloud. “Our family could have put them through college by now.”

“Instead, we’ll put him into early retirement,” Carrick laughs. “Trust me, not having kids to worry about and obsess over is a special reward all in itself.”

“Which is why instead of children, I’m going to travel and keep my money all to myself. Maybe one day, I’ll have a luxury yacht of my own, and a whole fleet of jet skis. That, Dad, is pure joy.”

“Hey!” Grace exclaims. “Having children is the most rewarding and greatest gift any person could experience and one day, hopefully in the next year or two, you’ll have your own child to love and nurture so you can know what a joy and honor it truly is.”

Elliot laughs, a little too hard, and when he finally can pull words together through his gasping breaths he looks up at his mother. “Sorry, mom. You’re going to have to go elsewhere. This grandchild farm is closed for business.”

“You mean you don’t ever want to have kids?” Grace asks.

“Nope. Why would I? I have all the child I’ll ever need right here,” He reaches around me to shove Christian who glares back at him.

“Fine,” Grace says bitterly, and then turns to Christian. “You’ll give me grandchildren, won’t you dear?”

“Sure,” Christian says, “Ten, fifteen years from now, that’s something I’d be willing to consider.”

“That’s not funny,” She says quickly.

“It wasn’t supposed to be,” He replies and she glares at him. “I’m not even married yet, Mom. Why don’t we let Ana graduate first before we start planning her future as the mother of your grandchildren.”

“She’ll graduate in May. We could have grandbabies by this time next year!” Grace says happily and I lean over to narrow my eyes at her.

“You know I’m sitting right here, right?”

“Yes, I very much intended for you to hear that,” She smiles and I shake my head.

“I don’t think a year is an unreasonable amount of time…” She says loftily, and Elliot gives her a solemn look.

“Well, we all knew Mia was headed down the wrong path, but I always wanted better for her than teen pregnancy…”

I laugh, but Christian reaches around to punch Elliot in the arm for the very insinuation that his baby sister could be having sex and as he turns his attention back to Bob, I hear the door that leads into the yacht slide open.

“Mr. Grey,” Taylor interrupts us. We all turn our attention in his direction and I feel my stomach drop at the look on his face.

“Yes?” Christian responds.

“Oh, uh, no sir… your father,” He holds out the satellite phone towards Christian. “It’s your assistant, sir. Mrs. Lincoln is on the line with a counter offer and she wants to know if you want her to patch her through to you?”

“Yes,” Carrick says, quickly getting off his sun lounger, and reaching for the phone in Taylor’s outstretched hand. He takes a long breath, readying himself, and then puts the phone to his ear.

“Isabel? Yes. Put her through.”

We all stare at him anxiously, while he waits, and we know the instant she’s put on the line because Carrick’s face immediately sours.

“Mrs. Lincoln,” He greets her formally, and then he frowns as he listens to whatever she says. “Absolutely not, that’s not even close to the number we gave you. I’m sorry, but you know what those salons bring in. You’ve been quick to brag about it every chance you could, remember? Because I know what the answer will be. Fine, hold.”

He pulls the phone away from his ear and then looks down at Christian impatiently. “$850,000.”

“Funny, that doesn’t sound like $1.2 million,” Christian says tersely, not looking up from the book in his lap.

“But it is an offer, Christian. An offer made 24 days before the deadline, which is 24 days sooner to have all of this over with.”

“And $350,000 short of what of I’m willing to sell them for. I’m not negotiating with her, Dad. I’ll close them down and take the loss before I give them to her for one penny less than $1.2 million.”

Carrick nods and puts the phone back to his ear. “It’s $1.2 million, Elena. I can save you a lot of trouble and tell you that it’s $1.2 million right now, and it will be $1.2 million on July 26th. Come back to me with a way to make that work, or don’t come back to me at all.” I watch him roll his eyes and then hang up the phone without another word. He hands it back to Taylor and then sighs as he settles back down into his lounger.

“This month can not be over soon enough,” He says.

“I don’t understand,” Grace chimes in. “Why are you offering to sell her the salons at all? Why not just put them on the market right away?”

“Because she’ll pay what I want,” Christian answers. “I won’t get $1.2 million on the market, hell, I won’t get $850,000. But Esclava is it for her, she’ll pay what I ask in the end. I know $1.2 million is just about everything she has, buying the salons will put her right back where she was before I saved her. She can go back to that, struggling just to keep her head above water, or she can have nothing at all.”

“I like the idea of nothing,” Grace says, and Christian actually looks up at her, surprised. “You want $1.2 million for the salons?” She continues. “I’ll pay that.”

“What?” Christian asks, as though he hasn’t heard her correctly.

“Do I write you a check or do we use a wire transfer?”

“You want to buy the salons?” Christian clarifies, his voice skeptical, but his mother nods. “Why? You’re a doctor, you don’t have the kind of time to run a business…”

“I don’t plan on running them,” Grace says. “I plan on immediately closing them down and then standing back as she watches everything she’s worked hauled out and put where it belongs, in a dump truck.”

He’s quiet for a minute, contemplating this, until he shrugs and then looks back at his mother. “I suppose I don’t have to sell. I could just fire her, close the doors…”

“$1.4 million,” Grace counter offers and again, he looks up at his mother confused. “I want to do this, Christian. I want to be the one to take the thing that makes up her entire world and rip it apart right in front of her. You have no idea how much I want that. I’d pay $10 million if that’s what it took.”

Christian looks from his mother to his father, and Carrick nods, agreeing with Grace. “Fine,” Christian says, “$1.2 million, but I’m going to donate the money from the sale to your foundation and match it with my own.”

“Deal,” Grace says, smiling broadly and reaching her hand out to shake Christian’s. He laughs, shakes his head good humoredly and takes his mother’s hand.

“I’ll call my office and have the paperwork drawn up,” Carrick says, happily. “And then I’ll call Mrs. Lincoln and let her know you’ve brokered a deal.”

Carrick turns around and practically skips inside for the satellite phone and Christian reaches over to grasp my hand.

“I’ve got to go let Ros know Esclava is sold so she can schedule some time for us to begin separating it from GEH. I’ll be in the office in our bedroom, if you need me.”

“Okay,” I nod and he leans over and kisses me before he too gets up and disappears inside.

Christian spends the rest of the afternoon in his office while I play cards with Kate, Grace and my mom. He asks to have dinner brought into him instead of coming out to eat with the family, and everytime I go to talk to him and try and convince him to come join us, he tells me he just needs fifteen more minutes, even though those 15 minutes seems to mean hours. I feel a little disappointed as I make my way back through our bedroom, but I try to at least take a little solace knowing I got him to relax for a while during the day. Hopefully when GEH is more established, a little older, and he trusts the people working around him more, he’ll be a little more willing to let go and step away from work to enjoy his free time with me and his family.

I turn down the hallway for the stairs so that I can join the rest of the family in the dining room, but find myself pausing as I pass the door to the room where Mia is. It’s been awhile since anyone has come to check on her, so I pop my head in through the door to make sure she’s doing okay.

“Hey,” I say, when I see her sitting on the bed. She looks up to me and I frown when I see tears rolling down her cheeks. Quickly, I step fully into the room, close the door behind me, and go to sit next to her on the bed. She sniffles and then breaks down into tears again, so I pull her into my arms, rubbing her arm comfortingly.

“What’s going on, Mia?” I ask her.

“Nothing,” She says quickly, but there’s no sense of conviction behind her words. It sounds more like something she’s simply been repeating over and over again to the point where not even she believes it anymore.

“Come on, you know that nobody believes that. Look, I’m not your parents, and I’m not Christian or Elliot. If you need to talk to me, you can. I’m not going to lecture you or tell you what to do. I just want to make sure you’re okay, Meems.”

She smiles a little as I use Christian’s nickname for her, but she shakes her head. “There’s nothing going on, I’m just trying to… I mean, what I want is…” She stops, pursing her lips together in frustration as she struggles to keep back the words it seems she’s actually dying to let out. Instead though, she takes a long, deep breath, and then looks up at me with hollow looking eyes. “I think I might be screwing up.”

“Yeah…” I nod, sadly. “But it’s not too late to change that. You have a choice here, Mia. You can keep fighting against everyone who wants to help you, or you can let us in and we can get through whatever it is you’re going through together. We’re not here to do anything but help you. That’s all we want to do. We want to see you be successful. We want to see you happy. Does any of this make you happy, Mia?”

She bites her lip and then looks down at the bedspread. “No,” She says quietly. “Honestly… I’m a little scared. I think I’m in over my head. I didn’t think it would be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“I know. Look, I don’t know exactly what it is you’re, uh… doing but, I experimented a little in high school and I can tell you that it doesn’t ever get better, it only ever gets worse. It’s never going to be like that first time ever again, and you could lose everything chasing something you’ll never get back. Addiction ruins people, Mia, and it tears families apart. I know when Christian thought he lost his family, when he thought he lost you… it put him in a really dark place. I don’t want to see you get there. Don’t push your family away, they’re all you have.”

“They just don’t understand,” She argues.

“Maybe not. Maybe they can’t know what you’re going through because they’re haven’t experienced what you’ve experienced and they don’t feel what you feel, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have your best interest at heart. They just want to help, Mia, and they can if you’ll let them.”

She shrugs, very non-committal, and I sigh.

“I think they want you to go talk to Dr. Flynn,” I tell her. “He’s very good, and he does know what he’s talking about. He can keep a secret, Mia and he won’t use what you tell him against you, so if you don’t want to open up to your mom and dad, or Christian, just promise me you’ll try talking to him.”

“And… he’ll really keep a secret. No matter what?”

“As long as you haven’t murdered someone,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her, but she just lets out a short, harsh laugh, and shakes her head. I look up and see the vague outline of the Seattle skyline in the distance. It’s starting to get pretty dark so I know the fireworks will be starting soon, which means everyone is probably converging on the upper deck.

“The fireworks should be starting soon,” I tell her, “Why don’t you come out and watch them with us?”

“No,” She says, frowning once again. “I just want to be alone.”

“Okay, well if you change your mind…”

She gives me a half smile as I get up off the bed, lean over to kiss her on top of her head and then disappear through her door. I decide that if I can’t convince Mia to come out and watch the fireworks with us, I’m certainly not going to let Christian miss out, so rather than head back to the main deck with everyone else, I turn back for our bedroom. Before I get to Christian’s office door though, I hear low voices inside, and I stop as I realize what they’re saying.

“Look, Christian…” My mom says, sighing as if someone has asked her to do something she really doesn’t want to. “I know that you love her. I can see that just as clearly as anyone else can. I can see that you’ve done a lot for her this summer, and that you care about her. Hell, I can even see that you’re sorry for what you did, but that doesn’t take away the other things I’ve seen.”

“That first summer, when she broke up with you and came to Savannah, she cried for a week straight. And I don’t mean that she cried off and on, I mean she did nothing but cry for an entire week. She wouldn’t eat, she wouldn’t sleep, she just cried. Sometimes it was so soft I could only barely hear it if I stood right outside her door, other times it was so loud that I could hear her anywhere in the house, in the backyard, even shut away in the car in my garage. She was in agony and I couldn’t do anything to comfort her. Then after the first week, she slept. She slept 17-20 hours a day, everyday, like some kind of self preservation instinct had kicked in to protect her from the pain. That lasted another week and when she finally woke up and got out of bed, she was a different person.”

“You see, before she met you, my daughter was the kind of girl who read fairy tales and romantic novels and believed them. She was the kind of girl who had faith in people, in the goodness of the world, and most importantly, in herself. It was that kind of unyielding optimism and ability to dream that made her who she is and got her into Harvard when no one else in our family has ever even gone to college. But, she doesn’t read fairy tales anymore. Instead she reads books about psychology and overcoming depression. She doesn’t have the same blind hope that she used to, she looks at everything for what it is and expects the worst. She doesn’t dream anymore. That Christian, is because of you. That is the impact you have had on my daughter’s life. You may love her, you may want to be with her, but if you really want what’s best for her, you have to accept that it might not be you.”

I freeze, waiting for Christian’s response. He’s quiet for a minute and my muscles tighten with anger as I imagine him sitting there across from her, her words wounding him. Not what’s best for me? She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Christian is the only things that makes me feel whole, and loved, and alive. He’s absolutely what’s best for me and I’m about to storm into the room and tell her that myself, but I stop when I hear Christian begin to speak.

“You’re wrong, Carla.” He says. “I’m not the reason her reading choices have changed. She reads book about psychology and depression because she wrote a book about psychology and depression. She dreams just as big now as she ever did, her dreams are just different. She wants to publish novels and run a publishing house and she’s well on her way to accomplishing both of those things. My COO and I just ran the numbers on SIP this last week, and the turnaround has been more resounding and successful than either one of us predicted. That’s your daughter’s work and, in my experience, you don’t get those kind of results from people who don’t believe in themselves. I know I hurt her, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do or sacrifice to be able to take back what she went through that summer, but I can’t. The only thing I can do is love her, cherish her, and promise to never do anything to hurt her again. I intend to keep that promise, Carla. Ana means more to me than anything in the world. More than my company, more than my family, more than my own life, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t give her or do for her to make her safe and happy.”

“Fine,” My mom replies. “Christian, all I care about is that my daughter is happy and healthy and that she has the ability to achieve everything she’s worked so hard for. If you don’t stand in the way of any of those things, then I won’t say another word against you. But it isn’t my approval that you need to worry about.”

“What do you mean?” Christian asks.

“Ana has never put much stock into what I say or think, but that’s not true when it comes to Ray. Ana worships him, and his approval does matter to her. Do you think he’s going to approve of you when he finds out about the things you’ve done? When he gets back here and he finds out how you broke her, do you think he’ll walk her down an aisle in front of all of our friends and family, place her hand in yours, and ask you to take care of her for the rest of her life?”

“I love her,” Christian says defensively.

“So does he,” My mom argues. “He loves her more than I’ve ever seen any man love a child, and she loves him. If you want any future with her, you had better be prepared for what you’re going to say to him because you’re going to get one shot with him. One chance to prove to him that you’re a man he can trust his daughter’s future to, and a multibillion dollar empire, a fancy yacht, and a private jet won’t affect his judgement.”

“Those are just things, that’s not everything I want to give her. I want to care for her, I want to give her whatever future she wants. I want to be the man her father wants for her.”

“Then you have a year to prove that,” My mom says, there is a brief moment of silence and some muffled shuffling noises that I assume are from them standing up, and then my mom speaks again. “Don’t hurt my daughter again, Christian.”

“I promise you, I won’t,” He says.

“Good. Then, thank-you for sitting down and talking with me.”

I can hear them moving again so I quickly stand up straight and ease open the door to the office, trying to look surprised to find them both there and not like I’ve just been eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Ana,” My mom says, a little guiltily, when she sees me.

“We’re, uh… We’re about to pull into the bay. Everyone else is on the back deck, I wanted to come and get Christian so he didn’t miss the fireworks.”

“Well, we better get out there then,” My mom says. She gives me a tight smile and then reaches over and grips Christian reassuringly on his upper arm. He nods towards her in recognition, but as she turns to leave the room, I pull on him to keep him behind with me, and then wrap my arms around him.

“I love you, Christian,” I tell him.

“I love you too, baby,” He says, but his tone is a little off as I think he’s caught off guard by my seemingly out of the blue assertion. I pull my head away from his chest, keeping my arms locked tightly around him as I look up into his eyes.

“I just want you to know that, and that nothing, or no one could change that. Nobody. You and me, that’s all I care about.”

I hear him exhale, like he’d been holding his breath and then he leans down and presses his lips into mine. I kiss him back, my arms wrapping under his and hooking over the back of his shoulders so I can hold myself to him as closely as possible. When he pulls away, he leaves one last, gentle lingering kiss on my lips and then softly nuzzles his nose against mine, eliciting a gratified moan from me.

“Come on,” He says quietly, “Surprisingly, I don’t think they’d hold the fireworks for me.”

“Sucks just being one of the people, huh?” I ask and he laughs, then takes my hand and leads me out onto the back deck where everyone is already waiting, curled up under blankets on the various loungers or the sofa on the open deck. Christian pulls me down onto a large, circular lounger that is probably big enough for four people, but that we have to ourselves. The staff bring us a blanket since it is kind of chilly with the sea breeze blowing over us, and Christian tugs the blanket over the both of us and then wraps me in his arms while we stare up at the inky black sky.

“It’s so nice out here,” Kate says, under Elliot’s arm and laying so that her head is resting on his chest. “You don’t get to see the stars much in the city with all the light pollution.”

“Or clouds,” Elliot says, with a laugh. “Don’t forget where you are, babe.”

“Well it’s perfect tonight, not a rain cloud in the sky.”

“Praise be!” Elliot exclaims, a little over dramatically and we all laugh.

“Mom?” A small voice says behind us, and Christian and I both turn to look over the back of the lounger to see Mia standing in the doorway from the open deck.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Grace replies, clearly surprised to see her.

“Can I come watch the fireworks with you?” She asks timidly, and Grace smiles at her.

“Of course you can. I’d really like that.”

The corner of Mia’s mouth turns up into a small smile and she walks forward and climbs onto the lounger with her Mom who wraps her up in the blanket with her and kisses her, hard, on the cheek.

There’s a loud bang and suddenly the sky above us is illuminated with golden sparkles. Christian’s arms tighten around me again and I settle back down and stare up at the fireworks exploding over our heads. It’s beautiful and awe inspiring as the entire sky above us is filled with bright, colorful light, and the glittering trails seem to rain down over the top of us while the cheers from the shore echo out over the water. More than once, I gasp as the entire sky is lit up, and the boom from the explosion rattles deep in my chest. Every so often I feel Christian leave soft kisses against my hair, or against my temple, and when I turn to look at him, I see that he’s not focused on the fireworks display at all.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, and when my teeth sink into my bottom lip to try and hold back my smile, he leans over and kisses me. There isn’t the sense of hesitation in his kiss that has been there since the Mayor’s Ball, but it isn’t an aggressive, fiery assault either. His teeth pull my lip, releasing it, and after his tongue brushes lightly over me, it slips purposefully into my mouth and begins massaging mine. I can taste the lingering remains from the wine he drank at dinner and it’s intoxicating, sweeping me away and wrapping me into him while his lips and tongue move gently, but purposefully, against mine.

I let out a low, soft moan, so that no one can hear but him and then I actually tense in surprise when I feel his hand brush up my thigh and then grab onto me so he can hook my leg over his hip, and I can feel his erection pressing into me. Oh…

“Let me take you to bed,” He whispers against my lips.

“Really?”

“Yes,” He affirms, and there isn’t any hesitation in his voice, only lustful need. I turn to look up at the sky, now completely filled with exploding light as rocket after rocket launches into the air and detonates into a glittering shower. The grand finale.

“Take me to bed, Christian,” I whisper, turning back to face him and he smiles and then presses his lips into mine again, only pulling away when the sounds of the fireworks go silent and the cheering, both from our families and the low, dull roar of the people on the shore, echo around us.

“Well that was really something,” Carrick says, “Being over the water really does make a difference.”

“It does,” Grace agrees. “And I’m so happy we had everyone here to enjoy it together.” She squeezes and kisses Mia once more and then turns to face us. “Thank you, Christian, for this wonderful weekend.”

“My pleasure,” He says. I feel him reach down to adjust his erection under the blanket, and then he stands and looks down at me. “We should be going ashore now, should we go pack?”

“Yeah,” I croak. He smiles, amused by the inability for me to pull off his perfect composure when I know what packing really means.

“We should get ready to go too,” Grace says, pulling the blanket back from her and Mia. Christian takes my hand and quickly leads me back inside, probably not wanting to walk to our room with his parents. I almost have trouble keeping up with him as he pulls me up the stairs to the 2nd deck. Once we’re in the room, he closes the door behind us and then pushes me into it, his lips coming down on mine as he reaches for the hem of my t-shirt. I lift my arms into the air, helping him remove it as quickly as possible and once he tosses it to the floor, he lifts me so that I can wrap my legs around his waist and continue to kiss him while he carries me off to the bed.

“What are you going to say when we dock and we still have to pack?” I ask him breathily, as he leaves a trail of kisses down my neck towards my collar bones and his fingers begin work on the buttons of my shorts.

“That was just an excuse, I had the staff pack everything for us once we turned back around for Seattle.” He says, not taking his lips off my skin. “I’m more concerned that I won’t be finished with you when it’s time to disembark.”

I groan, as his fingers reach under the band of my shorts, pulling them down and taking my panties with them. My skin feels hot as the need I feel for him, to feel him inside of me, blossoms out of control. I need to touch him, to feel his skin pressed against mine while he makes love to me, and so I reach out for his shirt and tug it upwards. He doesn’t stop me. He helps me, and once it’s gone, and I can drink in the glorious perfection that is his perfectly sculpted body, I lean forward and press my lips into his chest.

He exhales sharply, but it isn’t a sound of pain, it’s a sound of pleasure. It gives me a rush of confidence which I cling onto as I grip onto his arm and pull myself out from underneath him, pushing him back onto the bed so that he’s on his back before I climb on top and lower my lips to his. His hands reach up and unclasp my bra, yanking it off of me while I move my lips down the sharp, chiseled line of his jaw.

“My pants, Anastasia,” He says, his voice now rough and gravelly.

I smile and begin moving down, pausing only to run my tongue over the particularly inviting lines of his pectoral muscles and abs. When I get down to his jeans, I swirl my tongue briefly through the well kempt hair peeking out over the top of his waistband and then move further down, yanking open the tightly fastened button on his fly with my teeth.

“Oh fuck, Ana,” Christian groans. “Your mouth. I want your mouth.”

He lifts his hips off the bed so I can pull down the waist of his pants, but I abandon my efforts the moment his erection is free so I can take him into my mouth. He lets out a long, drawn out breath and entangles his fingers into my hair as I wrap my lips around him, my tongue swirling around the head of his erection every time I pull back. He thrusts forward, so I give him a moment of control, relishing in the deep moans of satisfaction I draw from him.

“Come here,” He breathes, releasing my hair, but when I move up to kiss him, he stops me. “No, I want to go down on you while you suck me. Turn around.”

He pushes me back into the bed, flips me over, and drags me back up to his face. I gasp when his lips make contact with me, and when he reaches down, grasps his erection, and guides it to my lips, I open my mouth and suck him again.

He groans into me as I pull him deep into my mouth, and the combination of his moans against me and his erection, hard and smooth against my lips and tongue, awakens the carnal animal inside of me that only Christian can bring out. I moan and suck harder, take him deeper, use my hand to stroke him in opposition to the movements of my mouth. In response, he nearly devours me with his mouth. He dips his tongue inside of me and swirls it around, fucks me with his fingers while his lips work incessantly over my clitoris. I begin to feel heat rising within me, causing me to tighten around his fingers with the promise of impending release, but he stops.

“Don’t come,” He tells me, not taking his mouth away from me, and the feel of his breath against me does not help me obey him. “I’m not ready to be finished with you. I want to be in you for that, but if you come in my mouth, you’ll unman me, and I won’t get the chance.”

“Then fuck me, Christian,” I plead, removing him from my mouth but continuing to stroke him with my hand. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“Well, if you insist…” He says, leaving one last kiss on my clitoris, before pulling me away from him. I turn around while he positions his erection for me to lower myself onto and while I straddle his waist, he reaches down and rubs his thumb lightly over my clitoris.

“Easy now, baby,” He tells me, as the head of his erection comes in contact with my opening. “Nice and slow. I want to feel you taking every inch of me.”

I whimper a little as he breaks through my lips and I slowly lower myself down onto him, his thumb continuing to massage my clitoris. His free hand grasps tightly to my hips, and once he’s fully inside of me, he holds me down and I rock my hips back and forth.

“Ohhhh my god,” I breath, as I feel him stirring me up inside. His face tightens as he watches me moving back and forth, and his tongue slides across his top lip hungrily.

“That’s it, baby,” He encourages me. “Nice and slow.”

I pull up, and there is a shakiness to my breathing as I feel him sliding out of me, but before I rise all the way off of him, I stop, and then sink back down. My bottom lip begins to tremble as I relish in the pleasure of him inside of me, of really feeling him inside of me. The slowness, the deliberation, it isn’t about the rough, carnal friction or the pounding rhythm that drives us both to the edge of release, it’s about the connection of this moment. About being as close as we can be to one another and how good we can make each other feel through this physical expression of our love. My mouth falls open as the pleasure deep inside of me spikes and I lock eyes with him, finding them filled with his own strained sense of indulgence.

“Put your knees on my shoulders,” He tells me, and so I shift my legs to do as he says. “Now lean back. A little further…” He folds his knees upward, giving me something to grab onto as I slowly lean backwards, and once I get into the position he wants, he thrusts deeply up into me, directly into the place on the front wall of my vagina that is the epicenter of all my pleasure receptors. My body immediately tightens as the shock of pleasure sweeps through me and for a moment, I almost lose my ability to hold myself up with my legs. His other hand moves up to my other hip and he holds me in place as he thrusts forward again, once again hitting me in that perfect place. My thighs clench together and I whimper as he picks up speed.

“Oh my god, Christian!” I cry out, as I feel my entire body begin to shudder, building quickly to what I know will be an overpowering orgasm.

“Right there, baby?” He asks, his voice tight, like he’s pushing off his own release until I find mine. I nod quickly, unable to speak through high keening pouring through my lips in time with his movements. He groans loudly as he throws his head back and thrusts up into me harder. His hands pull me down onto him each time he moves, and soon the heat inside of me begins to bubble out of control, the tightening in my core winding to the point of breaking, and with one final thrust, I detonate.

“Christian!” I scream. My entire body begins to shake as I’m overcome with the force of my orgasm and I collapse on top of him. His fingers grasp my chin and turn my face so that his lips can claim mine. I kiss him back, trying to use my tongue in the commanding way he uses his, but I can’t maintain the kiss as several pleasure driven cries come unbidden from my mouth into his.

“So fucking hot,” He growls, before forcing his tongue back into my mouth. “That’s it baby, give it to me. Fuck, you’re going to make me come.”

I push down on him, moving my hips back and forth to coax him towards the same release he’s given me.

“Come for me, Christian,” I tell him, unable to keep back the needy keen to my voice “I want you to come inside of me.”

“Yes,” He whispers, and after three more hard thrusts, he groans and then finds his release. I let out a sharp, exalted breath and then lie down over him, pressing my body flush against his and reaching up to grip tightly to his hair while he fucks me through his orgasm.

“I’ve missed this,” He whispers when he comes down and his movements inside of me have stilled. I take a deep steadying breath, prop myself up on my elbows, and stare down into his eyes again.

“Me too. I love you, Christian,” I tell him and he lets out a low, approving moan.

“I love you too, Anastasia.”

I smile and then lean down to kiss him, but just before my lips touch his, there is a loud banging against the bedroom door.

“Alright you two, break it up,” Elliot’s voice call to us. “We’re here, let’s go.”

“Fuck off, Elliot!” Christian yells back. I laugh as he rolls his eyes and we quickly get out of the bed and dress so we can leave the yacht and re-enter the real world.

Next Chapter

I’m a little late leaving the office Friday afternoon as I make my way uptown into North Seattle for lunch with Luke. I’m not entirely sure where I’m going and I’ve had to make a few last second lane changes in order to be able to turn where the GPS tells me to. There is an angry honk behind me as I make another quick right turn so that I can make it over to the right freeway on-ramp and I realize that I’ve cut someone off. I turn to give an apologetic look to the driver glaring at me as they speed past and then quickly glance around for any photographers. The last thing I need with Christian right now is a Google Alert to come out blasting the headline, Anastasia Steele: World’s Worst Driver. Especially since it should be Prescott driving, not me, but I’ve, sort of… left her behind.

I feel a wave of guilt as I replay sneaking out of SIP to avoid Prescott seeing me in my head. I know that this probably isn’t the best time to be doing things like this because Christian has been more paranoid than usual following his come to Jesus moment about Elena, and he’s only added more security to everything around us as a result. The code to the elevator was changed, again, all of the security doors at GEH have been recoded and new badges have been issued to all employees, the surveillance system for all GEH properties, and even our apartment, is undergoing an in-depth overhaul, and three new employees have been hired onto Christian’s security team, none of which are Luke Sawyer.

This last issue is the reason I had to leave Prescott behind. I have to see Luke this afternoon and she would have stopped me. I need whatever information he’s been able to dig up so I feel prepared to meet with Elena later. I take a deep breath as I’m filled with simultaneous feelings of dread and satisfaction at the thought. After literally years of fighting against her, I’m finally going to get to tell her that she’s lost today, that Christian is ready to move on and leave her behind and she can go fuck off. But, I’m not naive enough to believe it’s going to be that easy. It’s never easy with Elena Lincoln, and so I want to be armed with whatever ammunition Luke could find.

As I pull off of the I-5 North, my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of an incoming call through my stereo speakers and it makes me jump as I expect to see Christian’s name flash across the screen in the dash. It isn’t Christian though, it’s my mother, so I reach for the button on the steering wheel to answer the phone.

“Hey, Mom. I’m on my way to meet a friend for lunch so I don’t have a lot of time to talk. What’s up?”

“Ana, I just don’t know about this trip…” She says hesitantly and I frown.

“Why?” I ask, my voice hard.

“I just think it’s going to be a little uncomfortable.”

“Mom, Christian is flying you out here in a private jet and you’ll be spending the weekend on a luxury yacht, I don’t think comfort is something you have to worry about.”

“You know what I mean, Ana.”

“Mom…” I groan. “You have to get over this. Look, things are different now. We’ve both grown up a little bit and we’ve moved on from what happened. I love him, he loves me, and he’s not going anywhere. Please don’t make me choose between him and you.”

She’s silent for a long moment. “I just don’t know if I’m going to be able to forgive him for what he put you through. I don’t know if I want to. Watching you go through what you did after you first broke up was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do as a mother. Knowing there was nothing I could do to take that pain away, knowing that he caused it… I don’t want that to happen to you again.”

“I know,” I say, quietly. “But that’s in the past now. I’ve forgiven him and you need to too. Just come out here, please? Maybe you two just need to talk. He loves me mom. He really loves me and he just wants to make me happy. He does make me happy. Just give him a chance.”

“Fine,” She agrees, finally. “I’ll give him a chance but don’t expect me to come out there and fawn all over him because he has a nice boat and all of this money now. If he wants to date my daughter, he needs to show me that he’s serious this time and that he’s not going to hurt you like he did last time.”

I sigh. “Okay, Mom,” I tell her, more to appease her than anything. “Look, I’m pulling up in front of the restaurant so I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, see you next week,” She says.

“Okay, love you. Bye,” I jab my finger into the button on the steering wheel, exhaling a long calming breath as I reach over to pick my purse up off the passenger’s seat and then quickly glance up and down the street to see if I can see anyone looking suspicious before opening the door. I think the coast is clear, so I step out of the Lincoln, feeling paranoid as I look over my shoulder while I lock the door, and then hurry across the street. I don’t know what I’m more afraid of, a photographer jumping out and snapping proof for Christian that I’ve snuck out without security to meet Luke, or Taylor pulling up in the SUV and dragging me back to GEH because Christian already knows.

Thankfully, the latter doesn’t happen and I make it into the restaurant without being accosted by any flashing lights. Luke already has a table so the hostess leads me to the back of the restaurant where he’s seated, leaving menus and a glass of water behind before she leaves.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” I say when we’re alone, but he ignores me and instead, quickly scans the restaurant before turning and narrowing his eyes at me.

“What are you doing here without security?” He asks, sternly.

“You think I could have gotten here with security?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. “Christian isn’t exactly president of the Luke Sawyer fan club right now.”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me to meet you at SIP? Or somewhere closer to you?”

“Because it wouldn’t have been any better had you come to my work and there’s a better chance that I could have been seen by the paparazzi in downtown Seattle. Trust me, it’s better that Christian doesn’t know about this lunch, Luke. He doesn’t know that I’ve had you looking into Elena and I’d like to keep it that way.” He frowns but nods and looks up as the waitress approaches our table to take our orders. She gives him a flirty smile, which to my surprise he returns, and when she leaves, he leans over a little bit so he can check her out as she walks away.

“Luke Sawyer!” I exclaim, reaching over and thwaping him on the head. He turns back to look at me, his eyebrows creased together in confusion.

“What?” He asks.

“You know what. You have a girlfriend, remember? Maybe you shouldn’t be staring at the waitress’s ass. That’s not something girlfriends are usually a fan of.”

“Yeah, well Leah’s not a fan of a lot of things, so…” He says, and as he reaches out for his water to take a drink, I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Uh oh, what’s going on?” I ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“She’s just a little… clingy. I don’t know. I think I’m over it.”

“You’re over it? Already? Haven’t you only been dating a few weeks?” I ask him skeptically and he nods.

“Honestly, that’s about par for me. Don’t get me wrong, Leah’s hot, and she’s great in bed, and we’ve had a good time together for the most part, but I’m not really a relationship kind of guy. It’s too hard with what I do.” He hesitates for a minute and then looks up at me again. “Besides, I think I’m going to try to get a job at Harvard, working campus security for real this time.”

“Luke… I don’t want you to uproot your life just for me. I mean, that’s a big move for only a few months. Don’t give up your girlfriend for me.”

He shrugs. “It’s not for you, not with Leah anyway. I’m just ready to move on. I’d planned to move back to Cambridge with you anyway, before Grey fired me as your CPO. I just didn’t change my plans after he did. This is what I do, and I care about you, Ana. I want to be around. You’re a public figure now, a target, and I want to make sure that you’re safe.”

I purse my lips together as I consider this. I know this is true, it’s why Luke is both the best and the worst person for this job. More than anyone else on Christian’s team, I would trust Luke with my life, not that I think it would ever come down to that. But, I trust him, not just because I know he’s good at his job, but because I know how deeply he cares about me. That’s the crux of the issue, though. He can balance our friendship with his job, but I can’t. Every time he’s done something that’s got him fired, it’s been my fault. I talked him into taking me to Vermont that weekend in Cambridge, I asked him to go with me to run errands that day when I knew I was supposed to take Prescott, I started the game of keep away with the phone that night on the couch in Christian’s apartment, and I made him go out to that club while Christian was in New York.

I’m the problem, not Luke, but there is a problem, and I’m going to have to find a way to fix it before I’m going to be able to convince Christian to bring Luke back.

“Let me see what I can do. I’ll talk to Christian tonight, and maybe…” I begin, but Luke shakes his head to cut me off.

“I don’t need you to fight for me, Ana. I think it’s better this way anyway. He can’t fire me if he’s not my boss.”

The waitress returns, sets our plates in front of us, and Luke winks at her as she turns to leave. I roll my eyes and begin to eat.

“How’re things between you and Grey going anyway? Last I talked to you, you were ready to leave and then the next thing I know, Taylor is coming downstairs to tell me and Kate to go home.”

“Oh, yeah… I decided I didn’t want to go. We’re good. Great, really. We’re actually back to normal… almost.”

“Almost?”

I sigh. “Well he’s finally come around on Elena, so that’s made things a lot easier between us. He admits to what they were and what she did to him but, now that he sees the abuse side of it, he’s struggling to come to terms with what she did to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s having issues with his body, like a kind of disconnect. He doesn’t feel comfortable in his own skin. Flynn told me that it’s a kind of body dysmorphia that’s common for victims of physical abuse and sexual assault, but it’s… hard. That first day when it hit him, he wouldn’t let me touch him at all. He’s gotten better, I mean, he hugs me, kisses me, and we can cuddle on the couch or in bed as long as he’s the one who wraps his arms around me…”

“What about sex?” He asks.

I shake my head.

“And, he still won’t go back to see Flynn. I tried to get him to go with me yesterday but he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he doesn’t. I don’t want to push him… I mean, his mood is good. He’s generally acting pretty normal but the touch thing… It’s an issue.”

“Well, hopefully he comes around soon and goes back into therapy,” Luke says sympathetically, and I nod.

“Yeah, but watching him go through this is making me murderously angry, which is why I wanted to see you today.”

“To murder me?” He asks with a sly grin.

“No,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “Carrick and I are giving Elena the paperwork to buy the salons today. I know she’s not going to take it well, so I was hoping you’d found something, anything, that I could use to persuade her to go quietly.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry, Ana. I’ve been looking, I’ve digging everywhere I can think, but I can’t find anything that looks shady. She hasn’t gotten so much as a speeding ticket since the trial. I’ve got nothing. Even all the photographs being leaked to the press… I’ve traced the source and it’s not her.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. Whoever it is sends the pictures from an email registered to the extremely clever pseudonym, Jane Doe. When I found the email and got into it, I found the forwards of the pictures but they all come from different phones with different numbers. The area codes on the phones and the addresses they’re all registered to are in New York, and the addresses are to different houses that are listed online as being for sale.”

“Okay, well she was in New York. How do you know she didn’t just buy them when she was there and registered them to a fake address?”

“Because it started before she went to New York, remember? I mean, maybe it is her. I don’t know, but it if is, she’s covered her trail well enough that I can’t find a definitive connection without actually catching her using the phone. I’ve looked into her personal bank accounts, the accounts for Esclava, credit card statements… I can’t find any money transfers from TMZ or even ones that look out of place. I don’t know what else to look for.”

“There has to be something,” I argue. “This is Elena Lincoln we’re talking about, I know there is something. What about Isaac? Is there a way she could be using him to cover up what she’s doing?”

“Who’s Isaac?”

“Her submissive.”

Luke’s brow furrows as he contemplates this. “Yeah, maybe. But I’d need more information on him. Do you know his last name?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ll find out. I’ll keep looking, Ana. I promise you if there’s something to find, I’ll find it.”

“Okay,” I nod, and take a calming breath, before changing the subject. Thankfully, our lunch is much lighter once we move on, but I get so lost in our easy conversation that when I look at the time, I realize I’m running a little late to meet Carrick. I apologize and leave some money on the table for the bill before booking it out of the restaurant and driving a little too quickly back into downtown Seattle.

When I pull into the parking garage at GEH, I notice that Christian’s space is empty which means that Carrick was able to get Christian out of the building before Elena got there. He’s been waffling back in forth on whether or not he wanted to be in this meeting or not, but with everything he’s struggling with right now, Carrick thought it would be better to go into this without him. Even Ros was supportive. She’d promised us that she’d create an emergency to get him out of the office if she had to. I chew on my bottom lip as I step into the elevator and press the button for the 8th floor, wondering if that ended up being necessary.

When I get to the top floor, I swipe my badge against the pad outside the double glass doors and step into the executive suite. Andrea isn’t at her desk so I’m greeted by the unfamiliar girl sitting in Leila’s old seat, and she smiles at me with a cool, professional kind of deference.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Grey House,” She says, “Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m Anastasia Steele, I have a four o’clock with Mr. Grey,” I tell her and her smile morphs into a look of shock.

“Anastasia Steele?” She repeats, like she hasn’t heard me correctly. I nod and her eyes widen even further. “I’m sorry, Miss Steele. Mr. Grey…”

“Ana!” I hear Andrea’s voice say urgently and I turn and see her coming out of the large conference room on the other side of the lobby. I nod once to the receptionist and then smile at Andrea as I walk over to meet her. “We’re all set up in here.” She tells me, shooting a nervous look towards the elevators as she gestures to the door she just walked through. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” I tell her, and she nods and opens the conference room door for me. Carrick is inside typing on a Macbook, but he looks up and smiles at me as I enter the room and close the door.

“Hey, Ana,” He greets me. “How was your afternoon?”

“Good. Where’d you send Christian off to?” I ask.

“Actually, Elliot took care of that for me. He told him he needed to go down to the job site to oversee something for the new building. He’s promised me that he’ll be able to keep him down there all afternoon.”

“Oh, good,” I say. “You can do this without him being here, right? You’re okay with that?”

“Oh believe me, Anastasia. Nothing will make me happier,” Carrick says with a vindictive kind of smile and it makes me laugh. I take the seat next to him, and pull out my laptop to answer some emails and read over some of the new query letters that had been pulled by the agents this afternoon. I’m about halfway through the summary of a sci-fi novel about a small colony that was sent to terraform mars for the survival of the human race, when my attention is diverted by a small knock on the door.

My stomach does a kind of back flip as my nerves peak and I quickly close the lid to my laptop and sit up straight as Carrick and I both turn our attention to the door.

“Come in,” He says, with a reserved authority that I don’t know if I’d be able to use in my current nervous state. He reaches over, grips my hand firmly, and then pulls it away as the door slowly opens and we watch Andrea motion for Elena to step inside. I stare back into her flat blue eyes which immediately harden as she looks between Carrick and I.

“Where’s Christian?” She asks.

“Have a seat, Mrs. Lincoln,” Carrick says coolly, motioning to the seat across the table from us, but she doesn’t move.

“Where is Christian?” She repeats.

Carrick’s eyes narrow and the muscle in his jaw tightens. “Mr. Grey had other obligations to see to this afternoon. He’s a very busy man. As his appointed legal counsel, I assure you I am prepared to continue this meeting without him.”

Elena sucks a sharp breath in through her nose and releases it slowly as she settles down into the chair. Her eyes shift once to me, raking over me with pointed appraisal, before turning back to Carrick.

“Mrs. Lincoln,” Carrick begins with a kind of detached, professionalism that I assume comes from years of practice at being emotionless in front of criminals. “Mr. Grey has asked you here today to inform you that it is his intention to terminate his proprietorship of Esclava Beauty Salon LTD and it’s DBA for Grey Enterprises Holdings. In thirty days’ time, the salons and all related properties, securities, inventories, merchandise, furniture, equipment, and other non-listed assets, both tangible and intangible, will be placed on the market for immediate sale. Should you wish to purchase the salons and all related licensing, Mr. Grey will allow you to do so as long as the Agreement for Sale of Business is signed on or before July 26th.” He picks up a thick stack of paper, held together by a staple in the upper right hand corner, and slides it across the table towards Elena. “Do you have any questions?”

Elena’s mouth falls open slightly as she picks up the sale agreement off the table and begins to read over it, the disbelief in her eyes growing more pronounced the more she reads. She drops the contract on the table, an irritated breath escaping her lips, and then she rolls her eyes.

“What, is this supposed to scare me?” She asks, looking back up at Carrick and he smiles and leans back in his chair.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, was I not clear? This is supposed to get rid of you. You see, Christian wants to sell his business because he wants you gone. He doesn’t want to talk to you, he doesn’t want to see you, he just wants you out of his life. So just sign the form and you can take your salons and I can take my son back.”

“And why would I do that?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Because you don’t have a choice,” I interject, and she turns to look at me, clearly annoyed, like my mere presence is inconveniencing her. “Look, Elena. Buy the salons, or don’t. Literally, nobody cares. Either way, Christian is selling. He’s only offering you this in the first place so that he doesn’t have to waste his precious time finding a buyer for your pathetic little business. He’s done with you, whether you like it or not.”

“You think that’s the first time I’ve heard that from him?” She asks, and she actually lets out a small, amused laugh. “You don’t think he’s told me that he wants nothing to do with me a thousand times, over and over again. It’s always the same. He throws his little temper tantrum and then two weeks later he’s on the phone or at my door. That’s what this is, and I’m not playing along.”

“No, it’s different this time. He knows what you are and he wants you as far away from him as possible,” I tell her.

“Does he?” She replies, disinterestedly. She sighs, pushes her chair away from the conference table, and gets to her feet. “Well, this has all been an extraordinary waste of my time, so, if you’ll excuse me, I own a business that doesn’t run itself…”

“Actually, you don’t own a business,” Carrick interrupts her. “But you could. I’ll just need you to sign next to the blue flag.” He pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket, sets it on top of the contract and looks up at her expectantly.

“I’m not signing anything without speaking to Christian first,” She says.

“Oh, Elena,” Carrick laughs. “That’s the beauty of all of this. You don’t get to speak with Christian. Ever again. You get to deal with me now. Exclusively.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen…”

“Jesus, what don’t you get here, Elena?” I snap at her. “We’re not playing a game with you. This is done. Finished. Game over. You’ve lost. We’re not doing this with you anymore. Now, we all know you’re going to sign this contract in the end, so rather than waste thirty days, why don’t you just sign it now, bow out with a little grace, and we can all move on with our lives.”

“You see, that’s the problem, Anastasia. I’m not going to sign this. You think I’m just going to let go? Christian Grey is a very valuable asset to me and I do not take that for granted. He’s mine, and I’m not going to give him up. If you want to fight me for him, then let’s fight. Just know that it is a battle that I have no intention of losing. I will destroy him before I let you take him from me and no one knows how to do that better than I do. Push me, and I will take what he loves most and I will break it and watch him crumble.”

“And what is that, Elena?” I ask. “GEH? Me? You’re not going to out maneuver Christian when it comes to business and I know what you are and what you do. I won’t let you get to me. You can’t touch me and I won’t let you use me to get to him. If you want to fight, you’re going to be fighting on your own. We’re done.”

“We’ll see,” She says and she shoots Carrick a contemptuous glare before turning around and leaving the conference room, the door slamming closed behind her.

“Ugh, I want to break her in half like a twig,” I grumble and Carrick grabs onto my shoulder supportively as he reaches across the table for the contract and then slides it back into its folder.

“Trust me, Ana, so do I. But, I don’t think antagonizing her is the smartest move. We’ve won the battle, there’s no point in dragging out the war. I don’t want Christian to get dragged into this. Let’s just get through the next thirty days as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

“And if it’s not painless? If she makes this as difficult as we both know she will? I don’t take her threats idly Carrick, you shouldn’t either.”

Carrick frowns. “Trust me, I don’t take her threats idly either. We just need to keep her away from Christian and she won’t be able to do anything. Ana, I think it’s best that you let me handle this. I know you want to know what’s going on and I understand that, but I think you’re just a way for her to get to him. I think it’s best if you let me and my legal team deal with her until the sale is done.”

I frown. I know that he’s right. There isn’t really anything I can do to make the situation better but there is a potential for me to make this a lot worse, especially for Christian. I just don’t like the idea of being kept in the dark and not being able to anticipate what’s coming, because I know she’s not going to go quietly. I want to protect Christian from that.

“Just… keep me in the loop, okay?” I ask him. “I’ll let you deal with her and I’ll stay out of it, but I want to know what’s going on. I don’t want her to blindside me with anything.”

“Deal,” He agrees.

“Deal,” I repeat and he leans over to hug me before beginning to pack up so we can both go home.

When I get back to Escala, I find Prescott anxiously pacing the floor in the foyer, waiting for me. When the doors to the elevator open and I step out onto the marble floor, her head shoots up in my direction and there is a brief flash of relief that crosses her face, followed immediately by anger.

“Miss Steele,” She says firmly. “It is entirely impossible for me to perform the duties to which I have been assigned if you refuse to inform me of your schedule. You should not have left the office this afternoon without my knowledge or without asking me to accompany you. Mr. Grey has issued strict instructions that you are not to go anywhere unattended.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I reply. I try for contrite, but I’m not sure I succeed. I know she’s just doing her job but that doesn’t make her any more appealing to be around. Actually, knowing that it’s her job to just follow me around everywhere and watch everything I do, makes me want her around less.

“Well see that it doesn’t happen again,” She says, and she turns and storms angrily into Taylor’s office on the right side of the foyer. I sigh and walk into the apartment. As much as I don’t want to listen to her, I guess with what’s going on with Elena, and until Christian feels a little more comfortable, I need to play nice with my security. Really, I just need to stop comparing her to Luke. She’s not going to be my best friend, and that’s okay. Taylor and Christian aren’t best friends… Although, Taylor seems to be a lot more pleasant to be around than the Robocop I have assigned to me…

There are expense reports, a book tour proposal, and four different mock ups for cover art in my bag that I had intended to review once I got home, but I decide that I can put it off for a few hours. I let my bag slump to the floor and then collapse onto the couch, kick my shoes off, and use a pillow to cover my face and block out the light streaming in through the windows. It feels good to just be still and do nothing, try to clear my mind, and focus on nothing but breathing in and out, but I’m only able to lay there for a few minutes until I hear the elevator doors open and Christian comes thundering into the foyer.

“Prescott!” He yells angrily, and immediately, I pull the pillow away from my face and sit bolt upright on the couch. His gaze falls on me, silently warning me to stay put, but when Prescott comes out of Taylor’s office he turns on her.

“Yes, sir?” She asks.

“You’re fired,” He says firmly, “Get your things and go.”

“Christian!” I protest, but, without turning around to look at me, he holds up a single finger to silence me. Prescott looks slightly shocked, but overcomes it quickly. She nods and then disappears back into the office. Once she’s gone, Christian turns his anger on me.

“Do you want to tell me about your afternoon?”

Oh shit.

“What do you mean?” I ask trying to be coy and he reaches into his suit jacket, pulls out his iPhone and hands it to me. I look down at it and then feel a deep sinking feeling as I read the open Google Alert splashed across the screen and the pictures that accompany it. Who the fuck is getting these shots, and how are they doing it without me seeing them every goddamn time?

---

Google Alert: Anastasia Steele

X17Online, June 25th 2010: Street Style Watch. Anastasia Steele was the epitome of classic, chic style as she ran errands this afternoon in uptown Seattle. Her immaculately cut sheath dress (by Stella McCartney) retails for over $1300. Clearly, there are advantages to dating the billionaire heartthrob, Christian Grey.

---

Well that’s not so bad… I look up at him, confused.

“You don’t like my dress?” I ask him and he narrows his eyes at me.

“There are a lot of things I don’t like about that picture, Anastasia, but the dress is not one of them. First of all, that restaurant is almost twenty minutes away from your office, and you don’t have security with you. Second of all, that black car parked a few spaced down from the front door? That car belongs to Luke Sawyer.”

Shit. “Okay, yeah. I met him for lunch.”

“Why?” He snaps.

I take a deep breath and stare very purposefully at him. “I had lunch with him because I’m having him look into Elena Lincoln,” I explain and his brow furrows.

“What do you mean you’re having him look into Elena Lincoln?” He repeats.

“He’s been looking for a while. That’s actually how he found the plane confirmation in her email. He thought it might have been her leaking photos of me to the press.” His expression shifts as the anger slowly melts out of his face and is replaced with confusion.

“Is it?” He asks and I’m filled with surprising, but overwhelming relief to, for the first time, not hear any kind of defensiveness in his question.

“I don’t know. He can’t trace it back to her but, who else it could be? It’s not like pictures of me are worth enough for the paparazzi to be following me around 24/7 and in every instance that these pictures are taken, there aren’t any photographers around. Someone is following me and whoever it is seems to have a vested interest in causing trouble for us. Besides Elena, I don’t know who that could be.”

He takes a breath and his mouth moves a little as he mulls over what I’ve just said. It takes a second or two but eventually, he nods. “Okay, I’ll look into it.”

“Already taken care of,” I tell him. “Besides, Luke has a lot of free time on his hands to fill these days.”

Christian rolls his eyes. “I have people better suited than Sawyer to take care of these kinds of things, Ana.”

“Maybe,” I shrug. “But I’d rather you didn’t have to think about her. I don’t want you to have anything to do with her. It’s better if you stay as separated as possible.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. He just stares back at me skeptically so I take two hesitant steps towards him.

“Can I touch you?” I ask and his expression shifts but he eventually opens his arms for me, enveloping me as I step into him and rest my cheek against his chest. We stand there silently for a minute holding on to one another, and while I want desperately to lean up and kiss him, I refrain. Flynn told me that it’s important to let him take the lead with our physical intimacy right now.

“This won’t last forever, Ana,” He says, turning his head so that his lips move against my hair as he speaks. “I want to touch you, I want to hold you, I want to make love to you. I just need to be able to stop replaying all of this in my head before I can. I don’t want to be thinking about her while I’m with you.”

“I know, and I don’t want to rush you…” I reassure him. “But you don’t have to go through the alone. What you’re experiencing is normal. Flynn said…”

“I don’t particularly care to hear what Flynn said,” Christian interrupts me and I frown.

“He can help you, Christian. This is his job. He can help you deal with this.”

“Like he helped me the last time I went and saw him?” He replies darkly.

“Yes. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but he did help you. I don’t think that you’d have ever let her go if you hadn’t gotten to this point, and if you didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” He doesn’t say anything but I feel his chest expand as he takes a deep breath and then hear his drawn out sigh. “You don’t have to feel like this, you don’t have to work this out on your own. Talking helps, and he could have, I don’t know, some exercises or maybe I could do with you that could help you move on. I’ll go with you if you want.”

I pull away so that I can look up at him, and his gray eyes are swimming with the conflict of his irresolution. His eyebrows pull together and slowly he leans down and presses his lips softly into mine. I kiss him back, trying to pour all of the love and support that I want him to feel into him, but after only a few seconds, his lips tense and he pulls away. I give him a weak smile, trying not to take the sting of his discomfort with me personally. He reaches down and cups my face with his hand but as I lean into his touch, he groans and reaches into his pocket.

I watch him pull out his phone, look down at Elena Lincoln’s name on the screen, and his whole body tenses. He ignores the call, grips it tightly for a second, and then puts it back into his jacket.

“I’ll make an appointment with Flynn,” He says in a tight whisper and I give him an encouraging smile.

“I’m glad,” He leans down to kiss me again, but just before his lips touch mine, we’re interrupted.

“Mr. Grey?” a voice says behind me and I turn to see Gail staring awkwardly at us from the kitchen. “Would you like me to start something for you and Miss Steele for dinner?”

“Please,” He says, and when she turns to busy herself in the kitchen he looks back down at me and smirks. “I see what you mean about the lack of privacy.”

“Told you,” I laugh. “And speaking of the lack of privacy, are you going to go un-fire Prescott now?”

“No,” He shakes his head. “You’ve made your feelings on her very clear and it doesn’t ease my concerns for your safety if I have to constantly worry about you giving your security the slip. So, I’m going to assign someone else to you.”

“Oh, well if you’re open to suggestions, I happen to know a very well qualified CPO who has recently found himself without a job.”

“Oh no, Anastasia,” Christian says with a sharp laugh. “I already have the perfect man to keep you in line.”

My eyes narrow at him. “Who? Ryan?”

“No, Ryan will be with me for the next few weeks. You, Anastasia, are going to be spending some time with Taylor.” My smile falters and the shocked expression on my face makes Christian laugh. “That’s right. Good luck getting anything past him, Miss Steele.”

Next Chapter

“Hold still, Ana,” Kate says, wrapping her fingers around my chin to hold my face in place as she applies a winged stroke of eyeliner across my lids. I’m sitting on my bathroom counter, in my underwear, because Kate doesn’t want to get make up on the ridiculously expensive dress we bought in the overly snobby store that I’m sure I wouldn’t have even been allowed to enter two months ago, but was welcomed into and waited on like some kind of princess when I pulled out Christian’s credit card yesterday.

“I hope you know this is the ultimate test of friendship,” I tell her as she begins coloring in my water line. She pulls the pencil away from my eye and laughs.

“Don’t make me laugh, or I’ll blind you.”

“That doesn’t inspire confidence,” I say pointedly, and she responds with an indignant look.

“Just hold still.”

I take a deep breath and look up, allowing her to finish my eye makeup before she picks up a tube of concealer. While she sets up and then blends out my contour, I sneak a glance down at my phone and try and prevent myself from frowning so that I don’t crease the makeup before it sets. It’s almost eight and we’re supposed to leave in thirty minutes.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done,” She assures me, finally reaching for the finishing powder.

“I know, it’s not that. I just thought Christian would be back by now.”

“Yeah, where is he?” She asks.

“Therapy.”

“Well, he knows that this is a black tie event and he can’t just wear whatever suit he wore to the office today, right?”

“I would hope so since he spent $4000 on the naked dress yesterday.”

“It’s not a naked dress,” She says with exasperation.

“Oh yeah? Stand twenty feet away from me and squint your eyes. It’s a naked dress,” I argue and she shakes her head. While she begins searching through her makeup bag for lipstick, we hear the door to the bedroom open and Christian comes into the bathroom, looking slightly ashen face and his hair in complete disarray. His eyes dart between us and then he glares at Kate.

“I need to take a shower,” He says bluntly.

“Okay, I’m almost done,” Kate says, but Christian’s body tenses and he steps to the side so he can pull the door open wider.

“Get out, Kate,” He snaps and when she turns to look back at him, confused by the undeserved anger he directs at her, he lets out a sharp huff of frustration. “Now.”

“Okay, okay,” She says, picking up her makeup bag off the counter and hurrying through the bathroom door. He slams it closed behind her and begins tugging harshly at his tie, and I feel myself deflate a little. This is starting to get absurd. What hell is going on in his therapy sessions?

“What’s wrong, Christian?” I ask. He doesn’t look at me when he responds, but his voice is radiating anger.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” He shrugs his jacket off, still avoiding looking at me as he begins ripping the cufflinks out of his shirt. “I’m not seeing Flynn anymore.”

“What?” I asked, shocked. I get off the counter and walk over to him, reaching out for him out of habit as I come up behind him, but before my fingers make contact with him, he flinches and steps away so that I can’t touch him.

“Don’t,” He says, his tone a clear, resounding warning and I feel a chill run over my body. Fuck, this is bad.

“What happened?” I ask him, my voice weak with fear as I watch him peel his shirt away and begin aggressively undoing the buckle on his belt.

“Nothing happened, I’m just done,” He snarls back at me.

“You can’t stop… it’s important.”

“I’m not arguing this, Anastasia. I’m telling you that I’m done. No discussion. If you can’t handle that right now, then you can leave too.”

“Christian…”

“No!” He snaps. “God damn it, Anastasia, I told you I don’t want to talk about it. I’m late and it looks like you are too so why don’t you go put on some fucking clothes?”

His words hit me like a slap in the face, and suddenly, I’m uncomfortable standing in front of him in only my bra and panties. I look at him, shocked for a moment, and then fold my arms across my body, trying to cover myself, before turning and leaving the bathroom. The door slams closed behind me once again and the sharp sound makes me jump a little.

Kate is standing in the bedroom, looking at me with a shocked expression that I imagine mirrors mine. I’m pretty sure she just heard that entire exchange and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I feel a pinprick of moisture bead in the corner of my eye and my breath chokes off in my throat.

“Hey,” Kate says comfortingly, crossing the distance between us in two long strides and reaching out for me. “Don’t cry, we don’t have time to re-do your makeup. It’s okay, he’s just… that wasn’t about you, Ana. Okay? He’ll take a shower and he’ll calm down.”

She rubs her hands reassuringly over my arms and I take a deep breath to stop the tears before they can begin. Kate dabs her fingers under my eyes, removing the moisture without wiping off any of my make up, and then smiles at me.

“Let’s get you dressed,” She says.

I nod and follow her to Christian’s closet where my dress is hanging in a cream colored dress bag on a hook by the closet door. She reaches up and pulls down the zipper, and the fine, nude colored fabric immediately begins pouring through the opening. She takes the dress out, unzips it, and then holds it open for me to step into. The dress is tight from the top of the bodice down below my behind, so once Kate tugs it up past my behind, I hold the dress in place over my boobs and suck in while she zips me up. She stands back, reaching down to fix the fall of the dress as I take the nude, crystal pave heels off the shelf.

We walk into the living room where Elliot, Grace, and Carrick have been patiently waiting for us for the last hour. Elliot lets out a long whistle when he turns around and sees Kate. She smiles and then holds her arms out to twirl around and show off her dress. The dark navy chiffon swirls around her in a soft, romantic cloud and Elliot is immediately drawn to her. He pulls her into his arms and kisses her deeply. I feel the smallest twinge of jealousy as I watch him smile down at her adoringly, good naturedly, while my own Mr. Grey is fuming all on his own and refusing to talk about it back in our bedroom.

Gail enters the great room with a glass of wine for both Kate and myself, and I take it gratefully as I hear the high ping of the elevator and turn to watch Luke step into the foyer. He’s dressed in a black suit with a black tie, and when the elevator doors close behind him, he doesn’t come in to greet me, he simply steps to the side of the elevator and stares straight ahead.

Oh good, CPO Luke. Maybe Dr. Ralston will call me later and tell me he’s decided to forgo having his class edit my book later, you know, to round out this already perfect evening.

I turn away from him, trying to engage in the conversation going on between Kate, Elliot, Grace, and Carrick, but once again my attention is diverted when I hear footsteps coming up the hall behind me and turn around to see Christian entering the great room. He looks heartbreakingly beautiful in a perfectly fitted tux, black bow tie, and still somewhat damp hair that is mussed in the kind of way that makes me want to slide my fingers into it while I run my tongue over the perfectly smooth line of his chin…

He stares back at me with the same kind of hungry appreciation I’m giving him, and for a moment, I think he’s gotten over his mood. But when I watch his adam’s apple jump in his throat as he swallows and the gray in his eyes hardens once more, I know that it hasn’t.

“You look… stunning, Anastasia,” He says, keeping his voice low in an attempt to make this a private moment between the two of us.

“Thank you,” I reply, “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Grey.”

He gives me a half smile and then lifts his hand to show me a square flat box that I hadn’t noticed him holding. He pulls back the lid and my eyes widen as I stare down at the necklace resting over the black velvet casing. It’s a simple, long strand of exquisite round diamonds, but the ends don’t connect and instead hang down a few inches in the front. There’s no clasp, so I’m almost scared at first to put it on, worried it’ll slip off at some point in the night, but when he carefully eases the extremely stiff strand around my neck, I see that it doesn’t need one. He step back and motions for me to turn and look into the mirror hanging on the wall by the hallway and my hand automatically reaches up to touch the delicate diamonds draped artfully around my throat.

“It’s incredible, Christian,” I whisper.

“It looks beautiful on you,” He tells me. I smile at his reflection but there is no changes in the stoic features that look back at me. He simply nods and then turns back to face his family. “Are you ready?”

“Of course,” Grace says, her tone a little too bright as she reaches down to pick up her clutch off the couch. We walk towards the foyer and Luke reaches out to press the elevator call button for us. Christian stops and turns a hard glare on him.

“What are you doing here, Sawyer?” He asks sharply.

“Taylor has assigned me to security detail tonight, Mr. Grey,” Luke replies.

“And where is Taylor?”

Luke’s normally perfect professional demeanor falters a little as he raises an eyebrow at Christian. “You give him an assignment, sir. He’s taking care of the request you asked of him…”

“Oh,” Christian says, and he takes a deep breath and waves me forward into the elevator and towards the back corner so that I’m standing as far away from Luke as possible and his body is positioned between the two of us. It makes me want to roll my eyes, but with Christian’s current mood, I decide against it. We’re about to spend god knows how many hours in a room with hundreds of strangers, I really don’t want to start tonight out with a fight.

There is a sleek, black limousine waiting for us outside the front doors of the lobby which immediately sends Kate into flurry of giddy excitement. Christian has me climb in first, then he comes next, and the rest of his family files in one by one. Once Luke closes the door behind Carrick and climbs into the front seat of the limo, Christian reaches over to close the privacy glass between us and the driver, and we pull out into the light evening traffic of downtown Seattle.

Christian is silent on the way, and he sits in a way so that there is space between us and when I try to take his hand, he moves it away and rests it in his lap. He’s clearly preoccupied with something as I notice him staring off into space, shaking his head slightly every once in awhile as if he’s trying to shake off whatever it is he’s thinking. I’m worried about him and whatever happened with Flynn tonight, but I know now isn’t the time to try and get him to talk, not in front of everyone. So, instead, I focus on Kate, trying to mirror her enthusiasm and thanking her for her overzealous compliments on the necklace Christian has given me.

When we pull up in front of Columbia Tower, the door is opened and Carrick and Grace step out first followed by Kate and Elliot. I can see the flashes of the cameras as I scoot closer to the door, but they are magnified a dozen times over once Christian steps out of the car, blinding me as I step out onto the sidewalk. I move so that I’m next to him, waiting for him to offer me his arm, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns away, and we walk up the carpeted walkway towards the front doors, ignoring the questions being thrown out from every direction around us, and not touching. Kate and Elliot both stop to smile and pose for the cameras, but Christian continues purposefully ahead without even so much as looking at the photographers calling his name. About halfway to the doors though, Christian looks up and sees his publicist standing on the steps in front of the door. She’s giving him a very stern look, motioning with her hands for him to stop for a picture.

I watch Christian’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep steadying breath, and then he turns towards the cameras. There’s a moment of hesitation in his eyes, but after taking a deep breath, he moves his right hand so that it rest on my lower back as he angles his body towards me. I look up at him uncertainly, but he doesn’t look back down at me. He’s staring blankly at all the flashing lights and so I follow his lead and smile for the photographers, hoping my face doesn’t look as hollow as I feel in this moment. This is more than being distant… he’s actively not touching me, and I have no idea what I’ve done…

“That’s enough,” I hear Christian say in a low voice and he moves his hand away from me again and then leads me forward into the building. Jacqueline scurries up next to him, giving him pointers for the rest of the evening.

“There will be photographers meandering about the party so be prepared for whatever photo ops arise. I’d definitely like to get a picture of you with the mayor for the Seattle Times,” She says very quickly. “Remember that GEH is honoring the youth of tomorrow so let’s keep the message upbeat and positive. Do you have your speech prepared?”

“Yes, I’m fine, Jacqueline,” Christian says irritably as we emerge into the ballroom. She walks us over to our table and he pulls out the chair that the name card designates as mine for me, but he doesn’t sit in his seat next to me.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I need a drink,” He says bluntly and he disappears into the crowd.

“Oh my god, Ana,” Kate says excitedly as she takes the place next to me. “It’s so beautiful in here.” She squeals as she picks up the place card with Katherine Kavanagh written across it in the delicate golden script. “Look, that’s my name!”

“That’s great, Kate,” I say placatingly and she turns to look at me, the excitement draining out of her face. “What’s going on, Ana? Are you and Christian fighting again? Is that why he’s acting like this?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” I say, shaking my head and then turn to smile as Ros and Gwen approach the table and find their seats on the other side of the chair that should be Christian’s.

“Hey, Ana. Kate,” Ros says, beaming as she sits down. “Isn’t this fantastic? And there is GEH brand placement everywhere. Ah, I’m in heaven.” She sits down in her chair and waves over my head at someone, and a few seconds later a man in a white tuxedo jacket appears with a tray of champagne flutes.

“Do you girls want a drink?” Ros asks us and I frown.

“Wait, they bring drinks to the table?” I ask.

“Of course they do,” Ros replies. “It’s a charity gala. They’re not going to make Seattle’s richest and most important people stand in line at a bar.”

“Then where did Christian go?” Kate asks, and we both begin looking around the ballroom. I try and search every face carefully as I scan the room, but it’s like trying to solve a Where’s Waldo puzzle, except my Waldo is wearing the same exact thing as everyone else.

I turn towards the entrance, thinking maybe he just needed to step outside for a minute, but as the crowd thins and I can clearly make out the entryway to the ballroom, it’s not Christian I see standing there. It’s Elena Lincoln, dressed in a black, floor length gown with a plunging neckline, her platinum hair rolled up into a complicated up-do that leaves a few loose tendrils hanging around her face. She leans up onto her tiptoes, aggressively searching the ballroom with her eyes.

“Kate.” I hiss, nodding towards the entrance and she turns to look at the doors and then stiffens.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

“One guess,” I say darkly. We watch Elena frown and then turn back into the hallway, and so I push back my chair to get up and find Christian. Once I get to my feet though, the lights dim and two members of the Columbia Tower staff close the ballroom doors. I turn to look at the main stage and a woman in an intricately embroidered silver gown walks to the podium and smiles as the crowd falls silent. I sit back in my chair and then reach into my bag to pull out my phone. I scroll through the contacts until I find Luke’s name and then send him a text message.

Do you know where Christian is?

It only takes about fifteen seconds for him to reply and I want to roll my eyes as the unkind thought that Christian could learn a thing or two from Luke crosses my mind.

Yeah, I have eyes on him. He’s not in the ballroom.

There is a round of applause around me as the woman at the podium steps aside and a man, who I think is the mayor of Seattle takes her place. I lift my hands and politely applaud until he holds his hand up for silence and begins to speak.

“Welcome ladies and gentleman, to my first Mayor’s Ball,” He begins, his voice boisterous and jovial as he looks out over the crowd. I have difficulty following most of his speech as my thoughts are occupied by Christian’s absence and what I assume he’s doing. It’s difficult, giving his mood tonight, to convince myself he’s not with Elena right now.

My stomach drops with the thought and I realize that I can’t sit here and not know where he is any longer. I stand again, apologizing as I slip away from the table and make my way to the main door. Thankfully, one of the staff members eases open the door for me and so I’m able to slip into the hallway without causing a disturbance, but the hallway is completely empty. I can hear the low echo of voices that sound like it’s coming from a large group of people so I head in that direction, but once I round the corner, Luke is in front of me, blocking my path.

“Go back into the ballroom, Ana,” He says quickly and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Where’s Christian?”

“Just go back to your seat. Please?” He replies. I stand there, trying to figure out what he’s doing when I see a movement behind him. Christian is coming around the corner, Elena’s long skirts billowing out behind her as she follows in his wake. I wait for the cold feeling I’ve come to expect from these moments to rush through me, but it doesn’t. There isn’t fiery anger, there isn’t stabbing pain, there isn’t strangling pressure that makes it feel like I can’t breathe… There’s nothing. I feel absolutely nothing and I think it’s because I knew what I was going to find. It’s hard to feel reactive anger at something you knew was going on.

Christian stops when he sees me standing next to Luke and I see the first sign of emotion break through the perfect impassive façade he’s kept up since we left Escala.

“Anastasia!” He calls when I turn around and begin walking quickly back towards the ballroom, but I don’t stop. I can hear my blood pounding in my ears, feel a tingling in my fingers. Everything around me is heightened, moving in slow motion, and as I struggle to catch my breath, I fear for a moment I might be having a panic attack.

I reach out for the door to the ballroom, yanking it back with far too much effort, but thankfully the room is alive with applause as the mayor finishes his speech and steps down. It’s loud again as people begin to once again mill about and I weave my way through the crowd towards our table until Christian’s hand wraps around my arm and he pulls me back to face him.

“Stop,” He says sharply, but he pulls his hand away from me again like he’s touched a hot iron or something. I glare at him.

“What?” I snap back. “What, Christian? What do you want?”

“What do you mean, what do I want?” He asks, looking down at me like I’ve just asked him the most ridiculous question in the world. I shake my head and take a deep breath, trying to remember that I’m standing in a room full of hundreds of people, but I’m interrupted before I can say respond to him.

“Mr. Grey,” Jacqueline says, stepping up and looking cautiously between the two of us. “They’re about to start the first dance and the photographers have asked to have you and Miss Steele positioned where they’ll have the best light. They’re waiting for you over there.”

The music begins and Christian looks up, his gaze searching the corners of the room like if he finds the speakers he can laser them down with his eyes and buy us a few more minutes.

“Later,” He says eventually, but Jacqueline frowns.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grey. It’s… It’s started. We’re on a schedule.”

“Then fuck the dance,” He snaps, and she flinches. Her mouth opens, but no words come out and I know it’s because she doesn’t know how to argue with her clearly very irritated boss, but she needs him to play his part tonight to be able to do her job successfully.

“It’s fine, Christian. Let’s just do the stupid dance,” I say. I turn and walk out onto the crowded dance floor towards the few photographers hovering around a particularly well illuminated area. When I stop, I take a deep breath and turn to face him, feeling my throat tighten as I recognize Chasing Cars playing in the background. Christian looks down at me with an almost lost expression as he hesitates for a single moment and then robotically takes my hand in his and then pulls me into him. We stand there motionless for a second, the awkward glances of each of the photographers trained on us, waiting, and then Christian sighs and pushes me backwards with his body.

We sway together, Christian leading me with the hand on my lower back that every so often grips into my dress like he’s holding onto me for dear life. I wait for the flashes to start, assuming they’ll come one by one so none of the shots are ruined by another photographer’s flash, but they don’t come.

“Can…” One of them says awkwardly after several seconds. “Can you two look like you’re having a good time or something?”

I glance over at the voice, the short, stubble cheeked man who spoke giving us a well-come-on kind of look. Turning back to Christian, I try to force a smile, or at least not look like everything that matters to me in life is suddenly slipping out of my hands, but the uncomfortable look behind Christian’s eyes lands on me like a punch in the gut and I can’t. He looks lost, worse so than he did before we got back together at the beginning of the summer. Looking at him now, it really feels like it’s over.

My eyes begin to well with tears again, but I’m still keenly aware of the photographers waiting for their photo around us. I know I’m not going to be able to fake what they want so I do the next best thing I can think of and lean forward and press my lips into Christian’s. He doesn’t react for half a second, but when he does it’s not in the way I would have hoped. His lips are tight against mine, restrained even. We’re bathed in a sudden burst of light as the cameras around us go off, and the moment they’re done and we hear Jacqueline ushering the photographers away, Christian pulls away.

I glance up at him, feeling lost. I don’t know what’s changed for him, but I can see now how much space has grown between us. I realize now that we’re at an impasse, not only are we not on the same page, we’re living in different genres. He’s not in the place yet where he can be what I need him to be and I’m not strong enough or secure enough to be the support for him that it would take to get him through this. I think this is why Dr. Flynn wanted us to wait before we jumped into a relationship together. Why he was so adamant about boundaries in the beginning. He was protecting me. He was protecting Christian. He was safeguarding this love that we have between us because it was worth protecting but we weren’t capable of doing that, and now we’ve broken it.

“Mr. Grey,” A man’s voice says and we both turn to see the Mayor standing next to us.

“Mayor McGinn,” Christian says, clearing his throat and turning to shake his hand. I step back to let the Mayor have Christian’s full attention and as they begin talking about his speech and the presentation of the scholarship later, I feel the emotion of the reality of what’s happening creeping up into my throat and I know that I have to get away from the hundreds of people around me before I fall apart.

“Ana!” Kate calls, smiling broadly as Elliot twirls her around the floor, but when I turn to look for her, a tear breaks over my water line and rolls down my cheek, and her smile disappears. I watch her say something to Elliot and then come after me as I turn again and make my way for the doors.

Luke is waiting in the hallway, and the moment he sees me sobbing into my hand, he straightens immediately and then ushers me away from the ballroom, and into a deserted corridor with Kate silently following after us. The moment I’m out of sight from the main hallway, I feel myself unravel.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I sob through my broken breathing. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

“What happened?” Kate ask.

“I found him with Elena again. When he was gone, he was with her. It’s just never ending, Kate. Every time I think he’s getting it, or that we’re going to move forward, he drags me back. I don’t want to do this with him anymore, I don’t want to compete with her anymore. I shouldn’t feel like it’s me against the two of them but I do because he always goes back to her.”

“No. No you shouldn’t,” Kate says. “That’s not okay.”

“I know,” I nod. “But what do I do? I try to talk to him, I try to fight with him, I try to ignore it, I’m constantly trying to reassure him, but nothing changes. It’s exhausting, and it hurts.”

My face begins to feel tight as the tears cut through the makeup on my face, and Kate closes the distance between us, pulling me into her so that I’m sobbing purple stained tears onto her dress. “What do I do, Kate?” I ask again.

“I think you need to leave him,” Luke says quietly, his voice sounding hoarse as he gets the words out. I look over at him, his expression serious, and then look at Kate. Her lips are pursed together, like she’s holding something back.

“Kate?”

“I was with you when he was in New York. I saw firsthand what he’s doing to you. Relationships aren’t supposed to be this miserable, Ana. He’s supposed to make you happy.”

“Are you happy?” Luke asks. I take a deep breath, the sobs finally subdued enough that I can calm down enough to speak normally.

Am I happy? I really don’t know the answer to that. There’s so much good in being with Christian that I don’t want to let go. Not just the sex, which is absolutely incredible, but also emails in the middle of the day that are just to tell me how beautiful I am, weekends decorating his apartment together, his carefree, slightly vindictive attitude when I lost to him in Monopoly, watching him rebuild my dad’s fence, the way he did everything he could to save my chance at having a phone call with my dad on Father’s Day, dancing around his living room to Adele, old black and white movies… the list goes on and on. I love him, maybe more than is good for me, and I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want to lose myself either, and I’m afraid that if I stay, that’s what’s going to happen.

“I don’t know,” I answer. “There’s a lot of good. More good than bad, but the bad is…” I shake my head.

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourself for him, Ana,” Luke says, and Kate nods.

“It’s like he’s got you in this box where he can do anything and he can fuck up as many time as he wants because it’s somehow become your responsibility to save him from Elena. That is not your responsibility, that’s not Elliot’s responsibility, that’s not anyone’s responsibility. It comes down to him admitting his mistakes and letting her go. Maybe in order to do that, he needs to see that there are consequences for hurting the people who he says he loves,” Kate adds.

“I did that once, Kate. It made everything worse. It’s the reason we’re here.”

“So you don’t save him,” Luke says. “Maybe he can’t be saved, Ana. That’s not your fault and you don’t have to go down on his burning ship because he got himself into a mess that he can’t get himself out of. You’ve done what you can. Maybe it’s time you cut your losses and step away.”

I reach up and dash the tears of my eyes, smearing the black eyeliner over my index finger. “So, what am I supposed to do, just let Elena have him? I don’t think I can do that. I can’t let her win. Not after everything she’s done.”

“Ana,” I hear Christian voice and I look up and see him standing at the end of the hallway, looking at me with a gaunt, hollow expression. I stare back at him, wondering how much he heard, but the imploring look in his eyes tells me that however much it was, it was enough. “Ana, I-,” He begins, lost for words. I can see him searching for something, anything, to say to me, but coming up short. Eventually he nods to himself and walks forward, closing the space between us. “Just, come with me. Please.”

“I don’t think this is the time or place for…” Kate begins but Christian shoots her a menacing look to silence her.

“I think you’ve said enough tonight, Kate,” He snaps at her. Her eyes widen with repulsed indignation and I know that she’s about to tell him off but Luke is the one who speaks next.

“No. Go with him, Ana,” He says quietly.

“What?” Kate asks, turning a sharp look on him.

“Just, trust me,” He says, imploring me more so than Kate. “Go.”

I look at him for a minute, confused. I kind of agree with Kate in this situation… I need to talk to Christian, say my peace and lay everything out on the table so that we know if we’re going to be able to move on from here, but surely the Mayor’s Ball isn’t the place to do that. Luke’s purposeful gaze doesn’t waver though, and if he’s asking for me to trust him, maybe he knows something I don’t. I nod and then pick up the hem of my dress so that I can follow Christian down the empty corridor.

We round a corner and head towards a smaller, conference sized room. When we step inside, the dread I feel at what is coming is pushed aside to make room for confusion, when I find Taylor along with two military personnel sitting around the table which is taking up most of the room.

“Hold a minute, sir,” Taylor says. He pulls a cell phone away from his ear and then holds it out for me. I give Christian a confused look but he nods.

“Take it,” He says, and so I reach out and take the phone out of Taylor’s hand and put it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Annie?” The voice responds, and it feels as though my heart stops beating and then jumps up into my throat.

“Daddy?” I whisper, too shocked for find any kind of strength in my voice.

“Hey, baby girl!” He says, his voice breaking a little, and the small quiver is enough to send me back into hysteric sobs.

“Oh my god, hi,” I cry into the phone.

“Don’t cry, Annie,” He says, although I can hear that he is. “God, it’s so good to hear your voice. I missed you so much. How are you? How’s your summer been?”

“Uh… it’s been… it’s been good,” I stutter, hoping the tears still pouring out of me will cover the lack of conviction in my words. I wasn’t expecting this precious moment and I don’t know how long I’ll get, so I don’t want to ruin it by letting what’s happening now affect this chance I get to talk to my dad. Focus on the positive, Ana. “I got my grades back a few weeks ago, I still have a 4.0. My book is being edited over the summer and the head of the English Department at Harvard is going to try and help me get published by the end of next term. And I have an amazing internship this summer. I’m uh, kind of, almost, running a publishing company.”

“What?” My dad asks, shocked.

“I got a job running the implementation for a holding company in Seattle that bought a publishing house. I’m in charge of leading the turnaround, making changes, implementing new policies… I even have creative control over a new reading device that the parent company is inventing through its technology division.”

“Annie, that’s just incredible, sweetheart. I mean, I always knew that you were special, and that you were going to do amazing things, but to have that opportunity at twenty one years old? I hope you know what an accomplishment that really is. I’m so proud of you. You really are doing remarkable things, kid.”

I swallow the lump building in my throat. Those words are the single most important thing he could say to me and the relief of hearing them is instantaneous. My dad has never been one to shy away from telling me how much he loves me or how proud of me he is. He’s done incredible things for me my entire life, the greatest of which is this sacrifice that he’s made to put his own life on hold and even risk his life in active duty combat to pay for my dreams of going to school at Harvard… My biggest fear is that he’ll come home and feel like I’ve wasted the opportunity he gave me. I would never be able to live with the guilt of that and so to hear him say that he’s proud of what I’ve accomplished in his absence, that means everything to me.

“Thanks, Dad. I think about you over there a lot, every day, and it’s really put things into perspective for me. I know what you’ve given up to give me this chance and I promise you that I’m not going to waste it. I’m never going to be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done for me. But I want you to know that I know that I couldn’t have done any of this without you and I appreciate you. I love you, Daddy. I miss you. And I can’t wait for you to come home. It’ll be my turn to take care of you, and I will. I promise.”

“Annie, I’m just trying to give you the life that you deserve. I don’t want me not being able to provide something for you to be the reason you get held back. I have not had a single second of regret coming over here because I know that you deserve to be where you are, and you’ve proved what I’ve always known to be true. You’ve grown into an amazing woman and I’m proud that I’ve had something to do with that. That’s enough for me. You don’t have to take care of me. Although, it looks like you already are. How’d you get this phone call, anyway? I tried everything I could think of and they just flat out told me no.”

I glance up at Christian, who is staring at me expectantly. I know he’s waiting for me to talk about him. Ray doesn’t know about Christian and this was supposed to be the time I told my father about him and about everything we have… Christian’s been waiting for that and now that my dad has asked, this is supposed to be the moment.

“My boss got it for me,” I say, shifting my eyes away from Christian, and staring uncomfortably down at the floor. “He heard about what happened on Father’s Day, that I missed your call, and he wanted to help. He’s got contacts in the military, I guess, and a lot of money. He worked a miracle.”

“He sounds like quite the upstanding man to do that for an intern. You’ll thank him for me right? You’ll tell him what his kindness means to me?” My Dad asks.

I look up at Christian again but immediately have to look away from the look of shock on his face. I can’t face that right now, not while I still have Ray on the phone. I know this is going to feel like a betrayal to him, a real, deep rooted betrayal that is probably justified, but I can’t do it. Not with the way things are between us. I don’t even know if we’re going to make it through tonight and having Ray separated from Christian was what helped me get though our last breakup. One good thing untouched by Christian Grey.

“Annie? Did I lose you?” My dad asks.

“No, no I’m still here. I’ll tell him, Dad. I promise.”

There is a knock on the door and Jacqueline sticks her head inside. “Excuse me, Mr. Grey,” She whispers. “GEH is up. They’re ready for you in the ballroom.”

He nods and shoots a pained look back at me before following her out the room and closes the door behind him. I gasp as the tears start again.

“Annie, it’s okay,” My dad consoles me. “I’ve only got a few more months left. I’ll be back home soon and I won’t have to go away again. Soon, we’ll look back on this time apart and it will feel inconsequential compared to everything else.”

“I know, Daddy,” I say sadly.

“They’re telling me I’ve got to get off the phone now, Annie,” He says.

“What? No! Not yet, I’ve just barely gotten to talk to you…”

“I know, I’m sorry. Write me a letter, and I’ll write to you. It’s a long time ’til Thanksgiving so I’ll tell you now that I love you, more than anything else in the world.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” I tell him.

“Bye-bye, baby girl. Be safe, and keep working hard.”

“I will,” I promise. “Bye.”

The phone goes dead but I continue to hold it to my ear, letting my dad’s words play through my head over and over. I’m not ready yet to leave this room and face what’s waiting for me out there, but as the military men begin packing up and I’m forced to hand Taylor back his phone, I realize there’s nothing left for me in this room and so I turn to leave.

Both Kate and Luke are waiting outside and Kate immediately rushes forward and brushes her thumbs under my eyes to try and fix the damage to my makeup, but I just can’t find it in me to care about something that’s so trivial right now.

“Leave it,” I tell her. “I want to go. I can’t be here anymore.”

“Okay, we’ll call a cab,” She says. I reach down to take off my shoes, letting the floor length dress billow around my feet as I take Kate’s hand and we walk quickly back down the hallway. I can hear the voice of the woman who opened the ceremony earlier over the loudspeaker, her words coming clearer as we approach the ballroom.

“…and Executive of the Year, please give a warm welcome to the CEO and Founder of Grey Enterprises Holdings, Mr. Christian Grey!”

There is a thunderous round of applause and I stop to stare through the open door as Christian steps up to the podium. To the untrained eye, I imagine that he looks every bit the confident CEO, unshaken under the spotlights and hundreds of eyes trained on him. But even in the image of him on the giant projection screen behind him, I can see the pain in the flat gray of his eyes.

“Let’s go, Ana,” Luke encourages me and I give him an uncertain look.

“I-I…” I stutter, turning back to look at Christian as he gives his speech in the ballroom.

“We’ve got to go now. He’ll stop you if you wait until he’s finished,” Luke says and I take a deep breath and then nod as he ushers Kate and I down the hallway towards the exit.

Thankfully, we’re able to hail a cab almost instantly when we get outside so it takes us less than twenty minutes to get back to Escala. The moment the elevator releases us into the apartment, Kate and Luke jump into action. Luke starts pulling my clothes out of drawers while Kate heads into the bathroom to gather all of my toiletries. I stand back, watching them throwing my things into suitcases and duffle bags like I’m simply a passive observer and everything going on around me is out of my control.

“There’s shampoo at my house, so we can leave whatever is in the shower,” Kate says as she stuffs my makeup bag into a suitcase. “What about your apartment downstairs? Is there anything left in there that you need?”

“I-I…” I stutter. I look down at my suitcase, my eyes focused on the sleeve of a jacket Christian had bought for me last week sticking out over the side.

“I can’t do this,” I say quickly, and Kate gives me a concern look.

“I know. That’s why we’re taking you to my house.”

“No, I can’t leave. I can’t just sneak out. This is wrong,” I say, shaking my head, and without actually knowing what I’m doing, I move over to my suitcase and being pulling things out.

“Ana,” Luke says, placing his hand over mine to stop me. “You can always come back but you might not always be able to leave. If you’re going to talk, it’s better that you do it on neutral ground. Not in his apartment.”

“I don’t want to run away, Luke, I just…”

“Ana!” I hear Christian’s voice echo through the apartment and both Kate and Luke freeze.

“Fuck,” Luke hisses, and he picks up my half packed suitcase, zips it closed, and hands it to Kate. Christian comes through the bedroom door, his eyes darting between the three of us before they eventually fall on my suitcase in Kate’s hand.

“You’re leaving?” He asks, looking up at me with panic in his eyes. I stare back at him, speechless, as I don’t really know what I’m doing right now. “Please, Ana. I…” He begins as he walks towards me, but he stops when Luke steps in front of me and blocks his way.

“What the fuck are you doing, Sawyer?” Christian asks, angrily.

“I’m taking Anastasia to Kate’s house,” He says simply. “She wants to go, I’m helping her leave.”

“Like hell you are,” Christian snaps. “Get out of my way.”

“No,” Luke replies, and Christian’s eyes freeze over.

“Careful, Sawyer,” He says, a dangerous warning beneath his voice. “Remember, you work for me. Not her.”

“Then I quit,” Luke says. “I’m taking her with me.”

I can see Christian physically shaking as he stares back into Luke’s impassive gaze. I step forward and put my hand on Luke’s arm.

“Luke, it’s okay.”

“Ana…”

“Just give us a minute, okay?” I ask and he stares at me uncertainly for a moment. I give him an imploring look, silently begging him to just go because I know that he’s only making this whole situation worse. This isn’t how I want to do this anyway. If I’m going to leave, I don’t want it to be because I’m running away.

“Fine,” Luke says at last. “I’ll be downstairs. If you need me, call me.”

I nod and he turns to give a cold, warning look at Christian before he leaves the room, Kate hurrying out behind him with the handle of my suitcase still clutched in her hand. Christian turns around and slams the bedroom door closed behind them, his shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I can’t let you go, Ana,” He says quietly. “I can’t watch you walk away from me again. I can’t. You promised me that you wouldn’t leave, that you weren’t going anywhere.”

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Christian. Can’t you see what it’s doing to me? This is killing me. Every time you run off to her, it kills me.”

“I didn’t run off to her.”

“I saw you with her!”

“She found me. I was with Taylor. I told her to leave and she wouldn’t and so I left and that’s when you saw us. I was leaving her, I was going to you.”

“I don’t believe you, Christian. You’ve lied to me about her too many times, you’ve gone behind my back with her too many times.”

“That’s done with. I told you that the other day. I’m sorry that I called her on my birthday, Ana, but that’s not what happened tonight. I’m done with her. I’m done, I promise you.”

I shake my head, wanting to believe the words he’s saying to me but I just… don’t. How could I after the way he’s been all night? “I’m sorry, Christian. I just don’t believe you.”

He lets out a short, harsh breath at my rejection, shaking his head incredulously. “Is that why you didn’t tell your dad about me?” He asks. “Because you were going to leave me tonight, so why bother?”

“I didn’t tell my dad about you because if I did, that’s what he would want to talk about. You’re the only serious boyfriend I’ve ever had, Christian. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. I didn’t want to spend the few minutes I had with my father lying to him, because he would want to hear how happy I am, but I am not happy.”

He turns away from me, his hands shooting up into his hair in frustration as he paces the floor a few times. “What more can I give you, Anastasia? I do everything I can to make you happy. Do you know what it took to get you that phone call tonight? Do you know what it took to get you back into Harvard? I bought a fucking company for you to give you your dream job. What more can I do?”

“You can let me in!” I shout at him. “I didn’t ask for you to buy me a publishing company, I didn’t ask for you to get me that phone call. I love that you care enough to do those things and when I’m not so angry with you, I really do want to talk to you about how much I appreciate what you did for me tonight, but what I want from you, is to put down your walls and talk to me. Stop turning to Elena Lincoln and turn to me. Let me be the one to help you.”

His mouth tightens into a thin line and he looks down at the floor, shaking his head, and the tears burst out of me again. “Why, Christian?” I ask, pleading now as this is the question that I need answers to. “Why won’t you let me in?”

“Because I don’t trust you,” He says flatly, and as his words hang between us, I actually have to reorient myself.

“You don’t trust me?” I ask skeptically.

“No, I don’t trust you, Anastasia,” He says.

“What have I done to make you not trust me, Christian? And I swear to god, if you say anything about Luke right now, I’m going to lose it because you know for a fact…”

“Do you realize that you haven’t told me that you love me even once since you’ve been back?” He interrupts me, and I look back at him, puzzled. “I tell you that I love you every day and you haven’t said it even one time.”

“That’s ridiculous…”

“No it’s not. You don’t think I notice every fucking time I say it to you and you don’t say it back. I love you, Anastasia.”

“Christian, this isn’t…”

“Jesus, you can’t even say it!” He interrupts me. “You don’t, do you? What was this summer to you, Anastasia? Were you using me? Playing house with me to keep me happy so you could get through your internship and then leave and shut me out again? Or was I just a good fuck? It’d been a while for you, right? Is that what this was about?”

“No, of course not. Christian, how could you say that?”

“Then answer me right now. Do you love me, Anastasia?”

I stare back at him for a moment, his gaze burning into me with such intensity it feels as though it’s boring into me. “Of course I love you, Christian. I love you so much that sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe when I’m not around you. You’re all I think about, you’re all dream about. You’re my entire world.”

“Then we can work this out,” He says, “Ana, I know it hasn’t been perfect, but that doesn’t mean that we should quit. We did that before and we were both miserable. You’re the person I’m supposed to be with. You’ve changed me. You’ve changed my life and all of the plans I’ve ever made for the future. Everything I think about, I think about in relation to you. I want to provide for you, I want to care for you, I want to give you your hopes and your dreams. I want to give you the best life I can, because I love you and I want you to be mine. I know it’s been hard, but I’m trying…”

“You’re not trying, Christian! You’re giving up. Just a couple hours ago, you told me you’re quitting therapy. That’s not trying!”

His mouth sets in a firm line. “Therapy isn’t helping me, Anastasia. You think Flynn is the first therapist I’ve ever seen? I’ve been through every kind of therapy imaginable since I was four years old and it’s all been a waste of time. I don’t need another doctor forcing me to recount every bullshit thing that’s ever happened to me to know that I’ve lived a fucked up life. That I’m fucked up. I’m very well aware of that fact. A psychiatrist can’t change that and I can’t face it anymore.”

“But you have to, Christian. You’re not going to be able to move on until you accept and deal with what’s happened to you. I know it’s hard…”

“You don’t know anything, Anastasia!” He shouts at me. “You didn’t have a mother who didn’t want you. You didn’t spend your nights as a kid locked in a closet terrified that your mother’s fucking pimp was going to find you and beat the shit out of you. You didn’t have to sit at three years old and listen to your mother scream while she was raped in the other room. You didn’t spend years being silent because you knew that you were a fucked up little shit and you were terrified your new, perfect family would find out and take you back to where you came from. You don’t know what it’s like to spend your entire life paralyzed by fear every time someone touches you. You don’t know what it’s like to find the one person whose touch isn’t bad, who loves you and makes you feel worthy of that love for the first time in your life and then have to live with the fact that you’ve not only driven them away but that you’ve broken them too because you’re so fucked up that you destroy everything around you.”

I stand there, silent and shaking. There it is. I asked for him to open up and he’s given me a window of insight. But, now that he has, now that I can hear the horrid, vile way he sees himself, I’m stunned. I don’t know what to say to that.

“Christian…” I say, my voice breaking as I open my arms and walk towards him but he puts his hands in front of him and backs away.

“Don’t,” He warns me and I stop immediately. Slowly, he lowers his hands and then takes a deep breath. “Why do you think I cut my family out after you left, Anastasia? I knew I’d done enough damage to the people I love. That’s why I don’t turn to you. That’s why I turn to Elena, because she’s just as fucked up as I am, but now…” His voice cuts off.

But now?

I stare at him cautiously, waiting through the silence that feels as though it goes on forever until he finally speaks again. He looks up at me and I can see the pain etched on his face. He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, resting his face in his hands for a moment.

“I did what you asked,” He says. “I told Flynn about our night in Montesano and our conversation the next morning, and I told him I wanted to talk about why I didn’t want you to be a submissive.”

“And… what happened?” I ask. I want to go and sit next to him, but after his clear refusal of my touch, I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now.

“We talked a lot about when I was Elena’s submissive. The things we did together, the things she did to me, the things she made me do to her. We talked about the rules. And then, we talked about the punishments. We talked a lot about the punishments. You asked me the other night if she ignored my safe words, if that was the reason I kept reminding you of them…” He shakes his head. “She didn’t ignore my safe words, she made me ashamed of them. She made me feel like I would be weak if I used them and then she tried to hurt me. She tried to see how far she could push me to force me to say those words, knowing that I wouldn’t. It was a game to her. It’s not supposed to be like that. When we were upstairs on my birthday and I was going to hit you… I didn’t want to hurt you, Anastasia, and I was afraid that you were going to let me. The way that I let her hurt me.”

“Christian, I’m so sorry,” I whisper and he looks up at me with a pained expression.

“What she did to me wasn’t BDSM,” He says. “It was abuse. Tonight, when I went to see Flynn, I saw it clearly for the first time. She abused me and then made me justify it to myself by getting me off. I was a kid. I was just a kid… I trusted her and she used that trust to molest me. I didn’t see it before. I refused to see it before because I didn’t want to feel like this. It doesn’t make me feel better to know what she did to me. I don’t want to feel this. It makes me angry. It disgusts me. It makes me never want to touch you, or make love to you again because now my body feels like it belongs to her, like she took it from me, and I don’t want to taint you with it.”

His last words make my stomach roil and clench uncomfortably. I feel my hands trembling as I yearn to reach out and touch him, to wrap him in my arms and hold him until he doesn’t feel this way anymore.

“You know there’s almost a sense of poetic justice to all of this,” He says with a dark, humorless laugh. “Now that I see it, now that I realize what she’s done to me, I want her to pay for it. I want justice for what happened to me but she made me give her that too.”

“Maybe… maybe there’s something we can do. Maybe we could try again and we could say that you committed perjury under duress. We could have Flynn testify to all the therapy you’ve done, that you’ve only just now understood what it was that she’s done to you.”

He shakes his head and looks down at his shoes. “I don’t want to put my family through that again, especially not my Dad. I don’t want to relive this anymore, I just want to leave it behind me.”

I frown and then take a tentative step closer to him, checking to see where the boundaries are between us right now, and the second I move, his body reacts. It’s subtle, but not unnoticeable. He automatically shifts, almost defensively, and he looks up at me. I stop and he takes a deep breath and continues.

“I’m going to give her thirty days,” He says. “She can buy the salons from me if she wants them and if she doesn’t, I’ll sell them to someone else. They’re profitable, it shouldn’t be hard to find a buyer. I’ll break them apart if I have to.”

“You mean… you’re going to get rid of Esclava?”

“Yeah. Honestly, part of me wants to get rid of my whole fucking company. It’s tainted by her and what she did to me and the lengths that I went to in order to justify it myself.”

“No, Christian. That’s not true. She gave you money, but that’s it. GEH is what it is because you made it that way. You built it, not her. You shouldn’t feel ashamed for your success because she gave you your start. She owed you that. She owes you so much more that she will never be able to pay back to you and you don’t have to feel anything for her anymore. She doesn’t deserve your pain. If you don’t want to take legal action for what she did to you, then that’s something that you’re going to have to find peace within yourself for, but if you want to move on and leave her behind, then I want to be with you going forward.”

“You do?” He asks, his face softening slightly as he looks at me with hope, the first thing other than anguish that I’ve seen in his eyes since he came back from therapy tonight.

“I do. I love you, Christian Grey.”

“You’re not going to leave?” He asks, and even as he seeks validation, I can hear the doubt in his voice. “You’re not going to run?”

“No,” I say firmly so that there can be no doubt. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you, Christian. There’s nowhere else I want to be.”

“Oh, thank god,” He gasps. He stands from the bed and charges at me as though he’s going to sweep me into his arms, but he stops a few feet in front of me, his hands frozen in midair, and he looks down at his fingers like he’s not sure what to do with them.

He still doesn’t want to touch me and the visual of him standing in front of me, the usually completely self-assured, confident CEO now addled and so uncertain, it nearly eviscerates me on a deep, existential level and I feel tears prick in my eyes again.

“Come with me,” I say, my voice quivering, and I turn and lead him into the bathroom. I make my way to the shower, twist the handle for the hot water, and then turn to face him again. I reach up for my zipper and ease it down and as I step out of my gown, he too begins to undress. I take a washcloth out of the cabinet and we step into the shower. Again, the temperature of the water is hotter than I prefer, but I want Christian to be comfortable, so without complaint, I reach down, pick up the body wash and pour it onto the now damp washcloth.

“I’m going to touch you,” I warn him and he looks down at the wash cloth in my hand and the nods. Slowly, I lift the cloth up to his body, trying to ignore the pain that lances through me when at first he flinches away from my touch, and then I begin to wash him.

I’m thorough, taking my time as I scrub the washcloth over his body, adding more soap as I need, and the more of him I clean, the more I feel him relax.

“There,” I whisper, when I’m finished. I step aside to let the water rinse away the remaining suds that cover his body, but he reaches out and pulls me back into the water with him. He doesn’t press his body into mine the way he would have only yesterday, but I’m only just not touching him now and he holds onto my arms for a moment before his hands move up to each side of my face. He tilts my face up to his and he stares deeply into my eyes.

“I love you, Anastasia,” He says.

“I love you, too, Christian,” I reply, and slowly, he leans down and gently presses his lips into mine.

Next Chapter

I go to bed that night alone and I’m asleep before Christian joins me. When I wake up the next morning, the after effect of our argument the night before is blatant. Christian is on his side with his back to me, rolled over as far to the edge of his side as he can go, and so am I. I roll over onto my other side and stare at him sleeping peacefully across from me, so far away, I couldn’t touch him if I wanted to. Do I want to? I don’t even know the answer to that right now and honestly, that makes me extremely uncomfortable. I don’t want it to be like this between us, but I’m at a loss. I don’t know how to fix this…

I gnaw on my lip as I roll out of bed and start an emotional inventory, trying to sort through exactly what I’m feeling and what I want. But I don’t feel anything. I’m numb.

This is all just so confusing. I love him, I want him, and part of me feels like I need him, but I feel like I’m being hit by a train every other day and it’s too much. This isn’t sustainable, I can’t keep doing this, but leaving…

No. No, I can’t leave. If I walk out, it will break Christian apart and the ripple effect will have devastating consequences for all of the people that I love. I can’t do that to Elliot, or Grace, any of them… But I can’t do this either. I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I make my way to the kitchen to start the coffee, unable to come to any conclusions. I don’t think there are miraculous solutions to what we’re going through.

“Good morning, Ana,” Gail says as I step into the kitchen and it makes me jump.

“Gail,” I say, stepping back and placing my hand over my heart while I reorient myself. “You scared me, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be down here. How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” She says. “Can I make you some breakfast?”

“Uh, sure… Thank you,” I tell her and she turns around for the refrigerator as she sets to work making breakfast. I watch her for a moment, enjoying the soft sounds of eggs frying in the pan and her low hum as she retrieves butter and jam for the toast.

“I saw the cake you baked for Mr. Grey’s birthday,” She says. “It was beautiful.”

“Oh, well there’s plenty left over, help yourself,” I tell her. “Take some back for Taylor too.”

“I’m sure he’d like that,” She smiles at me and as she sets a plate down in front of me, she looks up and smiles. “Good Morning, Mr. Grey.”

“Mrs. Jones,” He says flatly, coming up behind me, and my heart sinks at the still too cold tone of his voice.

“Would you like some breakfast, Sir?” She asks.

“No, I’m on my way out.”

I frown. “It’s Saturday. Where are you going?”

“Out,” He says, plainly and I turn an accusatory look on him.

“To her?”

His body tenses as he looks up at me. “To Flynn.”

“Oh,” I say, relaxing back into my seat and feeling a little guilty over my assumption. No, I shouldn’t feel guilty. If he wasn’t lying to me about her all the time, I wouldn’t always have to question his motives.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” He says and he leans over, kisses my hair, and then leaves. I stare after him until the elevator doors close and sigh. Hopefully he’ll come back from his session in a better mood and we can talk about what happened last night.

I try to pass the time that Christian is gone by hitting the gym upstairs, but I haven’t been keeping up with my daily jogging routine so I’m not able to run for as long as I would like. I come downstairs thirty minutes later, completely wiped out and only having completed just over three miles. I take a shower and even spend extra time blowing out and straightening my hair, but by the time I’m finished, Christian still isn’t back.

I head out to the living room, deciding to read and wait for him to return on the couch, but the second I sit down, my phone rings.

“Hey, Luke,” I say, as I pick up.

“Hey, what’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

“Oh, yeah. Christian’s birthday was yesterday so we’ve been busy.”

“Really, how was that?”

“It was… fine, I guess. He bought a yacht and we had dinner at home,” I tell him, as I play with one of the loose strands in the blanket draped over the back of the couch. I don’t really want to talk about Christian’s birthday so I change the subject. “Have you found anything on Elena leaking photos to the press?”

“Not yet,” He says, the disappointment clear in his voice. “If she’s sending them from a fake account, I have to get into TMZ’s system to find where the emails are coming from before I can find a way to trace it back to her. That wouldn’t be a problem, except that I can’t use Welch without Mr. Grey finding out, so I have to do it on my own. My hacking skills leave something to be desired…”

“Yeah, well… It might not matter. I don’t even know if Christian would do anything about it if you found the proof anyway.”

“Uh oh,” He says, cautiously. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “I just… I found out he’s still talking to Elena about personal things last night.”

Luke is quiet for several beats, and I picture him sitting on the other line, brow furrowed and eyes darting back and forth as he tries to think of something to say to make it better. But I know from this morning, there aren’t words to fix this. There can only be action and at this point, I need a little more give from Christian.

“Do you want me to come and get you?” He asks at last.

“No,” I tell him. “Running away isn’t going to help anyone, and you’ll be permanently fired if he thinks you’re the reason I’ve left. Besides, I promised his family that I’m here to stay and to help. I think I’m the only one who can. I’m not ready to give up on him yet. I just… I don’t want let him go.”

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Luke,” I tell him.

“Are you happy, Ana?” He asks and his question takes me so much by surprise that my breath catches in my throat. Happy? Now? I don’t know how to answer that…

The elevator pings and my head jerks to the side as Christian steps into the foyer. I’m glad to note the brief feeling of relief that crosses over me when I see him. I’m happy he’s home, that’s a good sign.

“I’ve got to go, Luke,” I say quickly.

“Ana…”

“I’ll call you later,” I tell him and I hang up the phone and watch Christian walk into the great room. His face is marred by the same sense of stress and fatigue he came home with the last time he saw Flynn, and I look worriedly at him as he comes up behind the couch.

“Hey,” I say cautiously and he swallows.

“I love you, Anastasia,” He says, his voice shaking slightly, like he’s about to give me bad news, and it freaks me out. What did he talk about with Flynn? “I know that you’re mad at me and you deserve to be, but I… I just need you to know that I love you. More than anything in this world, I am in love with you and I’m sorry that I lied to you last night. I don’t know why I-” He stops abruptly, shakes his head and then continues with new direction. “I called her last night because I was struggling with… some things. It had nothing to do with you, it was about me, and she was the easy person to talk to. She tells me what I want to hear. She doesn’t make me deal with any of my shit, it’s just easier.”

I open my mouth, trying to think of what to say to him but nothing comes out. Thankfully though, he’s not looking for a response because as I sit there, trying to force myself to speak, he holds a hand to stop me.

“I’ve resented you for running away from me two years ago. I’ve worn that around like a chip on my shoulder and I’ve used it to justify a lot of the things I’ve done, that I’m still doing. But you’re right, Ana. I run away from you all the time. I did it when things got hard for me back at Harvard, I did it when I was in New York last week, and I did it again last night. I’m sorry. It’s difficult for me to talk to you when I’m uncertain of myself because I don’t want you to see me that way. I want to be everything to you. I want to move mountains and do the impossible. That’s how I want you to think of me. I want to think that I’m worthy of you because I’m terrified of losing you again. But I think I’m about to so, I want to tell you that I love you, and that I’m sorry for what happened last night, and that I’m trying. Really, I am.”

I feel the pricks of tears behind my eyes at his vulnerable confession and he stares down at me, waiting for reassurance. “Do you know what I think about when I look at you, Christian?” I ask him. He swallows and shakes his head. “Principles of Helicopter Flight, 3rd Edition.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“It was a book recommendation you made for Astor Harrington. I’m an English student, I judge people a lot based on the books they read. He told me it was boring, like you, and I wanted to see what he meant. I work at a library and I have a lot of free time on my hands, so I looked through it and he was right. It was the most complicated, technical, dull book I’ve ever picked up. But you read it, and you knew everything from it because you wanted to fly helicopters. Christian, you built one of the most successful companies in the country at nineteen. You win awards for your business acumen. You’re on lists of the most important people, and you won Man of the Year. I know how incredible you are, but those aren’t the things I think of when I think of you. I think of your ambition, your tenacity, your will, your perseverance, and your heart. You’re generous, and kind, and you have a capacity for love that is mind boggling at times. You don’t have to move mountains and do the impossible to be worthy of me Christian. You already are, flaws and all. I don’t want you to be perfect, I’m not perfect. I just want you to be honest with me and let me in.”

“I’m sorry,” He says again. “I don’t want to fight with you, Anastasia.”

“I don’t want to fight with you either.”

He walks around the couch, removing the barrier between us, and sits next to me. I crawl into his lap and his arms wrap around me, holding me tightly to him. We sit there for a moment, not saying anything.

“Are we okay?” He asks.

I take a deep breath. “I meant what I said, Christian,” I tell him. “I don’t care what Flynn says, I can’t do this with you and her anymore. You can’t have us both. She goes or I do.”

“Hard limit,” He agrees with a nod. I stare at him for a moment, waiting for any hesitation, but it doesn’t come. My lips press together and nod.

“Then, yeah… I think we’re okay,” I tell him.

“Good. I uh… I have some things to take care of this afternoon, but maybe tonight we could order in and watch a movie. I hear you’re fond of It Happened One Night. I’d love to watch it with you.”

“Ugh, no. I’ve seen that way too many times,” I say with a giggle and he smiles down at me.

“I love that sound,” He tells me and he leans down and kisses me softly. It’s sweet and tender and as I feel the love pouring from him again, I feel the tension in my body relax. “I’ve got to get some work done. Pick a movie. Thinking of holding you on this couch tonight will help get me through the day.”

“Okay,” I sigh, and he kisses me once more before getting up and heading off to his office.

The next morning, I wake up feeling a rush of excitement. It’s Father’s Day and after months of waiting, I’m going to get to talk to Ray today. I immediately turn to my iPhone on the nightstand and check for any missed calls, but thankfully, there aren’t any. I double check that the volume is turned all the way up, and then take it with me as I climb out of bed.

It’s a long morning as I wait anxiously for my phone to ring. I find myself looking down at it every few seconds, watching the minutes tick by on the clock, and double checking the volume on the ringer over and over again. Of course it never changes, but I’m inpatient. Unfortunately, these calls aren’t scheduled, so I have no idea when it’s going to come in and after everything I’ve gone through over the past few weeks, I need to talk to my dad.

“Ana, you’re going to kill your battery checking it over and over like that,” Christian scolds me as we pull into his parents’ driveway later that afternoon, and I look over at him in panic.

“Did we bring a charger?” I ask.

“Relax,” He says. “There are only eight thousand iPhone and iPod chargers in this house. You’re not going to miss his call, I promise you. You don’t have to watch your phone like it’s a bomb or something.”

I nod and then step out of the car. Christian wraps his hand around mine as we make our way up the long walk to the door, and I slip my phone into my back pocket so that I won’t be tempted to be rude and stare down at it like a crazy person while we’re greeted by his family.

“Mom? Dad?” Christian calls as we step through the front door.

“In here!” Grace calls back and we walk into the living room to find Grace and Carrick sitting on the couch together. Grace gets up, her arms held open wide for each of us, and Carrick follows behind her.

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad,” Christian says, handing him a plain, metallic colored gift bag, but Grace snatches it away.

“Not yet,” She chides him. “We’ll open gifts after lunch.”

“Fine,” Christian says, rolling his eyes. “Where is everyone?”

“Out back,” Carrick says. He nods his head to the back door and as Christian claps his hand on his father’s shoulder and then begins walking towards the back yard, Carrick turns and wraps me in a hug.

“It’s good to see you, Ana. I’m so happy we have you here to celebrate with us,” He says warmly.

“Thanks, Carrick,” I smile.

Grace wraps her arm around me as we follow Christian out the back door where we find Mia, Elliot, and Kate throwing a football to one another.

“Christian!” Elliot calls, excitedly. “Excellent. Come get in on this. We’ll play a little two on two.”

Christian nods to his brother and then turns to me. “Do you want to play?” He asks.

“I think that would ruin two on two,” I say pointedly.

“We’ll make it work. Elliot needs an extra person on his team anyway, he’s terrible,” Christian says and I laugh.

“You go ahead, I’m going to wait for my Dad to call.”

“Come join us when he does,” Christian says, kissing my forehead, and the he waves to his brother and runs out into the lawn.

“I forgot your Dad is calling today, Ana,” Grace says brightly as she pours me a glass of iced tea. “That must be exciting for you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been neurotic all morning waiting for my phone to ring,” I reply.

“He’ll call soon,” She says, patting my leg reassuringly as she takes the seat next to me. Carrick sits too and we watch the game taking place a few feet away in the yard.

“How’re you and Christian doing?” Carrick asks.

“Fine. Okay. I don’t know. We have good days and bad days,” I reply and his brow furrows.

“Is something the matter?”

“He’s talking to Elena Lincoln again. I caught him a couple nights ago on the phone with her in his office.”

“What?” Carrick asks, sitting up a little straighter and I shrug. “What were they talking about?”

“Does it matter?” I ask him and he shakes his head.

“I suppose not. So, what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “We talked about it and he apologized. I think he’s having trouble in therapy but I don’t know over what. Every time he comes back, he’s a mess. I’m worried that he’s feeling overwhelmed and maybe regressing a little bit.”

“Then we just need to reassure him,” Grace says. “Let him know that he doesn’t have to turn to… her. He has all of us.”

“I know, but like I said, I have good days and bad days,” I repeat, and Grace grips my knee once more.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. And we all owe you an unbelievable debt of gratitude for what you’re doing for our son. We really do love you, Anastasia.”

“I love you too, Grace,” I tell her, smiling affectionately over at her. “Really, I can’t tell you how much having all of you has helped me deal with Ray being away. So, thank you for taking me in.”

“It’s our pleasure, Anastasia,” Carrick says. He winks at me just as Elliot and Kate come up to the table to get a drink. Christian hangs back in the yard with Mia, trying to teach her how to throw a spiral, while Elliot grumbles about when lunch is going to be ready.

“How come you’re not with your parents today?” I ask Kate.

She sighs in a melodramatic kind of way. “They’re in Los Angeles visiting Ethan. Apparently they see me all the time so, since they clearly love him more, they’re spending Father’s Day with him.”

“Yeah that’s it,” Elliot says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey do you want to go shopping tomorrow?” I ask her, as she sits down next to me, looking relieved to be out of the hot June sun.

“For what?”

“There’s a charity ball or something we have to go to on Tuesday. Christian said he invited all of you.”

“Oh yeah,” Kate says, recognition dawning on her face. “I was just going to wear my mom’s couture, but if you want to go shopping, I’m more than happy to go with you.”

I laugh and pick up my tea as the Grey’s staff bring our lunch out to the table. We’re having Italian Chicken, stuffed with mozzarella, sun dried tomatoes and artichokes, and cool summer salad with a strawberry vinaigrette dressing. Grace calls Christian and Mia over to the table and Kate rolls her eyes when Christian kicks her out of the seat next to me so that he can sit down. While the food is being dished out, I sneak another glance down at my phone. Still nothing.

“He’ll call,” Christian assures me, and I give him a small smile as I begin to eat.

“So I was thinking we should plan a family vacation for this summer,” Grace says happily. “We could all go to the house in Montana or maybe spend a week in Catalina?”

“We should go to Hawaii,” Elliot says through a mouthful of food. “Kate’s been talking about wanting to go to an active volcano.”

“I could do Hawaii,” Grace says. “What do you think, Ana? Maybe your parents could join us?”

“I was actually thinking about flying her parents out here on the Fourth of July like we talked about on Friday. I bought a yacht the other day and I’d like take everyone out, so I thought it would be the perfect occasion.”

“Fireworks on international waters?” Elliot chimes in excitedly. “Fuck yeah.”

“Oh my god, Grace,” Kate says, nearly fawning. “You have to see this yacht that he bought. It’s incredible. Like, you’re going to die.”

“Well, I think that sounds wonderful then,” Grace says. “So, just the seven of us for Hawaii then?”

“Six,” Mia says. “I can’t miss dance rehearsals, and there’s no way I can get that much time off work.”

“You can’t stay home alone, Mia. You’re only sixteen. You’ll have to speak with your boss to get some time off to spend with your family.”

“She’s not that understanding,” Mia says and Grace narrows her eyes at her.

“You’ll have to figure something out.”

“You could just pay for Juilliard and I wouldn’t have to,” Mia says bitterly and Carrick turns a sharp glare on her.

“Enough, Mia,” He says and she mashes her lips together in a tight line and stares down at her plate, pushing her salad around with her fork rather that eating it.

“So, when shall we go?” Grace asks, changing the subject. “Maybe the last week in August before Ana and Kate go back to school?”

“Make him plan it,” Elliot says, gesturing to Christian. “He’s the one with the busy schedule.”

Everyone turns to look at Christian and I, but he leaves it up to me. “Do you want to go to Hawaii?” He asks.

“Can we? A week off is a lot of time to be away from a two and a half month internship and you couldn’t even make it through one day off on your birthday.”

“I’ll make it work. Boeing says my jet will be ready by the June 28th so we’ll have it available to us. We could maybe just take a long weekend, instead of a whole week.”

“You’re the boss,” I shrug. He frowns at my dismissive reaction but turns to his mother and nods.

“Excellent,” She chirps happily. “Well, should we do presents?”

“I’ll get them,” Mia says, standing from the table and disappearing into the house. She returns a few seconds later, two wrapped packages and Christian’s gift bag in her hands.

“Thank you, Princess,” Carrick says, smiling at her as she takes the packages. “Should I open yours first?”

“Sure, but you know what it is,” She says, smiling coyly at him and he shakes his head, takes a deep breath and peels back the dark blue wrapping paper. It’s a tie… an, interesting tie. Light blue and covered in tiny pictures of different kinds of cartoon sushi. I give an awkward sideways glance to Mia, wondering what she was thinking and hoping her feelings won’t be crushed when he looks down at it with the grimace it deserves, but, to my surprise, Carrick laughs.

“This great, Mia. I think this is the best one yet. People are going to love it at the LSA convention next spring.”

Mia smiles broadly, clearly pleased with herself but I’m just confused until Christian leans over and explains.

“She gets him an ugly tie every year. It’s a tradition. He thinks they’re funny.”

“Oh,” I say, relieved. I thought I was going crazy for a minute.

Next Carrick picks up the package I assume must be from Elliot and when he rips away the paper, his reaction is what I would have expected for Mia’s gift.

“It’s a sonar for your fishing boat,” Elliot explains.

“I know what it is,” Carrick says. “But I already have one.”

“Yeah…” Elliot says, drawing out the word. “I may have broken that last week when Kate and I took the boat down the lake.”

Carrick narrows his eyes at him. “Then you can install this one.”

“That’s a deal,” Elliot says and Carrick sighs as he picks up Christian’s gift bag, reaches inside and pulls out a rectangular, green box.

“No…” Carrick says, shocked as he looks down at it.

“Open it,” Christian encourages him and Carrick’s eyes widen as he opens the hinged lid and finds a platinum colored watch inside with the word Rolex printed across the black face.

“Christian…” Carrick says, breathless as he stares down at the watch with disbelief. “I can’t… this is too much.”

“No,” Christian says, shaking his head. “It’s what I wanted you to have. I know you’ve always wanted one.”

Carrick’s face breaks into a wide smile as he pulls the thick links of the watch out of their velvet casing and slips it onto his wrist. There is a buzz of excitement around the table as everyone takes a closer look at the inordinately expensive watch and Carrick sits there, speechless.

“Way to make us look bad, asshole,” Elliot says, punching Christian in the arm, but Christian just smirks back at him.

“Wait there’s a card,” Carrick says, pulling a long envelope out of the bag and Christian tenses next to me.

“Uh, you… you should read that later,” He says and as Carrick raises an eyebrow at him, Grace waves a hand dismissively at Christian.

“Oh nonsense. Go on, Carrick. What does it say?” She asks.

Carrick peels back the flap on the envelope and pulls out a letter folded neatly inside. As he begins to read the words silently to himself, I feel Christian slump back into his chair, clearly embarrassed. Carrick’s brow furrows as he continues reading through the letter and then his entire face softens. I watch him lift his hand and place his fingers over his mouth, and as he finishes the letter, I think there are tears welling in his eyes.

“Come here, Christian,” Carrick says, pushing away from the table so that he can stand and Christian gets to his feet and walks to his father, who wraps him in a tight hug.

“I love you, Son,” I hear him say in a low voice. “I always have, okay? And I always will.”

“I love you too, Dad,” Christian says and when Carrick releases him, I hear Grace gasp through her teeth and she covers her mouth to hide the fact that she’s crying.

“Mom,” Christian says disapprovingly, but she waves him away.

“This is just… this is everything that I’ve wanted,” She says, her voice weak. She reaches over and squeezes my hand. I squeeze back but feel a little awkward because I know that the gesture is a silent thank you for bringing Christian back to his family, but after what happened on Friday, I don’t know that I’ve done anything…

Good days and bad days.

“Alright, alright,” Elliot says, as he also stands from the table. “Enough of this mush fest. It’s a beautiful day, let’s play some ball.”

“Yes,” Christian agrees, clearly eager to move the attention off of him and Carrick. “Want to play another round, Meems?”

“Sure,” Mia says, picking up the napkin off her lap and throwing it onto her only half empty plate.

“I think I’ll play too,” Carrick says. “It’s been awhile since I’ve played out back with my kids.”

“Wanna play?” Christian asks, looking down at me. “Looks like we’re going to need a third.”

“My dad still hasn’t called,” I say, shaking my head and yet again, checking my phone.

“He might not call all afternoon,” Carrick says, “I’d hate for you to sit here all day and then not hear from him until tonight. We can take a timeout if he calls, bring your phone with you.”

“Yeah,” Elliot agrees. “Besides, I know what this is really about, and don’t worry, Ana. You can be on my team so you don’t have to lose with your boyfriend.”

I glare at him. “I saw you throw earlier, Elliot. I’ll take my chances with Christian.”

“Game on then, Steele,” He says with a challenging smile. He tosses the football at me and I catch it, roll my eyes, and get out of my chair to follow them out onto the sloping lawn.

The next thirty minutes are grueling. Mia isn’t much help as a teammate since she’s not very big and she’s too concerned about injury to do any of the physical contact work. It’s not rare for me to look over in the middle of the play and see her texting. Christian does the best he can with Kate and Carrick blitzing him on every down and I have difficulty getting open down field as Elliot seems to have made it his sole mission in life to tackle me to the ground as many times as he can.

“Give up yet?” He asks, as he rolls off of me for probably the tenth time and I groan.

“Ease up, Elliot,” Christian warns him and Elliot hold up his hands, innocently agreeing, but then shooting me a sly, not in a million years kind of look. I shake my head and walk back to the huddle with Christian and Mia.

“You’ve got to get open, Mia,” Christian says. “Ana’s getting creamed out there.”

“Yeah, Ana doesn’t have a dance recital coming up. I can’t risk an ankle or a knee injury.” She argues.

“Maybe I should take wide receiver,” Christian suggests but I shake my head.

“I can get away,” I assure him. “Have Mia hike the ball to you in the shotgun so you can buy me a few seconds to get down field. I’ll run a left out, and get out of bounds at the first down.”

Christian’s face shifts as he looks down at me with interest. “You’re so sexy when you talk football to me,” He says and he leans down and kisses me.

“Huddles are only forty seconds long,” Elliot calls over to us, “There’s no kissing in football.”

“Prude,” Christian says, standing up and shooting a pointed look at his brother before we line up on the line to put my play into action. Christian calls for Mia to hike the ball and I take off, running straight at Elliot, who sets himself firmly in my path like he expects me to barrel into him, but then stop at the last second and make a quick cut left. Elliot stumbles as he tries to run after me, so I turn towards Christian, just in time for the ball to land in my hands.

I run as quickly as I can, but Elliot is faster than me so once I’m sure I’m past the first down line, I step out of bounds to avoid him. He doesn’t stop when I do though, so I scream and begin to run again.

“She’s out of bounds, Elliot!” Christian calls after him.

“I don’t see a line!” Elliot shouts back, laughing evilly and I scream and run across the yard, stopping only when I get to the pool and can’t go any further. Shit, dead end.

I turn and see him stalking up behind me, trying to be stealthy and my eyes widen. “Elliot…” I say in a warning tone but he grins wickedly at me.

“You’ve made a horrible mistake, Ana,” He says and he charges again, hooking me around the waist as he dives past me.”

“No! No! No! No!” I scream, but it’s too late. His arm wraps around me, I fall backwards and with a spectacular splash, I fall into the chilly water. When I surface, I can hear both Kate and Christian yelling my name, but I’m too panicked to reassure them I’m okay. Oh no…

“My phone!” I scream, reaching down and feeling my pockets. It isn’t there and for a brief, wonderful second, I think maybe it had fallen out when I was running across the lawn. That hope comes crashing and burning to the ground though when I look down and see the small, rectangular outline of my iPhone resting on the bottom of the pool below me.

Sucking in a deep breath, I dive for it, my fingers wrapping around the glass a few seconds later, and then I kick off the bottom and scramble out of the pool. I begin pressing the round home button frantically, praying the screen lights up, but it doesn’t. It’s black. Completely dead.

“No!” I howl, as I feel tears begin to choke their way up my throat. Christian runs up behind me and looks down at the black screen of the phone in my hands which I am still hopelessly trying to turn back on.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He screams down at Elliot, but Elliot just bobs in the pool, staring up at me with shock. His face is completely ashen.

“What do I do?” I ask through my tears as I look up at Christian.

“Can we forward her calls to my phone or your phone?” Kate asks.

“We’d have to do that from her phone,” Christian says, shaking his head. “Fuck.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his own, perfectly functional iPhone, and then puts it to his ear.

“Taylor,” He barks a second later. “I need a phone, now. I don’t care what it is, but it needs to have Anastasia’s SIM card in it. Yes. Which store? Good, I’ll call ahead and make sure you don’t have any problems. Hurry, Taylor.”

He hangs up and then wraps me in his arms as I sob and continue to try and coax my phone back to life, praying for some kind of miracle.

“Ana, I’m so sorry,” Elliot says as he climbs out of the pool. “I wasn’t thinking. I-I’m so sorry. So, so, so, so sorry.”

His apology rakes on me, just reaffirming that what’s happening is real and it tears me apart. The tears burst out of me more fiercely and Christian wraps me tighter in his arms, trying to calm me down.

“That’s not helping, Elliot,” He snaps.

“Let’s get her back up to the house,” Kate says. “She’s soaking. We need to get her a towel.”

It’s torture sitting on the Grey’s back porch wrapped in an oversized beach towel, even though the hot sun has me mostly dry after only a few minutes,and staring down at my lifeless phone, praying Ray hasn’t called while we wait for Taylor to get here. Christian’s family sits around the table, trying to make small talk but they’re only ever able to get a few words out at a time before whoever is speaking inevitably looks nervously over at me, like I’m a dangerous snake that could strike at any second. Elliot sits in the chair farthest away from me, staring at me the whole time, and looking so guilt ridden that, if I wasn’t so panicked right now, it would break my heart.

Christian’s phone buzzes on the table and he snatches it up so quickly, he almost dumps Kate’s iced tea onto her lap. “Taylor,” He answers sharply, listens for a second, and then hangs up without another word. “He’s here.”

I launch myself out of my chair and sprint after Christian into the house. We make it to the entrance hall just as Taylor steps through the front door. He immediately holds the new phone out to me and I take it, holding down the buttons simultaneously as the apple icon appears, taking its sweet time to boot up. My heart is racing as I watch the pre-programmed apps pop up on the home screen and then everything feels as though it comes crashing down around me when a notification pops up that I have a new voicemail.

“Oh no,” I breathe, I feel Christian’s hands wrap around my upper arms, trying to comfort me. He doesn’t say anything and I think that’s because he knows there’s nothing he can say right now.

“Ana…” Elliot says, in a hollow voice. “I am so, so, sorry. Can we do something? Can we call someone? How do we make this right?”

“We can’t,” I tell him, shaking my head. “He’s not on a base. This was a… a one shot deal kind of thing.”

“Oh, Ana,” Kate says, wrapping her arms around me as I start to cry again.

“We’ll put together a care package to send to him,” Grace says. “Maybe we can even make a video of you so he can see you. We can bake and get some of his favorite things that he’s been missing.”

I nod as Christian takes me out of Kate’s arms and leads me back into the living room. Grace heads back into the kitchen to get pie, hoping dessert will cheer me up, and I sit down on the couch and call my voicemail to listen to my Dad’s message. My gut clenches when I hear his voice, the disappointment in having to talk to my voicemail ringing clear in each word.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s Dad. I’m sorry I missed you. I uh, I hope you’re having just the best summer that you can. It’s your last one and I want you to enjoy yourself before you have to get a job and start going to work every day. I can’t believe I just said that… Your last summer vacation. I really just don’t know where all the time has gone. Sometimes, I still think of you as a little girl running around the backyard in your Princess Belle dress and catching frogs to scare your mom with. I’m so thankful for those memories. I know I didn’t help make you, but I can’t tell you what an honor it’s been watching you grow up and how much I’ve loved being your dad. I’ve been thinking about that a lot today. I love you with all of my heart baby girl and I am so proud of you. You are my life’s single greatest accomplishment and I want you to know that. I miss you, Annie. I think about you every day. Write me real soon. I love you. Bye.”

Tears bubble up inside of me again. Christian puts his arm around me and I lean over onto his chest, trying to get ahold of myself. I know this is making Elliot feel terrible and it was accident, I know that, so I need to get myself under control. If I want to cry later, I can do it at home.

“Can I get you something, Ana?” Elliot asks, when I’m finally able to stop my sobbing.

“No. Thanks, Elliot,” I say, shakily.

“Ana, I’m sorry,” He tells me again, but I shake my head.

“It was an accident. I know that. It’s okay, Elliot. I’ll write him a letter tonight explaining what happened and we can send a package. He’ll like that. I’ll even put extra cookies in for him to share with his buddies. I’m sure that will make him popular, at least for a day.”

“If I can do anything…” He tells me.

“I’ll let you know.”

Elliot gives me a sad smile and then Grace reaches over for my hand. I glance over at her, aiming for gratefulness, but I’m not sure if I succeed. It’s not that I don’t feel that way. In many ways, the Grey’s have been my family while Ray has been gone and the concern and the love, and the understanding I see in every one of their eyes right now, reaffirms that. Today is supposed to be about Carrick. I need put on a brave face.

“This is silly,” I say, sitting up and shifting Christian’s arm off of me. “We’re supposed to be celebrating. What should we do?”

I turn to look at Carrick, implying he should be the one to choose and he looks back uneasily at me for a moment before glancing to each of his family members in turn.

“Uh… we have the Wii hooked up down here. We could have a bowling tournament,” He suggests.

“Another opportunity for Elliot to lose?” Mia smirks. “Sounds good to me.”

Elliot glares at her. “Alright, start it up. Looks like I need to remind you fools who you’re dealing with here.”

Kate laughs and then follows Mia to the cabinet and helps her hook the cables up to the huge flat screen TV hanging on the wall while Christian, Elliot, and I move furniture out of the way.

The games turns viciously competitive far too quickly as Christian and Grace bowl two perfect first rounds with Kate and Mia both only a few pins behind them. Carrick and I are too busy laughing at Elliot who remains firmly in last place and gets more and more frustrated each time his turn comes around, to focus too much on catching up to Christian and Grace.

“This thing is broken,” Elliot hisses when he throws another gutter ball.

“Not as broken as your face,” Mia throws back at him.

“I’m going to break your face if you keep giving me lip, little girl,” Elliot threatens and Grace smacks him with one of the couch pillows.

“That’s enough,” She scolds both of them. “Whose turn is it?”

“Mine,” Kate says, jumping up. “Prepare to lose, Christian Grey.”

“Oh, yes, please, show me how it’s done, Kate,” He says sarcastically but she ignores his tone as she turns back for the TV. There is a low buzzing on the coffee table and I look down to Christian’s phone, the good mood I’d managed to build back up since the phone call disaster wiped out in an instant when I see Elena Lincoln’s name flash across the screen.

“Strike!” Kate yells excitedly, turning around for the expected congratulations of everyone in the room, but we’re all staring at Christian. He reaches over to pick up the phone, and I take in a deep breath to steady myself and hold back the torrent of emotion I can feel brewing inside of me, but he doesn’t answer it. He rejects the call, turns his phone completely off, and then tucks it back into his pocket. I exhale a little and feel the corners of my mouth curl into a small, thankful smile. He squeezes my hand and then groans a little as he gets off the couch.

“Alright, Kavanagh,” He says as he snatches the WiiMote out of Kate’s hand. “You put up a good fight, but I’m gonna go ahead and put this game away.”

Christian is quiet as we ride the elevator up to our apartment later that night, the fingers of his left hand entwined with those on my right, and each of us holding onto tupperware containers of food Grace insisted we take home with us. I’m not really sure the reasoning behind his sudden reticence, it’s weird after the great day we’ve had with his family, and so it has me worried.

“That was fun,” I say, trying to encourage him to speak. He nods but his eyes don’t move away from the numbers ticking steadily higher over the elevator doors. “Are you thinking about work?” I try again.

“No,” He says at last, but he doesn’t elaborate further. I frown, but decide to give him a little more time before I try again. Before we reach the 22nd floor though, he squeezes my fingers and turns to look down at me.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to talk to your dad today,” He says regretfully. “I wish there was something I could do.”

“I know,” I reply. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. These kind of things happen. I’ll do what your mom suggested and make him a video. He’ll like that.”

He nods again as the elevator doors slide open and we step into the entryway. To my surprise, Taylor is standing in the foyer, waiting for us.

“Good evening, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele,” He says, formally. “Did you enjoy your evening?”

“Yes,” Christian replies, but his voice is short now. “But I’d like to see you in my office, Taylor.”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor responds and he turns around and walks purposefully towards Christian’s office.

“Christian…” I say hesitantly. “Don’t yell at him. It’s not his fault I missed the call. He did everything he could.”

“Put these in the fridge for me,” He replies, handing me the tupperware in his hand and completely ignoring my request. “This shouldn’t take long. I’ll be in to get in bed with you in a minute.”

He leans down and presses his lips chastely against my cheek and then releases my hand and follows after Taylor. I watch him go, feeling a little guilty as I imagine the lecture it seems Taylor is in for, but do as he asks and take the leftovers from the Grey’s to put away in the fridge. It is getting fairly late and I know my day off on Friday has left me with a ton of work to do tomorrow, so I get myself a glass of water and walk back towards the bedroom, pausing for a second to glance at the light streaming into the back hallway from under the door of Christian’s office, and then head off to bed.

Next Chapter

The traffic on Alaskan Way is backed up because the Seahawks are starting official off-season training today which has been opened to the public, so everyone is trying to get south to Renton. Christian tries to avoid the gridlock by taking Western to Virginia St, but the second we merge with Elliot Ave, we come to a standstill.

“Jesus Chris,” Christian grumbles with frustration as he tries to weave around the line of cars stopped in front of us, but just ends up stuck in the wrong lane. “Fucking, Seahawks…”

“Hey!” Elliot and I both shout at the same time.

“You better watch your mouth Christian, just because you’re technically my boss now and you just bought a $35 million yacht that I plan on taking full advantage of, does not mean that I won’t still kick your ass.”

“You haven’t been able to kick my ass since I was eleven…And not even really then,” Christian says pointedly, glancing up at his brother in the rearview mirror. Elliot grimaces and then turns to me.

“That’s it, Ana. You’re cutting him off. No more sex until he learns to value and cherish the things that are more important in life. Namely, the Seattle Seahawks.”

Christian laughs and then looks down at me like he’s waiting for me to brush Elliot’s comment off as ridiculous, but I give him a very purposeful look and fold my arms across my chest.

“Oh, come on, Ana,” He says, but my gaze doesn’t falter.

“Take it back,” I say firmly and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. The Seahawks are the only thing that gives life any meeting and I don’t know how I could be so insensitive as to diminish their importance in any way,” He says, a mocking tone in his voice.

“And…” I say drawing out the word into two syllables, “To make it up to me, I can use your corporate box seats this season.”

“And you can use my box seats this season,” He repeats.

“And Elliot,” Elliot coughs from the back seat.

“And Elliot,” I add, nodding firmly.

“And Elliot,” Christian repeats, rolling his eyes again.

“And the next time you attend a gala in which Matt Hasselbeck is also attending, you will take me with you.”

“I will take you with me,” He assures me.

“And I’m pretty,” I add with a smile.

“Oh, now you’ve gone too far,” He laughs, and as I devolve into a giggling fit, he reaches over for my hands, pulls my fingers up to his lips and then lowers our still conjoined hands onto the center console, rubbing his thumb affectionately over the backs of my fingers.

It takes forever, but we’re finally able to turn onto Virginia St, and as Christian hits the gas and the Maybach shoots up the steep hill towards Escala, the music coming out of the car’s sound system cuts out and the screen in the dash announces a call from Ros.

“Ros?” Christian answers, pushing a button on the steering wheel near his thumb.

“Hey, I know it’s your birthday and… happy birthday, but I need you. I’ve had fourteen calls on the state project this morning that I don’t know enough about it to answer them, and apparently there’s some kind of infrastructure problem in Whitman country that’s causing problems for our fiber optics team. Oh, and Carl Beckett from Lincoln Timber has been calling for you all morning trying to schedule a meeting via lifesize for no later than three this afternoon. He says it’s important but apparently my credentials as COO are not good enough to find out why…”

“So you need me to come in,” Christian infers.

“Oh, I knew you’d understand.”

I frown as Christian makes the loop to drop us off at the entrance to the lobby of Escala rather than pulling into the parking garage.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Christian assures Ros, and then he pushes the button to cut off the call.

The Maybach comes to a stop against the curb in front of the main doors to Escala and I look over at him, unable to hide the disappointment I feel from showing on my face.

“You’re not going to come up and change?” I ask, glancing down at his casual, yet still unbelievably sexy, jeans and t-shirt combo.

“No,” He says. “If Zuckerberg can run his company in a hoodie, I think I could wear a t-shirt just this once.” I laugh, but it’s short lived. I really don’t want him to leave.

“What time do you think you’ll be back?” I ask him.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to see exactly what’s going on when I get into the office. I’ll call you and let you know.”

“Okay,” I say. He leans over and kisses me, and then I step out of the car, waiting for Kate and Elliot to join me on the sidewalk, and then wave goodbye to Christian as he pulls away from the curb.

Kate and Elliot decide they aren’t going to stick around and watch me bake all afternoon, but as we head to the elevators, planning to go opposite directions, I hear my name being called by the woman at the front desk. She smiles and waves at me, so I say good-bye to Kate and Elliot and then make my way over to her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Steele,” She says in an overly pleasant, professional tone. “There was a delivery for Mr. Grey about an hour ago but there was no one in your penthouse to receive it. Would you like to take it with you now?”

“Sure,” I shrug and she disappears into the office behind her for a second before returning with a shiny, silver ice bucket in her hands. There is a dark green bottle with a gold label sticking out of the top of it, and a black ribbon tied around the lip of the pail that also secures a parchment colored envelope with Christian’s name on it.

“Thank you,” I tell her as I take the bucket. Some of the ice has melted so it’s a little awkward to carry and she offers to have someone help me, but I simply thank her and tell her I can manage.

The apartment is eerily empty when I finally get back upstairs. Christian gave Taylor and Prescott the day off as we were supposed to be mostly just spending time here together, and with Gail still sick and isolated to her wing of the apartment, I find myself truly alone here for the first time. My footsteps seem to echo through the great room as I walk out of the foyer, and it’s kind of creepy… Immediately, I start having horrible Scream flashbacks and my mind begins running through all the places the killer could be hiding in the house.

I need a distraction and Christian’s iPod is in the docking station on the mantle, so I decide to just put it on shuffle and fill the apartment with music while I bake. But there’s only so much of the Lumineers and Death Cab for Cutie that I can handle before I yank his iPod off the speaker and replace it with mine, finishing Christian’s cake while dancing around the kitchen to Jason Derulo. When the cake comes out of the oven, I slip it out of the baking pans and onto the ventilated racks I find in the cabinet to help it cool faster, but since I’ve already cleaned the dishes I’ve used and whipped up a batch of buttercream icing, I’m stuck playing the waiting game.

My eyes fall on the bucket of champagne sitting on the counter, and as I stare at it, wondering who it’s from, curiosity gets the better of me and I pull the card out from under the ribbon and ease open the envelope. There is a plain white card inside with a handwritten messages scribbled across it in an elegant looking script.

Happy Birthday, Christian. I thought we could celebrate your LT acquisition with some Dom Perignon. Let me know when you’re available.

Love always, Elena

I scoff as I read the note and then tear it up in my hands. I tell you when he’s available, Elena Lincoln.

After tossing her card in the trash, I take the bottle of champagne out of the ice bucket, find a bottle opener in the utensil drawer and then pour it down the drain. I feel a grim sense of satisfaction as I turn on the faucet, clearing the sink of the remaining fizzing bubbles and then pick up the ice bucket, and the bag out of the trash and dispose of the evidence.

Christian texts me as I’m frosting his cake to tell me he’ll be home around seven thirty, but at seven fifteen, just as I’m pulling the lemon cod out of the oven, I hear the elevator ping and then the echoing footsteps of Christian walking into the great room.

“Ana?” He calls, and I stick my head around the corner.

“You’re early!” I exclaim, and he laughs at the shock on my face.

“Is that a problem?”

“No,” I say quickly, “I mean, I-I’m just not done yet. The asparagus is still in the oven and the fish has to rest for a few minutes before it’s ready.”

“So?”

“So you’re ruining my birthday surprise!” I pout, he smiles and then walks over to me so that he’s standing behind me, and then wraps his arms around my waist.

“I’d hardly call it ruined,” He says, in a low, sexy voice. His lips press into my jaw just below my ear and as he runs the tip of his nose up the line between my face and my ear, a shiver trembles down my spine. “I love this, baby. Seeing you, in my kitchen. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

I turn around and kiss him, blushing at the look of utter adoration coloring his eyes, and then smile. “Ten minutes,” I promise him.

“I’ll pick a wine,” He tells me. “What are you making?”

“Cod,” I reply.

“A Chardonnay then, I think. I have a special reserve label from Burgundy, France that I’ve been saving for a special occasion. I think this is perfect.”

Christian lays the plates out on the table and fills two wine glasses, as I bring the dishes out to serve. We sit close to one another as we begin to eat, and when he takes the first bite, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction at the look of approval on his face. He likes it.

“This is delicious,” He tells me.

“I’m glad you think so,” I say with a smile. “Brains, beauty, and a good cook. Whatever did you do to deserve me, Mr. Grey?”

“I ask myself that every single day,” He says. He leans over to kiss me and I meet him willingly, feeling as though I wish I could stop time and remain in this moment with him forever. We talk a little about work as he tells me about the chaos he walked into in his office, and then a little more about the yacht he purchased this afternoon. He already has grand plans for a trip around the world to celebrate my graduation from Harvard and I entertain the fantasy for him, but know the idea is ridiculous in practice. He couldn’t leave the office for an afternoon, there’s no way he could be gone long enough to sail around the world. Besides, Ray will be back next summer, hopefully in time to watch me graduate, and I want to spend as much time with him as I can.

“Oh,” He says, a few minutes later. “The Mayor’s Ball is on Tuesday. GEH is awarding a scholarship to a young man from the inner city so we have to attend. I’d like for it to be our first official outing, together.”

“A ball? So I’ll need a gown?”

“Well, yes. I could find something for you, have it shipped here, or maybe you could go shopping with Kate? I’m going to invite my whole family to attend so I’m sure she’ll need something as well. Maybe even Mia could go with you, I know she wanted to have lunch with you.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll ask them on Sunday,” I tell him.

He gives me a small, warm smile and then slowly gets out of his chair and picks up his iPod. I watch with interest as he scrolls through the songs until he finds the one he’s looking for and puts it onto the dock. The room is suddenly filled with the sweet notes from a piano and Christian slowly saunters over to me, holding out his hand for mine, Adele begins to sing about all the things she would do to Make You Feel My Love.

Christian spins me once and then pulls me into him, his body gracefully guiding me over the floor as we turn and sway to the beautiful music. I rest my cheek against his shoulder, just enjoying the feel of him against me as he leads me around the great room.

“I’ve known it from the moment that we met,” He sings quietly along with the music, “No doubt in my mind where you belong.”

I shift so that I can look up at him, his eyes shining down at me with wonder, and we stop moving. I lean up and kiss him, the tip of my tongue brushing gently against his. His arms wrap tighter around me and he deepens our kiss, our lips moving together in a slow, sensual dance that lights my body with desire. Desire for his touch, his body, his love. As I succumb to the building passion behind his kiss, I know that I want nothing more than to be as close to him as is physically possible.

“Bed?” He asks in a low sensual voice that heightens the carnal heat I feel beginning to burn in every one of my nerve endings.

“Yes,” I whisper against his lips. Without warning, I’m scooped up into Christian’s arms and he kisses me once more as he carries me off into the bedroom. When we get there though, he stops, his lips pulling away from mine as he looks down at the bed with confusion and it takes me a moment to remember why.

My birthday surprise.

His eyes glance over each of the items lying seemingly innocent on the bed. “What’s this?” He asks.

“Well…” I begin, almost guilty as I wonder if springing this on him wasn’t the greatest plan. “It’s all just been sitting here, we haven’t used any of it. I thought, maybe tonight, for your birthday, we could… I don’t know. Try something new.”

He looks down at me suspiciously for a moment, and then down at the bed again. “You want to play?”

“Yes,” I tell him and he takes a deep breath, considering it.

“Not here,” He says at last. “This is where I make love to you, Anastasia. I don’t want to do this here.”

“Oh,” I say, slightly disappointed. I think this means that he doesn’t want to do this, but to my surprise, he begins gathering the items I’ve laid out into his arms, gesturing for me to do the same.

“We’ll go upstairs,” He says, “There should be plenty of space in the second bedroom.”

An excited smile creeps across my lips as I help him take the different items and then follow him out of the bedroom and up the stairs. He leads me down the hallway to the larger of the two guest rooms, but he stops before he opens the door.

“You really want to do this?” He asks.

“Yes,” I tell him.

“Okay,” He agrees with a nod. “Then once you step through this door, the scene begins. You’re mine to do with as I please, whatever I please, and you will do as you’re told.”

“Okay,” I nod, my excitement mounting and the anticipation builds. He leans over and kisses me.

“I love you,” He says, and it feels like there is something behind his words but I don’t have the time to analyze it as he pushes open the door and steps aside to allow me to enter first. I take a deep breath and drop the things I’m holding in my arms haphazardly on the bed.

“Stand by the door,” He commands, and I move. “Eyes on the ground.” I look down. “Good girl. You will not look up at me unless I tell you to, do you understand?” I nod. “No, Anastasia, you have to speak when I ask you a question. I need to know that you understand what I’m telling you.”

“Yes,” I say quietly.

“Yes, what?”

“Er…”

“Sir,” He tells me, firmly. “We’ll start with Sir.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Wait here,” He says. I risk a glance up as he turns around for the bed, picking up each of the items we’ve left there in turn and carrying them, one at a time, over to the glass top dresser across from the bed and laying them out piece by piece. He stands in front of the dresser, examining them carefully, considering them individually, before he eventually turns to look back at me and I’m forced to turn my eyes back to the floor.

“First thing’s first,” He says, walking slowly over to me. “Let’s get you out of these clothes. Lift your arms.”

I do as he asks and his fingers find the bottom hem of my flowy, black tank, and he eases it up over my stomach, his fingers brushing up my waist, the sides of my bra, my shoulders, and my arms as he pulls it over my head.

“Arms down,” He commands, and again I comply. He stalks around me like a predator eyeing its helpless prey standing before him, ready to be devoured. When he’s behind me, he stops and hooks his fingers under the clasp on my bra. I feel my breasts shift as my bra falls open, and then his fingers slide over my shoulders, pushing the straps down each of my arms, and sending a shiver up my spine. He takes the clothing he’s removed from me and places them neatly on the bedside table.

When he turns around again, he walks directly up to me, so that he’s only standing a few inches away, and I feel his gaze burning into me as I watch his fingers begin to unfasten the buttons on my shorts. The moment the button is released, he pulls down the zipper and then lets them fall unceremoniously to the floor. My panties, however, he takes great care in removing. Before his fingers slide beneath the lace band, he runs his hands tenderly over my hips, feeling my skin, and then gently easing my panties down over my behind. He doesn’t let them fall. He holds on to them, slowly lowering his body down mine as he glides my panties down my legs. I feel his breath between my breasts and then over my stomach, until he’s kneeling in front of me and I’m able to step out of my shorts and my panties. Once I’m divested of the remainder of my clothing, he leans forward and runs his nose against my vagina, inhaling, and then dragging his tongue over my clitoris as he tilts his face up towards mine. I gasp, whimpering at the oh so sweet contact, and his eyes harden.

“Quiet,” He tells me. “You will not make a sound unless I instruct you to.”

I swallow, unsure if I’m supposed to answer the command, but since there doesn’t seem to be implicit instruction in his words, I remain silent. It seems to be the right choice, because he stands without giving me further reprimand.

“Now, usually, Anastasia…” He begins as he starts to circle me once more, his eyes raking hungrily over my naked body. “These types of relationships begin with negotiations. What you’re willing to try, what you’re not willing to try. These are called soft limits, and hard limits. A soft limit can be pushed, a hard limit cannot. We have had no such discussion, but you and your body are not new to me.” He stops behind me again, his body pressed against my naked back and his lips brushing ever so slightly against my ear. “I know how to pleasure you. I know how to excite you. I know how to make you come.”

I can’t hold back the tremble of pleasure his words elicit inside of me, but I keep my eyes dutifully turned down to the floor, and my mouth silent. He lets out a breathy chuckle and then kisses the junction of my earlobe and my jaw. A shaky breath breaks through my lips as he slowly kisses and licks his way down the gentle curve of my neck to my shoulder.

“I have a good idea what your soft limits are,” He continues. “And I want to push them. I want to try some new things but since you haven’t given me any hard limits, you should at least have safe words. Do you know what safe words are, Anastasia?”

“To make you stop… Sir,” I add.

“In their basic form. There are two I want you to use. You will say yellow when you want me to ease back or let me know that you are close to your limit. You will say red if you don’t like something and you want me to stop. Repeat that.”

“Yellow when I’m close to my limit. Red when I want you to stop,” I repeat, and there is a nervousness that begins to meld with my excitement. What does he have planned?

“I don’t want you to be ashamed of those words,” He says, his voice imploring now, rather than hard and authoritative. “It does me no good if you aren’t honest with me about how you’re feeling.”

“Okay,” I assure him.

“Good,” He says, his voice firm again. “On your knees.”

He holds out his hand for mine and I take it as I kneel onto the floor, back straight, eyes still cast down to the ground. He walks around so that he’s standing in front of me and then reaches up and pulls his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside onto the nightstand with my clothes, and then he undoes his fly.

Oh god, he’s so hard…

“Open your mouth,” He commands me and I do as I’m bid. He flexes his hips forward and I feel the tip of his erection on my lips. Leaning forward a little, I envelop him in my mouth, sucking the head of his erection until, he reaches into my hair, holding me in place, and he thrusts forward. I let out a small, surprised noise as my mouth is suddenly filled with him, and he freezes. He tests me, pulling out and inching back in, slowly, and when I give him an encouraging moan and suck him in time with his thrusts, he pushes deeper into my mouth again.

“That’s it, baby,” He whispers, letting out a low, throaty groan. He continues his rhythm, moving in and out of my mouth, his breath hissing between his teeth. It’s so sexy listening to him enjoying this. I love the feeling of power it gives me knowing that I can do this to him with only my mouth. Maybe that’s where his dom desires come from, a place of deep satisfaction in knowing the pleasure you’re giving another person with only your body. Watching them react to you, come undone for you. I moan at the thought and tighten my lips around him.

“That’s enough,” He says, pulling away from me too quickly and I pout a little to have the sense of euphoric power ripped away from me.

“Get on your feet,” He tells me and I do so as quickly as possible. He takes my hand and leads me the the center of the room and then retrieves an armchair resting against the wall and brings it over to me. “Sit.”

I do.

“Bring your feet up and rest them on the edge of the seat.”

I do.

He turns around and picks up a set of restraints with four cuffs on them, two of them a difference size from the other two.

“I’m going to restrain you,” He tells me and I nod. With careful fingers, he wraps the two larger cuffs around my thighs, then pulls the tether around the arm rest, before looping it back around and securing the smaller set of cuffs around my ankles. I’m spread open, my legs each secured to the armrest they’ve been tethered to, and Christian looks down at me hungrily, his tongue running tantalizingly across his top lip before he turns back to the dresser for a set of handcuffs.

“Normally, I’d like to tie your hands but my patience is wearing thin so we’ll have to make do with these,” He tells me. “Put your hands behind the back of the chair.”

I reach around the chair, tangling my fingers together while Christian secures the leather cuffs around first my right, then my left wrist. When he’s finished, I can’t move and the excited heat begins to build inside of me. Now what?

He walks back around to the front of the chair and then falls to his knees, staring down at me open and waiting for him with a look close to awe reflected in his eyes.

“Oh, Ana,” He whispers, “You look so beautiful like this.” I squirm slightly, testing the small amount of movement afforded to me by my restraints as I watch him lift his middle and index finger to his mouth. He sucks them for a moment, his eyes blazing into mine, and then removes them from his mouth and lowers them down, between my legs.

“I’m going to make you come in every way I know how,” He says, his voice a low, sensual promise. “And then I’m going to fuck your ass.”

I gasp as he thrusts his fingers inside of me, spreading me and pushing them in and out, before turning them over and teasing that place on the front wall of my vagina that sends tingling shivers down my legs and into my toes.

“Oh yes,” I breathe, throwing my head back.

“That’s right baby, feel this,” He encourages me, pushing his fingers into me harder. My back bows away from the back of the chair as far as it can as I succumb to his expert fingers. The heat begins to grow inside of me and his fingers become slick with my arousal and I begin to feel a pulsating deep inside of me with each stroke of his hand in and out of me. The stretching feeling is exquisite, though it makes me yearn to have another part of him inside of me, and as that thought crosses my mind, the heat begins billowing out of control and I know that it won’t be much longer.

“That’s it, baby,” Christian says as my gasp laden breathing becomes a high keening. He moves his thumb over my clitoris, rubbing slow but firm circles around and around as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of me. “Give it to me, Anastasia. I want you to come for me. I want you to show me how much you love this.”

My lip begins to tremble and my hips rock back and forth and as he increases the pace of his fingers, the dam breaks and I let go, clenching tightly around him and crying out my release. He continues to flex his fingers inside of me, seeing me all the way through my orgasm, and the second the pulsing pleasure stops, his fingers are gone and his mouth is on me.

“Holy shit,” I gasp, the new sensation of his tongue almost too intense after my orgasm. I shift my hips, trying to squirm away from him but my restraints keep me in place. I try and take a deep breath to calm myself, and as I force myself to let go of the anxiety, I can revel in the pleasure of his mouth and feel myself melt back into the chair.

“There you go, Ana,” Christian encourages me, sucking on my clitoris with his lips before lavishing me with his tongue again. I groan, a deep visceral sound as he thrusts his tongue inside of me and the overwhelming sensation of an impending orgasm begins building in me once again. Fuck, again? I don’t know if I can take it this soon…

“Wait, wait, wait…” I whimper, but he just lets out a low, sexy sound as he continues to fuck me with his tongue. The heat intensifies, becoming more and more urgent with the passing seconds. He creates suction over me, moving his lips up to my clitoris, and it’s too much. I feel the quickening morph into something stronger and my entire body begins to shudder as a second, more intense orgasm overpowers me. Christian groans into me, his mouth continuing his carnal assault.

“Oh fuck!” I cry out, grinding against him until I’m no longer overcome by wave after wave of thrumming pleasure. When my orgasm finally dissipates and I’m left shaking and panting like I’ve just finished a marathon, Christian pulls away and moves up the chair to kiss me. His tongue is eager in my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his tongue and while I moan into him, I worry what he has planned for me next… I feel completely wrung out.

He releases me from the cuffs around my thighs and ankles and then takes the cuffs off my wrists. “Stand,” He tells me and with a great deal of effort, I do. “Put your hands on either side of the arm chair and hold yourself there.”

I lean over, my fingers gripping onto the armrests and waiting as he moves back to the dresser. When he comes back to me, he touches my vagina again, collecting my slick arousal around his fingers and then dragging it up over my perineum to the entrance of my ass. Instinctively, I clench away from the sensation.

“Easy, Ana,” He says gently. “I’m going to put a plug in you to prepare you for me. I have lube here, and I’m going to put it on you now.” I’m awakened a little by the sensation of cold liquid being poured onto me and then his fingers massaging it over my entrance.

“Relax, Anastasia,” He tells me, “This isn’t going to hurt.” His fingers disappear and then I feel a new object pressed against me. He rubs it over me a few times and then very slowly, begins to ease it inside of me. It isn’t much different from his fingers, which I’ve done before, maybe a little bigger, but I find that when I relax my body, he’s right, it doesn’t hurt.

“Breathe,” He says. He pushes the plug further and I realize that it’s getting wider, stretching me a little further. I gasp and he freezes.

“Ana?” He checks. “Is it too much?”

I take a deep breath, trying to relax my body and assess how I feel. When I’m not tightening my body, resisting against him, the stretching from the plug is actually kind of good. It feels strange and a little taboo and I like that. It’s new and pushing the boundaries, and that is exactly what I wanted. I don’t want him to stop so I’m not going to safeword.

“It’s good,” I tell him, and he twists the plug to test my resolve before slowly inching it forward again. When it’s fully inside of me, Christian’s hand moves away, down to my clitoris, where once again he begins rubbing slow, tantalizing circles.

“How does that feel?” He asks and I moan.

“Good,” I tell him. His hand moves away and he swats me on the behind, jutting the plug forward. I whimper at the sensation, which is foreign and yet wholly erotic.

“Good, what?” He asks.

“Good, Sir,” I correct myself.

“Remember that, Anastasia. I don’t want to have to punish you,” He tells me and he grabs onto my ass, making the plug shift in another, new, tantalizing way and I moan. He walks back over to the dresser for one last thing, something in a package and while I try to think of what we’d brought down here, but then I hear a low buzzing sound and his moan and I have an idea what it is.

He moves behind me, the tip of his erection brushing against me and I feel the low vibrations from the cock ring.

“I’m going to fuck you like this, Anastasia. It’s going to be hard and fast, and you’re going to have to hold yourself on the chair to keep yourself from falling. Can you do that.”

“I think so,” I tell him, and he swats my behind again, harder this time. “I mean, I think so, Sir,” I tell him.

“Good girl,” He tells me, “Don’t forget again or I will punish you.”

“Yes, Sir,” I tell him. I feel his erection brush against me again, still vibrating, as he lubricates himself and then he plunges inside of me.

“Oh fuck! Christian!” I cry out as I’m overwhelmed by the intensity of the fullness from having him and the plug inside of me.

“What did you just call me?” He asks, stopping his thrusts. I want to say something, at least correct myself but the feeling of him vibrating inside of me, filling me, stretching me… I can’t concentrate enough to say the words I need to. I wait for him to smack my behind again, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he simply thrusts forward again and I groan at the sensation. Maybe I’m forgiven, maybe I’m not, but in this moment, I don’t care. I’m lost in a euphoric cloud of ecstasy that I hope I never find my way out of.

His hand reaches forward into my hair again, wrapping it around his his wrist and holding me in place by the nape of my neck as slams into me. I’m unprepared for his assault and as I’m jolted forward, I lose my grip on the chair for a second and nearly send us tumbling over the back of it.

“Hang on, Anastasia,” Christian growls.

“Okay,” I say, and his fingers tug lightly at my hair. “I mean, yes, Sir.”

He begins again, moving in and out of me and each time his hips thrust against my behind, the plug jolts forward and sends waves of pleasure radiating through me. I’m gripping onto the arms of the chair so hard my knuckles turn white, but I’m so lost in his rhythm, I hardly notice. I don’t notice any parts of my body other than the ones that are electrified with pleasure. I begin to build, the tight ball of release building, growing stronger and tighter with each thrust of Christian inside of me. I can vaguely hear his rough breathing and his moans behind me, but my body reacts to the sound instinctively, edging me on and stoking the heat that pushes me towards my orgasm.

Christian shifts slightly so that he’s deeper, hitting me in all the right places, and the sensation in combination with the vibration and the plug still jerking and twisting inside of me, tips me over the edge and I’m sent spiraling down into my release, crying out as my body is seized by a mind numbing, life affirming orgasm.

Three again? Fuck, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep up with this lifestyle. And Christian hasn’t even finished yet…

He stills behind me, releasing my hair, removing the plug, and then pulling out of me. “Stand up,” He commands, and though all of my limbs feel like jello, somehow, I manage to obey.

“I told you…” He begins in a dark, detached voice, “That if you forgot etiquette again, I was going to punish you.”

Oh shit…

“I want you to trust me absolutely and that means that I have to follow through with my promises, Anastasia. You disobeyed the rules and there are consequences for that. Go and lay on the bed.”

I hesitate for a moment, looking into the hard, cold steel in his eyes. He straightens, challenging me with his gaze and so I nod and move to the bed. He turns back for the dresser and picks up the flogger I held in my hands the night before, twisting it, testing it. Once the long leather strands stop spinning, he shifts the handle so that he can grip it better and then he moves towards me.

“I want you to stand with your legs against the bed, and lean over the mattress,” He instructs me, and I do as I’m told, feeling a cold shiver of trepidation wash over me. I wish I would have tested this. I have no idea what to expect… Is this going to hurt? Of course it is, that’s why it’s called a punishment.

“Why am I doing this, Anastasia?” He asks when I’m bent over and he’s standing behind me.

“Because… ” I swallow hard, suddenly afraid. I don’t like the anticipation. It’s like being a little kid again, waiting in my room for Ray to come and yell at me and start taking privileges away from me one by one. “Because I forgot to call you Sir.” My voice is shaking.

“And why is that important, Anastasia?” He asks.

“Uh, because… because you told me to?”

“Because in this room, you are mine,” He tells me. “Using proper terminology reminds you of that. It’s important, Anastasia, and since you can’t seem to remember on your own, perhaps five lashes will help you.”

Five? I swallow again.

Out of my peripheral vision, I see him lift the flogger into the air and I prepare myself for the blow to follow but it doesn’t come.

“What are your safe words, Anastasia?” Christian asks, and I frown. Why is he drawing this out so much?

“Red and Yellow,” I repeat.

“And you’ll use them if you need to?” He asks. “You don’t have to be brave if it’s too much. That doesn’t help anyone.”

“Okay,” I tell him.

“Okay,” He says, more firmly this time. I clench my jaw as I wait for the sharp lick of the straps to rain down over my skin, but again, nothing. I sit there for probably five… ten seconds, and still, he doesn’t hit me.

I look back at him. His jaw is tight, and he’s staring down at me with a pained kind of look behind his eyes, like he’s struggling with something and I don’t understand what. I thought this was what he wanted…

Slowly, he lowers the flogger, looking down at it with confusion, maybe? “I don’t…” He says, but when his words cut off he changes direction. “I think we’re done here.” He says.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I mean, the scene is over. We should go back downstairs. Come, I’ll draw you a bath,” He reaches down for my hand and pulls me up off the bed, collecting both of our clothes and handing me his t-shirt as we head for the door. His fingers entwine with mine as we walk down the stairs, but as he leads me into our bathroom, I can’t shake my confusion over what just happened. Why did he stop? We weren’t finished, he wasn’t finished…

While he fills the tub with hot water, lavender oil, and vanilla bubble bath, I sit there and try to comprehend what just happened. It doesn’t make any sense, he said this is what he’s always wanted. He wanted to be a Dominant, I was playing a Submissive… is it me?

“Come here,” He says, holding his hands out for me so that he can help me off of the counter and into the tub. The warm water feels amazing as I sink down into the luxurious bubbles, but Christian doesn’t climb in after me.

“You’re not getting in?” I ask him.

“No. You enjoy. I’m going to check my email. I have to make sure everything on Lincoln Timber was taken care of this afternoon.”

“But… you didn’t finish,” I say guiltily. In what world is it okay for me to have three orgasms and for him to be left hanging? Especially on his birthday…

“I’m fine,” He says. “Thank you for tonight.”

He leans over and kisses me, but the uncertainty in his lips doesn’t assuage any of the confusion I feel over what just happened. I try to smile at him as he stands from the edge of the tub but I’m not sure it’s convincing. He leaves the bathroom and I sink back into the tub, trying to relax, push aside my worries, and chalk all of this up to us just needing to find what works in this new sexual frontier together… but it’s pointless. It bothers me on a deep level that he just wanted to stop like that. I need to know what’s wrong…

I get out of the tub, wrapping a towel around myself, and then set through the apartment towards his office. I’m going to try and convince him to come get into the bath with me and talk about what just happened, but when I’m outside his office door, I can hear that he’s on the phone so I have to stop and wait.

“I just couldn’t do it,” He says, in a bewildered kind of voice. “I was standing there, ready, looking down at her, and I-I couldn’t do it. She knew it was coming, she didn’t try and stop me, she knew her safe words, but I… That never happened to you.”

What the fuck? He’s not… no, he wouldn’t. Not about me. Not about us…

“No, Elena. It’s not her,” He says firmly. “She was the one who… I was just… I mean, tonight was… and she…”

I feel my gut clench and my body go cold as I realize what’s happening. Christian is having some kind of existential crisis about what just happened upstairs, but instead of talking to me about it… he’s talking to her. He’s talking to her about our sex life, asking her for advice. He ran to her. I feel my body shaking and I don’t know if it’s anger, or pain, or disgust that’s overpowering me in this moment because my body seems to have gone into some kind of self preservation mode and isn’t allowing me to actually feel the emotion. Is it pain then? Is this the betrayal that’s been in the back of my mind since I came back here?

I take a deep breath and push open the door, trying to find some of the anger I know is inside of me to cling onto and keep me from breaking down. Christian’s head shoots up and I see the color drain out of his face as he sees me standing there, still wet and wrapped in a towel in his doorway.

“I’ve got to go,” He says in the phone and he quickly hangs it up.

“What the fuck, Christian?” I spit at him. “You think you can just put me away, find something to distract me so that you can call your ex-domme for advice about our sex life. You lied to me. You told me that you were coming in here to check your email and instead I find you, once again, talking to her.”

“Ana…” He hesitates, but I cut him off.

“No!” I yell at him. “You know how I feel about her, how I feel about you talking to her at all. Why would you call her and talk to her about me? About us? How could you possibly think that was okay?”

“I just needed to… I mean, I… She’s in the lifestyle, Anastasia,” He says defensively, “She understands, she has experience with this. Back there, with you, I froze. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect to feel… I just, I needed to know…” His sentence dies off as he struggles to find the words to express what he wants to say, but that only makes me angrier. Why is it that he can talk to her, and not to me?

“Christian, I’m your girlfriend. I’m the person that was in that room with you. If you’re having a problem with something, you have to talk to me. You can’t shut me out like this, you can’t keep running away from me and worse, running off to her. You told me back there that you wanted me to trust you absolutely. How am I supposed to trust you if you won’t talk to me? How am I supposed to be okay with you tying me up and doing things to me sexually if I know that you’re getting your advice from Elena? I’m not okay with it, Christian. I won’t let you do to me what she did to you.”

“That’s not why I called her, Ana. I’m not asking her for technique, for fuck sake. This is Dominant thing. You don’t know anything about it, you can’t help me.”

“No, but I know you. You were fine until you tried to punish me. That’s what you’re struggling with, right? The punishment? You didn’t want to hurt me.”

I watch a muscle jump in his jaw and I know that I’m on the right track.

“Did she ignore your safewords?” I ask him. “Is that why you kept bringing them up? Was that you trying to reassure me that you would stop if I wanted you to because she didn’t stop for you?”

“Of course not, Ana. She’s never ignored a safeword. Jesus, why do you always have to try and turn me into some kind of victim? It wasn’t abuse! You were going to let me hit you, Ana. You let me tie you up, and you were going to let me hit you. You wanted this tonight. I wanted to make love to you in our bed, but you wanted this. How can you stand there and call what she did to me abuse when not thirty minutes ago, I had you tied to a chair and coming in my fucking hand. It wasn’t abuse.”

“Then why are you so freaked out right now?” I ask, my voice cold now. He straightens up, the gray in his eyes cold like steel as he stares back at me.

I know, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen. It’s why I wanted boundaries in the beginning, it’s why I wanted to keep us a secret, it’s why I still feel such a strong, visceral reaction to even hearing Elena Lincoln’s name. This is it, the regression Flynn warned us all about. I knew this was a possibility, but I ignored it. I wanted to believe that I could come back here and it would be different. That I could love him enough to help him break away from this but… he always goes back to her.

“If you can’t talk to me about how you fuck me, then you don’t get to fuck me at all. You said earlier that you knew my limits, but tonight you showed me that that is not true. Elena Lincoln is my hard limit, Christian. You need to be very aware of that going forward.”

I turn around and storm angrily back to the bathroom. My mind is racing a thousand miles a minute as I drain the tub and try and figure out my next move. This is the real test, am I going to stick it out and try to fight for him, or am I going to run?

Part of me thinks that I should run. This is bigger than me, obviously, and going through this again and again is too painful. Part of me thinks I should call Kate and have her come and get me. We could have my things packed and out of this apartment tonight. I’d have to quit my job at SIP, but if I leave him, this internship isn’t going to be helpful anyway… I’ve gotten back into Harvard which means I have something to look forward to get me through the summer. I’d have to find new housing, but I have a couple months to figure that out. If I’m going to leave, I need to do it now, before we get anymore wrapped up in this.

I take a deep breath and head back into the bedroom. My iPhone is on the charger next to the bed and I pick it up and begin scrolling through my contacts until I find Kate’s name but, just before I tap her name on the screen to call her, I stop. I stand there, frozen, staring down at my best friend’s name on my phone, but I can’t make the call.

I can’t do this.

I can’t run away from him again. I can’t go through what I went through last time again. I thought I could before, I thought I was strong enough to handle this, but when I climbed that mountain and made that decision, I’d forgotten the depth of my feelings for him. When I left him last time, I didn’t know what was waiting on the other side of that decision. I didn’t know about the agonizing months of pain, and loneliness, and even regret. I don’t want to go through that again, but more than that, I don’t want to leave him. I want to love him. I want him to love me.

Dr. Flynn said this could happen, that we should expect this to happen. That must mean that just because it has, doesn’t mean there isn’t hope. I have to believe there is hope. I wanted to fight for him, I told Elena I would fight for him, and this is the battle. I was raised by a soldier, and I know that no one escapes war without hurt, or hardship, or even a few scars. I will not concede to her, and I will not leave Christian behind.

I just have to find away to do that without giving away every piece of myself along the way.

Next Chapter

I have a rare moment alone the night before Christian’s birthday and I take full advantage of it. Poor Gail has come down with a horrible flu that has had her stuck in bed for three days now, so I’ve been on my own when it comes to birthday preparations. It hasn’t been easy since Christian doesn’t seem to want to spend a single moment apart from one another that we aren’t forced to because of work. He had therapy with Flynn tonight, though, so the moment he was out the door with Taylor, I went to the grocery store to buy the things I needed to bake his birthday cake and prepare my best meal for him, with Prescott dragging along behind me. I frown as I put the last of the groceries in the fridge. My negotiation skills with Christian haven’t been as effective as they normally are over the past week and a half and I still haven’t been able to get Luke back as my CPO. He’s been moved back to Grey House while I’m constantly followed around by Prescott, the wet mop.

It hasn’t been all terrible though… Luke’s responsibilities at GEH are not as time consuming as his job being my personal body guard was so he’s had time to look into Elena and try and find some proof that she’s the one leaking things to the paparazzi about Christian and I. He hasn’t been able to find irrefutable proof yet, but I know it’s her. She’s the only person it could be… The Google Alerts haven’t stopped since Christian’s been home, they just include him now. They stopped for the two days Elena was in New York, but not four hours after she was back, there was a picture of me talking to Jack Hyde outside of SIP that was spun on TMZ as a “lover’s quarrel”. Last weekend Christian was “picking up a girl in a coffee shop” because he’d run down to the corner to get us coffee and muffins and some girl waiting in line had dropped her keys. Whoever it is leaking the photos got a picture of him handing them back to her, but in the photo, it looked like he was holding her hand and smiling down at her, “with unmistakeable love in his eyes”.

I shake that image away immediately, feeling a flash of guilt that I let it get to me at all. I know it was nothing, and I can’t allow myself to be jealous over pictures of him if I expect him to keep a cool head about pictures posted of me.

Once I have everything from tonight’s trip to the store put away in the kitchen, I hurry into the bedroom, to make sure everything I have set aside for tomorrow night is tucked discreetly away under the bed. Again, I run my fingers through the leather straps of the flogger that Christian had ordered last weekend, taking solace in the fact that it is not the same one that Elena had tried to give me in that sex shop. We’ve actually purchased quite a few things and even just looking through some of the websites together online has led to some… interesting and hot nights, but we haven’t used any of this stuff yet. I’m not really sure what he’s waiting for, I’ve been dying to put some of these things to use all week…

I smile to myself as I tuck the flogger back into it’s case and slide it easily under the bed with the rest of the items I’ve pulled aside. They’ll all be put to very good use tomorrow night.

The low ping of the elevator echos in the empty apartment behind me so I quickly push the case under the bed, straighten out the comforter to hide the evidence I’d been in here, and make my way back out to the living room. I pause when I see Christian come out of the foyer. He looks almost… shell shocked. He’s been increasingly agitated coming home from therapy over the last week, but this is different. This isn’t anger or irritation. He looks gaunt.

Shit, what did they talk about?

“Hey,” I greet him and he looks up to me, the corner of his mouth turns up into a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey,” He replies, his voice almost hoarse, and it just exacerbates my concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” He says, unconvincingly. “I have some work to finish, calls to make… I’ll be in my office.”

“Okay… do you want me to bring you something to eat?” I ask. It’s almost eight and he hasn’t eaten dinner yet and a small part of me secretly hopes that’s the reason for his mood. Though I’m not counting on it.

“Yes. Please,” He says, giving me the same weak smile and then turning down the hallway towards his office.

He spends the rest of the night locked away and working. I try to leave him alone for as long as possible, giving him the space he clearly wants in this moment, but eventually, I find myself pacing in front of his office door, listening to him yelling at different members of his staff, trying to deduce if he’s acting strange because of something going on at work, or something he discussed in therapy. It’s impossible to tell by the muffled words I hear him shouting through his office door and eventually those stop too.

At a quarter past ten, I stick my head through the door and look at him cautiously, not sure if he’s in the mood to be interrupted.

“Christian?” I ask, and he looks up at me sharply, his eyes only softening a fraction when he sees me standing there looking worried. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“I’ll be in soon,” He says flatly and I frown.

“Are you…” I want to ask if he’s okay, but I did that already and he spent the night locked away in here. I can see that he isn’t okay and I don’t want him hiding away from me in here the rest of the night because he thinks I’m waiting to pounce on him for details. I don’t think tonight is the night to push him… “Are you going into work tomorrow?” I ask, instead.

“No,” He says. “No, I want to spend my birthday with you.”

“Okay,” I smile. “I’ll wait for you in bed.”

“Goodnight, baby,” He says, and he looks back down at the laptop open in front of him, effectively dismissing me. I sigh, close the door and head off for our bedroom.

The next morning, I wake up feeling like I’m on fire. Christian’s body is flush against mine, his arms wrapped tightly around me, even his leg is resting over the top of my hip, and his heat his radiating over me like open oven. I squirm away, putting just enough distance between us so that he isn’t pressed against me and it helps. My body adjusts to the temperature change but just as I start to drift off to sleep again, he shifts and snuggles up behind me once me. I shake my head and let out a defeated sigh, but I smile a little too to know how drawn he is to me, even in his sleep. Then, he flexes his hips and I feel him press, hard and ready, into my backside.

Oh, good morning, Christian.

I look over my shoulder at him but he’s still asleep. I smile at the whole new realm of possibilities that opens up in itself.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as the plan forms in my mind and I ease away from him again and, carefully, slide out of his arms. My body tenses as he takes a sharp, intake of breath through his nose and his eyelids move a little, but he doesn’t wake. Instead, he lets out a low, sleep induced moan and rolls over onto his back. Perfect.

Once I’m sure I’m not going to wake him, I duck underneath the comforter and shimmy my way down the bed until I’m level with his hips. With the gentle precision one might attribute to a surgeon, I reach out and slowly peel his shorts down over his hips to free his erection. He moves again and I freeze, a jolt of nervous excitement racing through me like I’m doing something I shouldn’t be and am just about to get caught. When he’s still again, I lean forward, and lightly run my tongue up his length. He still doesn’t wake so I wrap my hand around him and then guide the head of his erection into my mouth, enveloping him and sucking gently until I pull him into the back of my throat.

He groans.

I hum a low sound of approval, and move my tongue back and forth over him, squeezing him with my lips, as I pull him out of my mouth and then push down onto him again. His hips flex once more, encouraging me, and I take him deeper into my mouth. His hand reaches under the comforter and his fingers twist into my hair, pulling at the roots and then pushing me back down onto him.

“Oh, Ana…” I hear him moan as he thrusts up into my mouth. “That feels so good.”

I wrap my lips around the head of his erection, sucking hard and then rolling my tongue over the lip of his frenulum. His breath hisses between his teeth as he pushes himself deep into my mouth again. I feel him brush against the back of my throat and then pull back again. I run my tongue from side to side, sucking hard and keeping my lips tight around him as he thrusts in and out of my mouth, pushing the limits of how far he can move. I feel heat blooming between my legs as I listen to the carnal sounds spilling from his lips and sense the tightness in his thighs as he writhes beneath me, inching closer and closer to release.

“Anastasia, oh…” He breathes, his fingers tightening in my hair once more. “I’m going to come in your mouth, baby.”

I can’t speak so I suck harder to reassure him rather than tell him myself. He thrusts forward again, and I pull him as far into my mouth as possible, sucking and pulling like I’m trying to swallow him. He tenses and then explodes, and the warm, bitter liquid drips down my throat. I swallow it quickly, grimacing slightly as it’s not the easiest consistency to get down, but also feeling extraordinarily accomplished at having unravelled him with only my mouth.

His hands reach down and he pulls me up, the cool, clean air outside the comforter a welcome refreshment for only a second before his lips are on mine. I moan appreciatively, feeling his arms wrap around me, his fingers gripping tightly to me, as his tongue slips into my mouth.

“That was quite the wake-up call, Miss Steele.” He says, smiling at me.

“Well it is your birthday.” I reply and his eyes twinkle with salacious promise as he sits up and rolls me onto my back.

“My birthday, huh?” He says, “Well… if that’s the case, let’s see what else I can get away with?”

Well, his mood has certainly improved since last night.

I giggle and squirm a little as his hand slides up my thigh towards my panties but just as his finger hooks beneath the band, tugging my underwear to the side, and his index and middle finger find their way inside of me, we hear a voice echo through the apartment.

“Christian, good morning!” the chipper voice calls, and we both groan as we realize it’s Grace.

“Son of a bitch,” Christian growls, and I frown as he pulls his fingers out of me, adjusts his shorts so that he’s decent once more, and then rolls out of bed and heads towards the great room. I sigh, pull back the comforter and disappear into the closet to find some clothes. Once I’m dressed, I head out of the bedroom, finding Christian and, surprisingly, his entire family, and Kate standing around the breakfast bar. Grace is making herself busy around the kitchen and she smiles when she sees me come around the corner.

“Good morning, Ana!” She says brightly.

“Good morning,” I reply, “What’s everyone doing here?”

“My mom wanted to make me breakfast for my birthday…” Christian says, not bothering to hide the fact that he seems less than pleased by this perfectly sweet gesture.

“Now, Christian,” Grace says, “I know it’s been a few years, but this is our tradition. I’ve made chocolate chip pancakes for all of your birthdays, and all of your sister’s birthdays, and all of your brother’s birthdays, since you were all little. You love them.”

“Yeah, Christian,” Elliot says with a broad grin. “It’s not like you could have had anything better to do this morning… What were you planning to do? Lay in bed all day with your girlfriend? What could you possibly do in there that would be more appealing than spending the morning eating chocolate chip pancakes with your whole family?”

“That’s enough, Elliot,” Carrick says. “Why don’t you help set the table for everyone.”

“Ah man, I always have to set the table,” He grumbles as he makes his way into the kitchen to find plates.

“That’s because you’re obnoxious and people are always trying to get rid of you,” Mia quips and he glares at her.

“Don’t you have some over-angsty teenage brooding to be doing?” He asks. “I don’t think I’ve heard you complain about how unfair the world is all day today.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to that once you get to moving out of our parents house you 24 year old mooch.”

My hand flies up to my mouth as an uncontrollable giggle escapes my lips, and Elliot’s mouth opens with shock. Christian grips tightly to his brother’s shoulder, giving him a solemn look.

“That was a pretty savage burn,” He says, fighting a smile and Elliot glares at him.

“Mom cooks me food, why would I ever leave?” He asks and Christian laughs as he moves to the cabinet next to the oven to pull out more placemats for the dining room table.

It finally feels just like old times being gathered around Christian’s table and having breakfast with his family. Even Mia isn’t acting in her, now usual, resentful manner towards Christian and I can tell how much that means to him. I have a hard time keeping the smile off my face as I watch him talking to Mia about her upcoming, and very first, professional dance recital. He’s completely enraptured with her, staring down at her in the adoring way I remember from the very first time he told me he had read Harry Potter for her.

“You’re coming to our house on Sunday, aren’t you, Christian?” Grace asks. “We’re having a barbeque for father’s day, around one o’clock.”

“Absolutely,” Christian says, “We wouldn’t miss it. Right, Ana?”

“No, of course not. Can I bring anything?”

“Just your wonderful self,” Grace smiles. “Speaking of Father’s day, how’s Bob doing, Ana? Are your parents coming out here for the holiday? We’d love to have them over to the house to catch up.”

“Oh no, uh… I think I’ll have to settle for a phone call,” I say and she frowns but nods in an understanding way.

“Do you want them to come out?” Christian asks. “I can make arrangements to fly them out here.”

“Oh, uh… no. Don’t worry about it,” I reply awkwardly. My mother isn’t exactly team Christian right now and I really don’t want to deal with the two of them in the same room until there is some headway made on that front.

“Well we should have them come at some point,” Grace says. “Maybe the Fourth of July. I’m sure they’d love to get out of that horrible Savannah heat for a few days.”

“Maybe,” I shrug, non-committal. Christian gives me a skeptical glance at my less enthusiastic response, but Grace seems placated.

“And how’s Ray?” She asks. “Have you heard from him lately?”

“Yeah,” I say, brighter now. “He seems to have finally gotten my address right and I got a letter from him a few days ago. In fact, I’m going to get to talk to him on the phone for a few minutes on Sunday.”

“That’s wonderful, dear. We’ll have to plan something special for his return.”

“That’d be great,” I say, smiling broadly at her.

Once breakfast is over and we’ve cleared away the dishes, each of the Greys pull out a brightly wrapped package or gift bag for Christian. He gets a pair of expensive looking anti-reflective sunglasses from Grace and Carrick that Grace tells us are specially made for helicopter pilots, Kate and Elliot gift him a beautifully made leather jacket by Salvatore Ferragamo, and from Mia, he unwraps a plain, platinum tie bar from Tiffany and Co.

“Thanks, Meems,” He says, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her hair. She blushes and smiles up at him.

“What about you, Ana?” Elliot asks with a sly grin. “You don’t want to let Christian open your gift in front of everyone?”

Kate snorts into her drink and I glare at her… Did she tell him what I told her I was getting Christian for his birthday, or is he just making assumptions? She shakes her head at me, a genuinely innocent look behind her eyes, and I breathe a little easier.

“Oh, she already gave me her present this morning,” Christian says with a knowing smile.

“Okay, okay…” Carrick interrupts him, and then quickly changes the subject. “Are you taking the day off, Son?” He asks.

“Yeah, we’re actually going to head down to the Marina this afternoon to take a look at boat I’m thinking of buying as a birthday gift to myself.”

“That sounds great, Christian!” Carrick says proudly. “Ah, I remember my first sailboat.”

Christian’s lips come together in a tight kind of pout and he nods along as his father tells the story. I have a feeling he’s hiding something, but I’m not sure what…

“You’re going to go out on the water this afternoon?” Elliot asks.

“Yeah, you want to come?” Christian offers and Elliot lights up.

“Hell yeah!”

Christian nods and then turns to Mia. “How about you, Meems? Wanna spend the day on the sound?”

“I can’t,” She says, not looking up from the cell phone in her hand. “I’ve got dance rehearsal this afternoon.” Christian frowns, but nods, and everyone gets up from the table so that we can head out. Grace gives me one last reminder about Sunday as she hugs me goodbye, and I feel a twinge of sadness as I tell her goodbye and watch her, Carrick and Mia walk through the foyer to the elevator. It’s like she doesn’t really expect Christian to actually show up… and as I think about it, I realize that’s probably true. Carrick and Christian have had a difficult relationship as long as I’ve known him, and it had never been worse than it had been over the last two years. It’s been good these last few weeks, but I can understand Grace’s apprehension in accepting it’s going to last. Christian’s been that way since I stepped through the doors of his office last month. Maybe he gets that untrusting nervousness from his mother.

“We should get dressed,” Christian says, interrupting my inner musings. “I’m ready to get out onto the water to enjoy our afternoon.”

Twenty minutes later, Kate, Elliot, Christian and I pile into Christian’s Maybach and head down to the Marina. Elliot presses Christian for details about the boat we’re going to look at, but he remains fairly tight lipped, and once we pull up to the Marina boat terminal in Smith Cove, I can see why.

“Ho-ly shit!” Elliot says, elongating his syllables as he looks up at the luxury yacht docked in front of us. It isn’t a boat… it’s a fucking ship.

The yacht has three decks. The lower exterior is painted a deep blue while the top sections are a clean, arctic white. It’s huge, so huge, in fact, that it doesn’t sway at all in the gentle current rolling its way towards the shore, and as I stare over the impressive luxury yacht in front of me, I look incredulously over at Christian.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” He says, a wide grin across his face. His fingers entwine with mine and he walks up the pier towards a man waiting next to the small ramp that leads to an open door at the base of the yacht.

“Mr. Grey,” The man says, smiling broadly at us as he holds his hand out to shake Christian’s. “Here she is, the Benetti 60, brought in all the way from the Dominican Republic.”

“Well, let’s see it,” Christian says, and the man nods and gestures for us all to go aboard.

He leads us through the grotesquely luxurious rooms of the yacht, all filled with a fine assortment of furniture and top end finishes. There are grand, sweeping windows surrounding us everywhere we go, giving us an amazing view of the sound around us. I have no sphere of reference to compare to the quality of this yacht, but, as we’re led up the winding marble staircase to the second level and the salesman rattles off the full list of specifications, I know it has to be one of the more impressive yachts on the market.

“She has six VIP cabins that can accommodate twelve guests, and seven additional cabins below that can house up to fifteen crew members. Your master suite cabin is just off the sitting room here, and in addition to the generous open space of the bedroom, it has his and hers bathrooms, a huge walk in closet, it’s own lounge, and a private office.”

“That’s fine,” Christian nods, looking around and examining the second sitting room we’ve been shown. I watch his eyes follow the wall up to the ceiling and he looks at it skeptically.”

“The top deck, is it helicopter accessible?” He asks.

“Yes, sir. There’s a helideck already installed on the stern section of the third deck.” He says and Christian’s eyes light up with excitement.

“Excellent. What’s her range?”

“Eight thousand nautical miles, sir,” He says, and as Christian turns to look around some more, he adds, “Would you like to take her out, Mr. Grey? Get a feel of her on the open water?”

“Yes,” Christian says. “I would.”

The salesman nods and then disappears to ask the captain to take the boat out into the sound. Kate and Elliot both excitedly rush out to the second level promenade so they can watch the boat sail away from the pier while feeling the warm, sea air whipping around them, but Christian holds me back with him.

“Let’s go check out our bedroom,” He says and I can’t help the smile that creeps across my face as he leads me into the master suite. The room is slightly rounded with floor to ceiling length windows covering one wall and a huge, beautifully made bed against the other. I crane my neck slightly to see through the door on the far side of the room that leads to what would be our own private balcony, but Christian distracts me by tugging on my wrist and pulling me into him, and then kissing me deeply.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“About the yacht?” I reply, my voice raising a little too high at the ridiculousness of the question. “It’s amazing, Christian, but don’t you think it’s a little much?”

“No,” He says, plainly. “It’s the best there is, Anastasia, and I want only the best for you. Just imagine, the two of us alone, out at sea, making love in this bed.”

I moan, a low, approving sound as I picture it, staring down at the very bed he’s speaking of. It’s right here, and we are alone…

“I don’t know how good my imagination is, Mr. Grey,” I say coyly. “Maybe you could give me a… demonstration to help sway my opinion on the yacht?”

“Oh, Miss Steele,” He says, his voice dark with salacious need. “You know that I would love nothing more than to take you here, and now, but unfortunately, I have other plans for you this afternoon.”

“Oh?” I ask, intrigued. Other plans? Maybe kinky plans..?

He crosses the room and sits down on the end of the bed, pulling out a small square box from his jacket. I stare at it dubiously, but go to him when he holds his arms out for me.

He stops me just as I’m standing in front of him, and then his fingers find their way to the front of my shorts and they quickly pull open my buttons and zipper. I glance nervously over my shoulder at the open windows behind me as he slides my shorts and my underwear down my legs.

“Don’t worry, baby,” He assures me. “That’s a private balcony. I wouldn’t let anyone else see you this way.”

I nod and then exhale with desire as he leans forward and places a single kiss over my clitoris. He looks up at me, smiling, and then opens the box to reveal two silver balls, tied together with a short, black string.

“Open your mouth,” He tells me and I do. He lifts the balls to my mouth and pushes them past my lips and onto my tongue. “Suck,” He commands, his voice only a whisper, and I feel it in my groin. I suck on the metal balls, coating them with my saliva as I anticipate what he plans to do with them. His eyes grow dark and hooded as he watches my mouth move around them.

“Turn around,” He instructs me once he’s removed the silver balls from my mouth, and when I do, he places his hand on my lower back and pushes slightly so that I bend over. “Hold onto your ankles, baby.”

I groan loudly when his lips make precious contact with my now aching center and he begins to swirl his tongue tantalizingly around my clitoris. I succumb to his expert touch, unconsciously pushing back into him as I silently, but greedily, plead for more. His mouth moves against me, sucking and licking me until I’m just on the brink of orgasm, and then he stops and gently eases the silver balls inside of me. I wait for his mouth to continue, but instead, his fingers reach down for my shorts and he pulls them up, covering me once more.

“No…” I whimper in protest, but he clicks his tongue disapprovingly in response.

“Oh no, baby. You’ve got quite aways to go before I let you come. I want to watch you… suffer a little first.”

He slaps me, hard, on the behind and the balls inside of me jolt forward. A strangled cry escapes my lips as I find myself unprepared for the sensation and then I moan again, my need apparent in my complaint, as once again I feel the burning desire and promise for release rising inside of me. He smacks me once more, the balls massaging my insides as he grabs and kneads my ass under my shorts, and I think for a minute, I might be able to come this way. But, then, he stops once more.

“You’re not very nice,” I tell him as he stands next to me and he chuckles slightly.

“Oh, Anastasia. I have been accused of being many things in the past, but nice is rarely one of them. Now, come. There’s something I want to do.”

He holds his hand out for mine and I sigh in defeat as I take it and walk out of the room with him. The balls inside of me shift as I walk, and it’s uncomfortable but in a really good way. It’s enough to keep me on the edge, wanting and needy, but not enough to give me release.

We find Kate and Elliot out on the deck and I’m surprised when we step out into the open air how far out from the coast we are. I didn’t think Christian and I had been in the bedroom for that long, but apparently, both Kate and Elliot disagree.

“I’m sorry,” Christian apologizes, when Elliot makes a comment about keeping guests waiting. “But I have something that might make it up to you.”

He signals for one of the staff members who are hovering silently behind us everywhere we go on the boat to tell the captain to stop the engines and to set anchor. Then he leads us back down to the first level of the yacht and out to the open deck at the back of the boat. Elliot’s eyes widen when he sees what’s waiting for us there.

“Jet skis!” He exclaims and I laugh as I’m immediately harkened back to our time in Bora Bora when that’s all he could think about for an entire week. He hurries forward and pulls up the seat on the one closest to him to yank out the life jackets. He throws one at Kate, who shakes her head at his tenacity, but who is also grinning as she scurries forward to help him pull the ski into the water.

Christian takes a life jacket out of the ski across from it and holds it out for me to slip my arms into. A small, knowing smile creeps across his lips as he tightens the straps around me, and then once he’s in his own life jacket, he pulls the machine forward and eases it into the water next to Kate and Elliot.

“Sit in front of me,” He says, holding his arm open as he scoots back on the ski.

“Are you sure?” I ask, dubiously. “How will you see?”

“I’ll see fine,” He assures me, and so I step off of the boat and onto the jet ski, straddling the seat in front of him. He straps the key to my life vest and then plugs it into the ignition. When he hits the green button next to it, the engine roars to life and he eases onto the throttle so that we pull easily away from the yacht. Elliot is not as cautious as Christian and he slams on the gas, sending him and Kate shooting off through the water ahead of us.

“Ready?” Christian asks, and I nod excitedly. “Hold on tight with your legs, baby. This is going to be intense.”

I grip the side of the machine with my legs and he presses down on the gas and we hurtle forward. I’m confused why he doesn’t keep a wider distance when he comes up behind Elliot, but as he steers the jet ski through Kate and Elliot’s wake… I know why.

We hit the wave and as the jet ski bounces and then slams back down on the water, the balls inside of me jerk, electrifying me once again. I gasp, loudly, and hear him chuckle behind me.

“Hold on tight, baby,” He tells me and then he steers through the wake again. When he’s no longer confined us just to Elliot’s wake, he steers us towards a particularly choppy straight of water and hits the gas. The jet ski bounces as it skims over the water, and so do the balls inside of me. As I bob up and down on the seat, I feel the heat beginning to build inside of me. Holy fuck, is he going to make me come on the jet ski?

“Christian!” I cry out, and the hand he doesn’t have on the throttle snakes around my waist to hold me in place.

“Is it too much?” He asks, his voice low and husky at my ear.

“No…” I whimper as the balls shift tantalizingly inside of me once more. “Fuck. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”

“Are you going to come, Anastasia?”

“Yes!” I exclaim, almost at the edge, and then Christian moves his thumb off the gas. The jet ski comes to an easy stop and once the bouncing ceases, so does the promising heat inside of me.

“No!” I complain and he chuckles once more.

“Not yet, baby.”

A pattern ensues, him bringing me almost to the edge and then stopping right before I tip over. I’m panting by the time we head back to the yacht, literally quivering with desire and my need for him, for release, for anything. He helps me off the jet ski, which a few staff members hurry forward to pull back onto the deck and then he takes my hand and leads me back to the main level, asking Kate and Elliot if they’d like to have some cocktails before heading back to shore.

As we sit in the main level sitting room, waiting for the unfamiliar staff to bring the drinks we’ve requested, I find myself too keyed up to pay attention to the conversation between Christian and Elliot. Kate tries to ask me about work and then, covertly, whether or not Luke has found any new information on Elena, but I’m useless for more than one word answers and simple shrugs. I feel flushed, my whole body hot as every movement twists the balls inside of me and drags out the blistering need.

And then… just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I feel the balls start to vibrate. Oh… fuck!

“Ana, what’s wrong?” Kate asks, as I physically can’t pull back my reaction to this new sensation. The vibrating stops immediately, and I shake my head at her, giving her some off handed excuse about cramps, and then turn to Christian. He doesn’t look over at me, he doesn’t look as though he’s noticed any change. He’s just sitting there, talking to Elliot. But as I settle back into my chair, wondering if I maybe just imagined the sensation in my sex crazed state of mind, I watch Christian subtly reach into his pocket and then the vibration begins again.

That kinky bastard has a remote!

“Christian!” I squeak, and as he pulls his hand out of his pocket the vibration stops, and he turns to look at me.

“Yes, baby?” He asks, a self satisfied smirk playing across his lips.

“Can I see you in private for a minute?” I ask and he nods and tells Elliot he’ll be right back, before getting out of his seat and following me back into the master bedroom. The minute I have him alone and can close and lock the door behind him, I pounce. My lips come crashing down on his and I practically leap into his arms. He doesn’t push me away or spurn my advances in anyway. He seems just as eager as I am to have me wrapped around his waist as he carries me back to the bed.

“You’re so hot like this, Ana,” He whispers, once he’s deposited me onto the sand colored bedspread. “I like you needy, baby.”

“Just fuck me, Christian,” I groan and he smiles.

“Oh, Ana. With pleasure.”

He makes quick work of the buttons on my shorts and then roughly yanks them off of me, my panties coming with them in one swift movement. His hands immediately find my opening, his fingers reaching inside of me to remove the balls and make room for him, and as he slides his fingers inside of me, his breath hisses between his teeth.

“Fuck, you’re soaking,” He practically growls and I moan and grind against his fingers, desperate for the friction. “Oh no, baby.” He tells me once he’s removed the balls and left me wanting once more. “If you’re going to come, you’re going to do it on my cock.”

I whimper as he reaches down for his fly and releases his erection. He doesn’t hesitate as he leans over the top of me and buries himself inside of me. I scream at the intense wave of pleasure I feel at the sudden fullness and he reaches up and puts his hand over my mouth.

“We’re not alone, Anastasia. You have to be quiet,” He chides me, but as he pulls back and then slams into me again, I cry out once more. “Can you be quiet?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Then you’re going to have to scream into my hand, baby,” He tells me. I groan as he begins to thrust forward, pushing into me deep and hard and driving me to the edge of insanity. It’s almost too much, the sensation of him inside of me coupled with an entire afternoon of need and deprivation, I feel like I’m going to explode when I finally find release.

“Fuck, baby,” Christian hisses, as he slams forward again. “You’re so fucking wet. Mmm, this is going to be quick.”

He gets into his rhythm, moving in and out of me in quick, harsh movements that hit me everywhere I need him to. The heat begins to build, burning out of control like wildfire until eventually I reach the very pinnacle of my pleasure and I detonate around him.

“Jesus, fuck, Ana!” Christian cries as I squeeze around him harder than I ever have before. The pleasure is so intense, I fear for a minute that I might be ripped apart by my orgasm but I’m so blissfully high, I don’t care. There are worse ways to go in this world.

He continues to pound into me, stretching out the pleasure with his relentless ardor until eventually he stills and pours his own release into me.

I’m shaking when I come down, almost unable to breathe through the gasps that escape from deep inside my chest. He continues to hold his hand over my mouth as my breathing really is too loud, but once I’ve got it under control, his hand disappears and is immediately replaced by his lips.

“You’re a fucking goddess,” He says, reverentially. I moan and pull him deeper into the kiss, exploring his perfect, chiseled mouth with my tongue.

When the boat docks, the salesman who met us earlier this afternoon is waiting excitedly at the end of the dock.

“I don’t know,” Elliot says as we make our way down the ramp and onto the pier. “I looked around. There are only four jet skis. He said there is enough room for twelve people on this boat. That means only a third of us could be riding jet skis at any one time. What does he expect us to do, share? Like peasants?”

Christian glowers at him. “We can get more jet skis.”

“You promise?” Elliot asks. “Because I won’t share.”

“Sure,” Christian responds, just as we finally make it to the salesman.

“Well Mr. Grey, what do you think?” He asks.

“He’ll take it!” Elliot says excitedly and Christian glares at him before turning back to the salesman.

“What’s the final asking price?”

“$35,000,000,” The salesman says casually, and I feel my stomach drop. Million? Holy fuck…

“American?” Elliot asks, his tone echoing my own shock and the salesman nods uneasily.

Christian turns around and looks at the yacht again, examining it thoughtfully. His eyes fall on the balcony high above us that I realize must be the balcony to the master suite and a smile tugs at his lips.

“I’ll take it,” He says, turning back to the salesman. “I’ll get you in touch with my accountant, he’ll have the payment transferred to the owner by the end of business next Friday.

“Excellent!” The salesman says giddily, holding his hand out and shaking Christian’s a little too enthusiastically. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Grey.”

“Oh no,” Christian says, shooting an appreciative look down at me. “The pleasure was all mine.”

Next Chapter

Christian wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t want me to leave the next day. I wake up the next morning, and when I head out to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, I find both Prescott and Ryan there waiting for me.

“I’ll be ready to leave in 20 minutes, Prescott,” I say disinterestedly as I take the mug Gail offers me, but she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, Miss Steele. Mr. Grey has instructed Ryan and I to keep in you in the apartment today.” She says and I gape back at her.

“So what, you’re going to hold me prisoner here?” I ask and Ryan shakes his head, trying to be diplomatic.

“It’s just for today, ma’am. Mr. Grey simply wants to keep you out of the media spotlight until he’s back in Seattle.”

I look back at Gail, expecting to see a look of shock on her face similar to my own, but she simply diverts her eyes and quietly exits the kitchen. I glance between Prescott and Ryan, waiting for one of them to at least acknowledge how ridiculous this is, but they both stare back at me, completely stoic.

“Fine,” I snap, and I pick up a croissant off the counter and march angrily for the stairs to the office Christian had put together for me. The second the door closes behind me I pull out my phone, find Christian’s name in my recent calls and jab my finger against the screen to call him.

“You have reached the voicemail box of”

“Arghhhh!” I cry with frustration. I hang up the phone and collapse into my chair, resting my head in my folded arms and repeating to myself that he’s going to be home tonight and all of this will be solved once we can finally just have a fucking conversation.

It’s difficult to get all of my work done from Escala. I had three meetings today which had to be rescheduled for Friday because we couldn’t get Lifesize to work on my laptop and Barney couldn’t get down here in time to fix what was wrong. I try to make the best of feeling disconnected from the office by taking the time to focus on some new manuscripts, and I get a good amount accomplished until I’m distracted by the ping of my email.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Delayed

Date: June 9th 2010 03:15 PM

To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia,

One of my meetings has been rescheduled for Thursday morning. I won’t be home until tomorrow evening.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings INC

What? No! I glance at my phone, itching to call him again, but I’ve had it proved to me over the last twenty four hours that that’s pointless, so I reply to the email instead, knowing that at least he’ll read it.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Christian please…

Date: June 9th 2010 03:18 PM

To: Christian Grey

Please call me. We need to talk, I’m going crazy over here. I’m sorry that I went out with Kate on Monday night and I’m sorry that I even went to that stupid sex shop. I’m not trying to embarrass you, I really thought I was being careful. Please, please call me.

And I miss you. I’m sorry that I’m not going to get to see you tonight.

Anastasia Steele

Implementation Director, Grey Enterprises Holdings INC

I wait, staring impatiently back at my email, but several minutes pass and nothing comes through. I drum my fingers on the keys of my laptop, wondering what to do from here when I remember what Kate suggested yesterday.

Did you call Ros or Taylor?

Ros! I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to think of this. Taylor is a lost cause because he’s not going to do anything Christian doesn’t want him to, but he doesn’t have that kind of influence on Ros. She’ll not only talk to me, but she’d probably give him the phone if I asked her to. He may hang up on me, but it’s better than listening to his voicemail ten times a day.

I quickly dial her number and feel a wave of relief when she picks up on the third ring.

“Hey, Ana. What’s up?”

“Just working… How’s it going over there?”

“Great. Christian has, actually, been on the ball all week. I haven’t seen him focused like this since… probably Harvard. I think we may have sealed three separate deals since we’ve been here.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised.

“Yeah, it’s awesome. How’s SIP?”

“Fine. Did you see the email I sent about the eReader?”

“Yeah, I did. I think that’s a great idea. Christian seemed to be excited about it too. I think he’s really proud of you, Ana. I can tell it makes him really happy to see you doing so well.”

I feel my heart sink. So, he’s been perfectly fine around her all week? Happy even? I don’t even know what to make of that.

“Hey, I’m just about to get on my flight. Can I call you when I get to Seattle tonight? Or maybe we can do lunch tomorrow?”

“Wait… You’re coming home? I thought you had to stay an extra day?”

“No, we’re all set. Christian had something personal to take care of so he’s staying an extra day but we wrapped up with our last client this morning.”

“Oh…” I say, because that’s all I can say. “Then, uh, yeah… Let’s schedule a lunch.”

“Sounds great. See you soon, Ana,” Ros says, and she hangs up the phone. I stare down at it blankly. If their meetings are done, then what got rescheduled? I suspect what the answer to that is and the idea brings tears to my eyes. There is no meeting being rescheduled. He’s just this mad at me. He hasn’t even been able to talk to me on the phone, did I really expect him to just come home and everything would be fine?

No, I didn’t think everything would be fine, but I also didn’t think he’d extend his trip because he wasn’t ready to see me yet.

I spend the entire morning the next day just waiting for an email from Christian telling me that he’s not coming home again, but it doesn’t come. I want to ask him to at least text me and let me know when he’s leaving, but I’ve given up trying to contact him, it hurts too much at this point to have him reject me over and over again. So instead, I try and distract myself once I’m done working by having Kate ask Elliot over to watch a baseball game. He agrees, but once he gets to Escala, no one seems overly interested in the Mariners.

Christian texts Elliot, not me, when he’s finally aboard his flight to leave New York late that afternoon. It’s a five and a half hour direct flight from New York to Seattle and since the game isn’t enough to distract me, I do my best to kill time by tidying the already immaculate apartment and cooking dinner for Kate and Elliot.

They sit on the couch, staring at, but not really watching the game, while I pace nervously back and forth in front of the scenic windows, watching the sun sink lower in the sky. I’m not sure what is going to happen when Christian gets home, but in preparation, I’ve asked Gail to take the night off. Kate and Elliot are going to leave at about 10 since Christian should be walking in somewhere around 10:30, and as I count the minutes slowly ticking away, I grow more and more worried about what’s coming home to me.

I hope we fight. Fighting would be good, at least it would be talking. I’m terrified that he’s going to come home and nothing will change. I can’t handle him shutting me out like this…

I glance over at the TV, hoping the droning sounds of the announcers will do something to catch my attention, even just for a second, but as I watch one of the players for the Texas Rangers catch a fly ball that puts the batter up for the Mariner’s out, my attention is drawn by the ping of the elevator and I feel a sudden rush of adrenaline.

My head whirls around to the foyer, my breath caught in my chest, but just as quickly as my hopes had peaked, they’re deflated again when I see Luke walking towards me.

“Ana,” He says, and my face heats with dread when I hear the uneasy timber of his voice. He looks… nervous.

“What?” I ask, unsure if I really want to know what he has to say, but before he answers, he looks at Kate and Elliot on the couch.

“Can I talk to you in private for a minute?”

“Whatever you have to say to her, you can say in front of me,” Kate says, but he shakes his head.

“Actually… I’d prefer not to tell you what I have to tell you in front of Elliot.” Luke says, and Elliot’s brow furrows.

“Me?” He asks, confused. “What? Is it about Christian?” Luke’s jaw tenses and Elliot gets up off the couch, his body rigid as he glares at Luke.

“What do you have to say?” Elliot asks sharply, but Luke just turns to look at me.

“Please, Ana.?”

I look over at Elliot and his fingers curl together into a fist as he stares angrily at Luke. “Just tell me.” I say quietly.

“Ana…”

“Just tell me,” I say again and he takes a deep breath.

“I was looking into some things. That night at the club, those photos of you and I… I was careful, Ana. I was aware of everything going on around us. There were no paparazzi at the club that night.”

“So someone got a picture of me on their phone. We already knew that, it happened to Kate and I the other day.”

“Exactly, that’s what made me want to look into it. I was worried you had a stalker or, at the very least, maybe an undercover photographer was following you around. I decided to see if I could find someone who had a connection to you, and so I started with the club. I had Welch pull the transaction records from the bar that night and sure enough, one of the names that came up was… Elena Lincoln.”

“Elena?”

“Could you think of someone who would have more reason to leak to the press that you’re cheating on Christian?”

“Oh my god, Ana…” Kate says, her eyes widening. “Elena was there, at that sex shop we went to.”

“Sex shop?” Elliot asks, but Kate shakes her head and brushes him off.

“So, it’s her?” I ask. “She’s been taking pictures of me and sending them into TMZ?”

“That was my thought. So I went onto the GEH server and started going through her emails, looking to see if she’s sent the pictures from her work account…”

“And?” I ask.

“She hadn’t…” He says hesitantly but I know this can’t be it, he wouldn’t come down here to talk to me unless he had some kind of proof.

“So, maybe from a personal email or a fake account?”

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet,” He replies and I feel my face fall with disappointment.

“So what are you doing here?” I ask.

“And what does this have to do with Christian?” Elliot chimes in. Luke looks over to Elliot, swallows and then turns to face me again.

“When I was in Elena’s email account, I found something.”

My body freezes. “What?”

“An itinerary. A flight for Wednesday night that was booked earlier in the afternoon. A flight from Seattle to New York. The name on the credit card confirmation was Christian Grey.”

“What?” I ask, my voice only a breath, and, slowly, Luke reaches into his jacket and pulls out his cell phone. He opens the email app and hands it to me.

From: United Airlines

Subject: eTicket Itinerary and Receipt for Confirmation JV9KM4

Date: June 9th 2010  01:07 PM

To: Elena Lincoln

Issue Date: June 09, 2010

Traveler: eTicket Number: Arrival City and Time:

Elena A. Lincoln       0162458734646        New York, NY (JFK)  11:15 PM EST

FARE INFORMATION Form of Payment

Fare breakdown:         VISA

Airfare:  $715.00 XXXXXXXXXXXX9723

US Transportation Tax:  $35.91 EXP: 02/12     CVV: 089

US Flight Segment Tax: $21.00 Name: Christian T. Grey

September 11th Security Tax: $11.19

U.S. Passenger Facility: $9.00

Per Person Total: $792.10 USD

eTicket Total: $792.10 USD

My hands are shaking as I read the email for the third time. This is from yesterday, her flight was yesterday. He booked this flight before he emailed me to tell me that he was staying behind in New York an extra day. This is why he stayed… the personal thing Ros said he had to take care of while she flew home. Anger begins to surge through the shock and I press my lips tightly together as I click the button to forward the confirmation to my email.

“Ana?” Elliot asks, hesitantly, from across the room and I inhale sharply as I hand Luke back his phone.

“Everyone out,” I say, impressed that I’m able to keep my voice even.

“Ana, there has to be a reason…” Elliot implores me, but I shake my head and turn an angry glare on him.

“You think I care what his reason is?” I hiss through my teeth. Elliot’s mouth opens to respond but no words come out.

“Ana, he’s going to be here in two hours…” Kate says, looking up at the ornate clock hung on the wall across from her. “Why don’t you grab some clothes and you can come and stay with me at my parents tonight? We can figure out what to do about this tomorrow when you’ve had a chance to calm down and think…”

“No, she can’t go,” Elliot argues. “She has to be here. If he’s calling Elena, she, of all people, has to be here. If this is what we think it is, it means he’s slipping again and if she’s gone when he gets home…”

“It’s not always about Christian, Elliot,” Kate snaps. “I’m not going to let him hurt her again. Not like this.”

“Ana knew what we were up against, she knew that this was a possibility when she signed up. She chose to stay, she needs to stay.” Elliot replies, raising his voice now.

“Ana,” Luke says calmly. “What do you want to do?”

I take a deep calming breath. “I want you all to leave.”

They stare at me, frozen in place but each for different reasons. I can almost hear the arguments swirling around in Kate’s head and I can feel the tension radiating off of Elliot, even from all the way across the room. Part of me wonders if he would try and stop me if I wanted to go… but it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to leave. I told Christian I was here to stay and when I said that, I meant it. If I’m going to leave now, I’m not going to sneak out while he’s on a flight back to Seattle. I at least owe him the chance to explain. He hasn’t given me that chance all week, and I know how that feels. He’s wrong about Luke… Maybe, just maybe, there could possibly be an explanation for this email.

But I don’t want any of these three here when Christian gets home. Any worry I had before that he was going to be silent and shut me out is now out the window. There is going to be a fight. A loud fight.

“I’m serious,” I say again, “I want you all gone. Now.”

“You’re not going to leave?” Elliot checks.

“No, Elliot. I’m not leaving. I’m going to talk to him. Now go.”

“Come on, Kate,” He says and he reaches out his hand for her but Kate narrows her eyes at me.

“You’re sure? You don’t have to stay because Elliot wants you to, Ana. You don’t owe Christian anything.”

“Yes I do,” I tell her. “I love him, Kate, and until I hear what happened from him, I owe him the benefit of the doubt. I owe him a little faith that he wouldn’t do something like this to me again.”

“If you need anything,” Luke says urgently. “You call me and I will come and get you immediately.”

“Thanks, Luke,” I tell him. “Now, go.”

He nods and then turns around, Elliot following after him, and then after another long second of hesitation, Kate leaves too. I listen to the elevator doors slide closed behind them and the second I know I’m alone, my stone facade breaks and horrible, retching sobs break through my lips. I hurry back to our bedroom and collapse on the bed as tears roll down my cheeks. My fingers tangle into the sheets that only a few days ago, Christian had made love to me in.

I have to believe that he wouldn’t betray me again. I have to believe that there is some perfectly logical explanation for what happened because, abusive past and traumatic bonding aside, I would not get over this betrayal.

I roll onto my back, trying to regain control of my breathing and as I do, I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I know it’s still too early for Christian to have landed, and so I assume it’s Kate and that she’s changed her mind and is coming back up here to try and take me back to Mercer Island with her. I don’t want her to come back up here and see me like this so I pull my phone out to try and reassure her, but when I look down at the screen, it isn’t Kate calling. It’s an unknown number. An unknown 617 number…

Fuck! Now?

“Hello?” I answer, trying to keep my voice steady and hide my tears.

“Good evening, is this Anastasia Steele?” a male voice responds.

“Yes,” I croak. I clear my throat and then try again. “Yes, this is she.”

“Miss Steele, this is James Harris, the Dean of Students from Harvard University.”

“Hello, Mr. Harris.”

“I’m calling to inform you that the investigation the University was conducting against you in regards to the merit of your internship has been suspended indefinitely.”

I have to take a moment to catch my breath as this unexpected news actually leaves me winded. Suspended indefinitely? What does that mean?

“Wh-what?” I ask, making sure I heard him correctly.

“Mr. Grey had a meeting with the president of the University this afternoon to discuss the details of your internship and the work that you’ve done this summer for Grey Enterprises Holdings. Dr. Giplin-Faust was extremely impressed by the glowing commendation Mr. Grey gave about you, your professionalism, and the things you’ve accomplished thus far over the summer, and as a result, the University has decided to forgo its investigation. You are free to return for the start of term on September 2nd.”

I’m shocked, actually shocked… Christian had a meeting with the president of Harvard University? I’m pretty sure you usually have to be like… a senator, or a supreme court justice, or something equally as important to get that. And as my head begins to spin thinking of what he probably had to do, or more likely spend, to get that meeting, I realize… holy shit, this is the meeting that was rescheduled. This is why he had to stay an extra day. He wasn’t meeting Elena, he was meeting the president of Harvard University. He’s not even in New York, he’s in Cambridge.

“Miss Steele?” Mr. Harris asks after I’ve been silent for an inappropriate amount of time and I shake my head slightly to reorient myself.

“I’m sorry… um, thank you, Mr. Harris. I appreciate you taking the time to call and let me know the outcome of the investigation.”

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Steele. Enjoy the rest of your summer.”

“You as well. Goodbye, Mr. Harris.”

I hang up the phone and stare blankly at the wall in front of me. There are so many emotions weaving their way through me it’s hard to keep track of them all. Relief to know for sure that Christian didn’t spend the afternoon in bed with some brown haired submissive girl, or worse, Elena herself, joy that my fears of losing Harvard are now behind me, and overwhelming satisfaction that I made the right decision tonight. I didn’t run and Christian proved that he deserved my faith in him. I still want know why he sent Elena out to New York, but I know for sure now that it wasn’t to meet him.

I look down at my phone. I still have about an hour before Christian’s flight lands… and I know exactly how I’m going to spend that time…

My phone buzzes a little over an hour later with a text message from Luke telling me that Taylor has gotten ahold of him and he and Christian are both back in Seattle. A smile creeps across my lips as I light the last of the candles I’ve artfully arranged around the bathroom and then pull the robe off my shoulders and step into the, deep, luxurious bubble bath.

I sit there for only a few minutes, the warm water lapping gently against my collar bones every time I move my body, before I hear Christian’s muffled voice ring through the apartment from the foyer.

“Anastasia!” He calls, the concern in his voice overtly apparent even through the bedroom and long hall that lay between us. I can hear the low sounds of him tearing through the apartment looking for me, and the crash of the door when he bursts into the bedroom. “Ana!” He calls again and a few seconds later, the bathroom door swings open. The second he sees me sitting in the tub, an overwhelming look of relief crosses his face, but once it hits him that I haven’t left… he’s immediately guarded again.

“Hi,” I say quietly.

“Hi,” He replies.

“Welcome home.”

He stands there for a moment, looking at me skeptically, like he’s waiting for some kind of catch, but after a long moment moment of silence between us, he reaches up for his tie and begins to tug on the knot. I watch him carefully as he slowly undresses in front of me and then crosses the tile floor to step into the bath with me. Once he’s settled into the tub, he reaches out and to pull me into him, but I lift my foot and press it into his shoulder to keep him at bay.

“Oh no, we’re not there yet,” I say and his face falls. “You ignored my phone calls for two days, Christian. Do you know what it’s been like for me here?”

“Yes,” He says flatly. “I know exactly what it was like. I ignored you for two days, you ignored me for two years.”

I frown. “This is different and you know it. You were shutting me out over a misunderstanding, that I know was cleared up probably minutes after that TMZ article came out. That’s not what happened before so don’t compare the two.”

He sighs and then leans back, picking up one of the champagne glasses resting on the edge of the tub and draining it before he speaks again. “Anastasia, I was mad at you. I was afraid of what I would say to you out of anger. I didn’t want to say something stupid and hurtful to you that I couldn’t take back and then come home to and find out you’d left. So I just… said nothing. Well, I tried.” He looks away from me for a moment, chagrin crossing his face as he sets the champagne flute back on the edge of the tub. “I shouldn’t have said that you embarrassed me. It wasn’t entirely accurate. You hurt me. I was already angry because you hadn’t answered any of my calls or emails and then I found out you were at a club. I know what happens to your libido when you drink and when I saw those pictures of you and Sawyer, when I thought, even for just those few minutes, I thought my worst fears were confirmed. It nearly killed me, Anastasia.”

“Those pictures were nothing, Christian. I was upset, and Luke hugged me. He isn’t kissing me in that picture, he’s leaning into to speak in my ear because the music was loud. It was a stupid photograph taken from a bad angle to make it look like something was happening that wasn’t. I would never do something like that to you, Christian. You’re the only one I want.”

“I’m sorry,” He says. “I won’t doubt you again.”

“You can’t shut me out when you get mad. I know you’re afraid that I’m going to run, but I’ve promised you that I won’t. If I can’t run, then you can’t either. Deal?”

“Deal.”

I look at him very seriously and hold my hand out for him to shake and seal our bargain. He smiles, reaches out for my hand and once his fingers wrap around mine, he yanks on me and pulls me into him, and his lips come crashing down on mine. I wrap myself around him, holding my body tight against his, and feeling a welcome sense of relief and content at finally having him here with me and getting to touch him again. I’ve really missed him.

“Oh, Ana…” He moans against my lips. “You have no idea how scared I was when I talked to Elliot at the airport. I thought I’d come back here and you’d be gone.”

“Christian, I told you…” I whisper back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I… Elliot told me that Sawyer had found an email confirmation for the flight I booked for Elena this week and showed it to you. He said you were upset… Ana, I didn’t see her. I wasn’t flying her out to see me, it was business related, I swear. I wasn’t even in New York when she got there…”

“I know,” I tell him and he raises an eyebrow at me.

“You do?”

“Harvard called me about an hour ago. I know you met with the president of the University to discuss the allegations and the investigation against me. I know you went and fought for me.”

“Oh,” He replies, and I lean back so that I can look him in they eyes properly.

“Why didn’t you tell me that was the meeting that had been rescheduled?”

“Well… usually you get so upset when you think I’m interfering with your education. I’d heard through some sources of mine that the interview we did last week didn’t have the effect on the investigation that we’d hoped and so I went to make a case for you. I didn’t know if that would make you angry so I didn’t tell you about it. I didn’t want to fight with you about it. Not when I knew what I was going to come home to.”

“What do you mean, come home to?”

“Taylor talked to Sawyer, and Sawyer told him that you’d run into Leila. He told me what she said to you…”

“He did?”

“Did you believe her?” Christian asks, and I can hear the hint of anger and hurt behind the tightness in his voice.

“No. I mean… it kind of freaked me out a little but Kate and Luke, they talked me down. Helped me think straight. I was fine until I talked to Elena…”

“You talked to Elena?” He interrupts me.

“Oh, uh… yeah. Kate and I ran into her at that sex shop…”

“Oh, yes.” He says, his voice hardening again. “The sex shop.”

“Christian…” I sigh, exasperatedly, “I’m sorry about that too, okay? I thought we were careful, I’ve been avoiding the paparazzi all week but somehow they still manage to get photos.” I frown as I remember what Luke said to me before he told me about the email he found in Elena’s inbox. Is she really the one who has been leaking photos of me to the press to try and drive a wedge between Christian and I? I hope that’s what Luke is doing right now…

“Why were you even there?” Christian asks, and it takes me a second to backtrack through the conversation and remember what he’s talking about.

“Oh, uh… well, I was kind of thinking that maybe I would, uh, surprise you. I really did enjoy last weekend in Montesano and I thought if we had some um… props…” My cheeks flush as I look up to make eye contact with Christian, and a smile creeps across his lips.

“Props?” He asks, amused, and I nod. “Well, as admirable as the thought behind the gesture was, I’d have preferred it if you had done your shopping online.”

“Yeah, I just… I don’t know, I’m kind of new with all of this stuff. I haven’t seen most of it before. I wanted to actually see it before I bought it.”

“Well then, maybe it’s something we can do together,” He suggests. “I think I might be a better resource for you than Kate given my experience.”

My face falls at his words and I can see the flash of regret in his eyes. “I don’t mean… I just… There hasn’t been anyone else, Anastasia, I swear to you.”

“So Leila is lying then?” I clarify. “And Isaac… Elena wasn’t bringing girls to you in your office at GEH?”

“Well… No,” He says, frowning. “There were girls… but that doesn’t mean that I fucked them, Ana. Elena was trying to help me move on from you, but I didn’t want to. She thought she could introduce me to some submissive that would catch my attention but it didn’t work. I wasn’t interested in even one of the girls she brought in. I’ve told you before, Ana. It’s only you, it’s only ever been you.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper when I pull away. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have let Leila get into my head like that. I shouldn’t let anyone make me doubt you. You deserve my trust, Christian. You have it.”

“I’m sorry too,” He says. “If I hadn’t shut you out while I was away, I could have told you this and… And this week wouldn’t have been so shitty.”

The remainder of his absence brings the one question I’m burning to ask to the forefront of my mind. “Why did you fly Elena out to New York?”

“My manufacturing division needs to expand to meet the demands of Grey Construction and the agriculture department. I’m about to start the process for a new acquisition…”

“Okay, so what does that have to do with Elena?”

“I’m buying Lincoln Timber. After his divorce, Linc had his company re-headquartered in New York. It’s one of the prospects I was looking into this week, and it looks good but I need to move quickly.”

My mouth pops open. “You mean, you’re buying her ex-husband’s company?”

“Yes. They’ve run into some financial difficulty because they lack the internal infrastructure to support the demands of the changing marketplace and they’re ripe for a takeover. Elena still has some contacts on the board of directors at Lincoln Timber and she’s going to help smooth over this transition.”

“I just… why does it have to be his company? There have to be other timber companies you could buy.”

“It’s the best option,” He says with a shrug.

“Did she tell you that?”

“No, Anastasia. I don’t seek out Elena Lincoln for advice. I’m perfectly capable of doing a competitive analysis on my own. Elena is an asset in this instance but she has nothing to do with my decision making. Once the purchase is complete, she’ll go back to the salons, and she won’t have anything to do with Lincoln Timber.”

I frown and he sighs. “It’s just business, Ana. His company is going to fold if I don’t intervene. I’m saving people’s jobs, including the people who work for GEH. Companies have to evolve to survive. This is what I do and sometimes it seems harsh, but it isn’t personal. If he was better at running his company, I wouldn’t be able to take it from him.”

“I guess I don’t know enough about it to argue with you so…” I say, my voice trailing off. His hands reach up and cup my cheeks so that he can turn my head and force me to look at him.

“I know you’re worried that this is her way of attaching herself to me, but it isn’t. It’s a coincidence that her ex husband happens to own the company I’m buying. I promise you, I’m not spending time with her, I’m not running to her. I don’t need her, Ana. I only need you.”

“Okay,” I nod and he leans up to kiss me.

“It’s late. Do you want to go to bed?”

“Yes,” I say quietly, and he shifts me off of him so he can pull the plug on the drain, and then he steps out of the tub and takes two towels out of the cupboard. Once he’s wrapped one securely around his waist, he holds one open for me and I stand so he can envelop me with it. I reach my face up for his once more, finding his lips with mine as he scoops me up into his arms and carries me off for the bed that, after this horrible week, is miraculously still ours.

Next Chapter

I feel a slight pounding in my head as I’m woken up the next morning by my phone vibrating on the bedside table. I want to groan because I’m sure it’s Christian calling to fight with me about last night, but because I know that I probably deserve his anger and because I don’t want to wake Kate sleeping in the bed next to me, I remain silent and roll out of bed, taking my phone with me as I shuffle off to the bathroom. When I look down to answer my phone though, I see that the vibration wasn’t an incoming call, not even a text or an email. It’s a Google Alert.

---

Google Alert: Christian Grey

TMZ, June 8th 2010: While Grey is Away, Ms. Steele Will Play. Remember last weekend when Seattle business owner and eternal heartthrob, Christian Grey, put the sexual harassment rumors to rest on national TV by proclaiming his love for intern and apparent girlfriend Anastasia Steele? Well, last night, Ms. Steele was spotted cozying up with a guy in a Seattle nightclub who, get this… wasn’t Mr. Grey. Was it all a lie, or does Anastasia Steele have some explaining to do?

---

I stare down in horror at the brief summary of the article for a minute before clicking on the headline and scanning through the text which claims to have exclusive pictures of me with another guy. Exclusive pictures? How? There weren’t any paparazzi!

I click on the photo album at the bottom of the page and then sort through the dark and somewhat grainy photos that look like they were taken from a cell phone in the club. There are a few of me in the booth with Kate which are innocent enough, but towards the end of the collection are photos of me standing outside the bathroom. In one of them, I’m wrapped in the arms of a guy whose face you can’t see, but who I know is Luke. I swipe to the next photo and feel my breath catch in my throat. I know that at this moment, he was whispering in my ear, reassuring me about Christian and his love for me after what Leila had said to me, but in the dimly lit, poor quality photo, it looks like he’s kissing me.

That’s what Christian is going to think when he sees this, and so without a second thought of recourse, I dial Christian’s number and hold the phone to my ear, feeling my stomach clench with dread at each drawn out ring. The fourth ring comes to an abrupt end and I wait through the half second of silence for his voice, preparing myself for both hurt and anger, but it’s not his voice that answers.

“You have reached the voicemail box…” The chipper robotic voice says into my ear and I pull the phone away and look down at the screen in disbelief. Four rings… definitely not enough to go to voicemail. He ignored my call.

Fuck. That isn’t a good sign.

“Hey…” I say, shakily, once I hear the beep. “It’s me, I uh… call me, okay? I miss you.” I hesitate for a minute, wondering if I should say something about the article in my message, but ultimately decide it isn’t a good idea. It’s 7:30 here, which means that it’s 10:30 in New York. There’s a good chance that I’m just being paranoid and he had to ignore my call because he’s in a meeting. If he hasn’t seen the article, I don’t want to bring it up and risk him not calling me back and giving me the chance to explain, or worse, calling Luke and firing him before he knows what really happened. After a long, awkward pause, I end the call and then glower down at the Google Alert still open on the screen of my phone. After our email exchange last night, this really isn’t how I want to start my morning with Christian.

“What time is it?” Kate moans in the bed behind me as she blindly reaches for her phone, which is charging on Christian’s nightstand.

“7:30,” I tell her. She groans and reaches over for my pillow which she pulls over her face to block out the early morning sunlight so she can go back to sleep. I walk to her side of the bed and pull the pillow away, and after she cringes away from the light, she pouts up at me.

“I need to take a shower and get ready for work,” I tell her. “Will you take my phone and, if Christian calls, tell him I’ll call him right back?”

“Sure,” She yawns, pulling the blanket up over her head. I frown and then turn the volume on the ringer all the way up before slipping the phone onto the nightstand next to her and dashing into the bathroom to take the fastest shower I’ve ever had in my life.

Thankfully, Christian doesn’t call while I’m in the shower because when I return to the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, Kate is once again dead to the world. I pick up my phone and take it back into the bathroom with me, watching it intently as I dry my hair and apply my makeup.

By the time Luke and I step into the elevator to leave for work, Christian still hasn’t called me back. I’m staring at my phone nervously as we make our descent to the parking garage, silently willing it to ring.

“He’s probably in a meeting, right?” I ask Luke as we pass the 14th floor. “I shouldn’t call him again because he’s probably in a meeting and he’s going to call me once he’s out.”

“Sure,” Luke shrugs, but I can tell just from his tone that he’s only placating me. Fuck, Luke probably knows exactly what’s going on because he’s probably talked to Taylor this morning.

“He’s mad at me, isn’t he? He’s ignoring my calls because he’s so pissed he doesn’t even want to talk to me?”

“I don’t know, Ana,” Luke replies and I narrow my eyes at him. He sighs and then looks down at the floor as he continues, “He’s not a patient person, Ana, and he prioritizes you above everything else. If he wanted to talk to you, he would have called you, or at the very least, he would have stepped out of a meeting to answer your call…”

I feel a deep sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. If that’s true, this is more than just anger over a night out drinking with Kate. If Luke is right, he’s seen the article about Luke and I, and he’s jumped to the conclusion I worried he would.

“Luke…” I begin, not really sure how I want to ask this. “Did you see the, uh, article on TMZ this morning with the pictures of us in the club last night?”

“Yeah, I saw it,” He replies shortly, still not looking at me.

“Did Christian see it?”

The doors open, cutting off Luke’s answer, and as we both look up, we see my Lincoln idling a few feet away from the elevator. The driver’s side door opens and Prescott steps out.

“Miss Steele,” She greets me. “I’ll be taking you to work today.”

“Yeah,” Luke says. “I think he’s seen it.”

He reaches out to hold the elevator doors open for me and, as I step onto the pavement of the garage, I watch him reach out for the button to take him upstairs again.

“Wait!” I exclaim, putting my foot out to stop the doors from closing. “This is all just a misunderstanding. As soon as I can speak with Christian, it’ll all be cleared up. You don’t have to go, Luke…”

“Miss Steele,” Prescott interrupts me. “Mr. Grey made it very clear that I was to take you into work today. Alone.”

I frown and turn to Luke, who gives me a tight, closed lip smile. “Go,” He says. “Have a good day. I’ll see you later.”

I step backwards, staring at him blankly as he reaches out for the button again and the doors close. When I turn around, Prescott pulls open the door to the backseat of the Lincoln for me, and I do my best to suppress a groan as I climb inside.

As we sit silently in the usual morning traffic that congests the streets of downtown Seattle, I find myself glancing down at my phone what feels like every five seconds, waiting for it to ring. Eventually, I can’t take it anymore and I dial his number once again. It rings twice.

“You have reached the voicemail box of…”

I hang up without leaving a message this time.

When we finally pull up outside my office, I take a deep, steeling breath, step out of the car and do my best to shield myself from the ever present flashing lights from the photographers who are now actively ruining my life. Prescott isn’t as good at keeping the paparazzi away from me as Luke is, and as they close in around us, it becomes difficult to wade through the crowd to the door.

“Miss Steele!” I hear one of the photographers yell, “Is it true that Mr. Grey has offered you $1 million to help him cover up his sex scandal?”

“Over here, Miss Steele! Is it true that Mr. Grey is demanding a paternity test to determine whether or not your unborn child is his?”

“Are you cheating on Mr. Grey with your bodyguard, Miss Steele?”

I stop just before I reach the door, knowing what I’m about to do is a bad idea, but I can’t stop myself. I turn around to face the photographers, pulling my jacket away from my face and looking purposefully into each of the eyes staring intently back at me.

“No, it’s not true. Christian hasn’t offered me money, I’m not pregnant, and I have not, nor will I ever, cheat on him. I love him. Now, please, leave my office.”

They all look back at me, shocked, for only a split second, and then the flashing lights start again and more questions are thrown at me. Prescott grabs onto my arm and I sigh with exasperation, turn around, and allow her to push me into the building.

The atmosphere is very different inside the building than it is just outside the door. SIP is amping up for a new publication that has everyone involved on the project really excited, and Boyce Fox, SIP’s number one selling author, sent us word yesterday that he’s finished his sophomore novel. With all the great things coming down the pipeline, everyone’s moods seem to be elevated and it shows. People smile at me as I pass, ask me how I’m doing this morning… it’s quite the change from the usual, almost eerie silence that normally grips this office. Unfortunately, today, I would have preferred to be left alone.

Brian greets me as I make my way into my office and I give him a weak smile but ultimately close the door behind me, trying to shut everyone out. I take a seat at my desk and immediately open my email, hoping there will be something there from Christian, but there isn’t. Not that I had been really all that hopeful. This same email address is synced to my iPhone. I have never been more hyper aware of my phone than I am in this minute and I haven’t had any notifications.

Why isn’t he calling me back?

Doing my best to push my concerns about Christian aside, I settle into my desk and pull up my calendar to see what I have scheduled for the day. A groan escapes my lips as I see the meeting with the heads of Christian’s Research and Development department that is scheduled for an hour from now, and that I don’t feel entirely prepared for. Now that we’ve tackled most of the operational issues at SIP, we’re moving into phase two of the implementation process, which is to create a new eBook division. I’d like to know as much as possible about the industry and trends in sales, specifically as they relate to genres, but with my packed meeting schedule over the last week and a half, I haven’t been able to do much research.

I open Google on my browser, resolved that I’m going to at least spend the next hour preparing what I can for this meeting, but as I click through different articles, my mind keeps drifting back to the completely silent phone resting a few inches away from my keyboard.

Ugh, maybe I should just email him.

I minimize the internet window open on my screen and pull up my email, but once I’ve put his address into the TO bar, I find myself staring at the blank screen at a loss for words. I don’t know what to say to him, or how to assuage his concerns because I don’t know what he’s thinking. I could send him a long explanation of what happened last night, of what was really going on in that photograph, but part of me thinks that would be a waste of time. I’m almost positive Luke has already relayed the story to Taylor in more detail that I could probably even remember after all the tequila, so I’m sure Christian knows what happened. The problem lies in whether or not he believes it and it’s hard to convey sincerity over email, especially since I have no idea if that’s even really the problem…

Besides, I want to talk to Christian. I didn’t get the chance to yesterday and he’s now been gone for more than one full day. I miss him… I hate that he’s not talking to me.

Ironic, right Steele?

Closing the pointless email open on my screen, I reach over, pick up my phone, and dial Christian’s number again.

“You have reached the voicemail box of…”

A dry ache begins to creep into my throat as I hear the robotic voice once more and so I hang up the phone and take a deep breath through my nose to compose myself. I don’t want to cry at work.

Twenty minutes later, Brian’s voice comes over the speaker of my desk phone, letting me know that Barney and Welch are here from GEH. I ask him to let them in and a minute later my door opens. They’re both very reserved and succinct, but extremely polite. It reminds me a lot of the way my father acts around people he doesn’t know and that makes me feel a little better as we move past the polite, yet forced chit chat, and onto business.

Thankfully, the lack of my usual over preparation for this meeting is moot because both Barney and Welch have done their own homework. We discuss industry trends and some of the things I’ve read about or talked about with Ros and Christian. They seem confident that we can have the technology needed for the new division programmed and in testing in only a few weeks.

“Well, GEH already has a business relationship with Amazon so I’m confident in our ability to manage and maintain cost effective distribution through Kindle, but what about Nook or iPad? Do you think it would be more beneficial for SIP to attempt to negotiate contracts with the major players in the eReader industry or is it more feasible to create our own app that can be downloaded onto any smartphone or Wi-Fi capable electronic device?” I ask.

“An app would be, I believe, most cost effective and would give us greater control over distribution and product security…” Welch says, and he glances at Barney as if he’s looking for reassurance.

“But..?” I press him.

“But, we had a better idea,” Barney finishes for him. “Currently, GEH’s technology and software development team is building a new tablet device that will be exclusive to GEH. We’re building some amazing, innovative features into the device and we were thinking that adding an eReader would really add value to the product.”

“You want to create our own eReader?” I clarify.

“Not exclusively, I do believe we’ll have to create an app that can be accessible on other devices, but by developing an eReader as a GEH product, you open yourself to the ability to do so much more than just distribution.”

“Such as?”

“Exclusive additional content from the author, perhaps. Sneak previews, early releases… plus, you can control the features. Our software development team is incredible, Miss Steele. Anything you could dream up to add, they could make happen.”

“Notes,” I say and he raises an eyebrow at me. “One of the reasons I hate Kindle is that I like to write notes in my books. I like to highlight or underline passages I think are really good or that I want to read again. You can’t do that on an eReader.”

“We could solve that,” Barney says. “We could even add a specialized stylus that can be housed in the device.”

“What about a feature that could read a book aloud?” I ask. “Is that possible?”

“You mean, having the device read the book aloud for you?”

“Yes.”

Barney looks to Welch who looks as though he’s thinking through all the possibilities in his mind as he decides how to answer. “I think we could do it…” He says. “In fact, we might even be able to do a read along function with audio and visual effects for children’s books. Like a sing along or a karaoke program. The words could be highlighted as the text is read aloud.”

“Like a tool to help kids learn how to read,” I say, smiling at the idea.

We talk for another thirty minutes, coming up with ideas for different features and I scribble each of them down so that I can send a proposal to Ros and Christian this afternoon. I’m not only extremely impressed by what the technology division of Christian’s company seems to be able to do, but also, excited by what we’ve come up with. By the time the meeting is over, I actually can’t wait to get my hands on this new device, and I hate eReaders.

When we’ve finished with the meeting, I thank them both for their time, shake each of their hands and promise to let them know when we have the go ahead. Brian sees them out of the office and once I’m alone again, I pull up my email once more and send the details of what we had discussed in a proposal to both Ros and Christian. I wait impatiently for a response, clicking refresh on my email every ten minutes as I try and tackle the mountain of other work I have for today, but nothing comes through. Hours pass, and still… nothing. I know that they’re both away on business so they’re probably working on other things, but because I also know Christian is also just not talking to me right now, I’m taking the silence very personally.

By five o’clock, I’ve given up hope that he’s going to respond to me, but as I pack up my things to leave for the day, I hear the sweet, overly-welcome ping from my email and a mixture of joy, elation, and relief grips me as I see Christian’s name.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: eReader

Date: June 8th 2010 05:03 PM

To: Anastasia Steele

I approve.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings INC

That’s it? That’s all I get. My hopes are crushed again as I look down at the two words that make up the entirety of his email. The only words I’ve heard from him all day…

This is ridiculous. With new determination, I reach down, pick up my phone and for the fourth time today, dial his number.

“You have reached the voicemail box…”

“Ah!” I yell in frustration as I end the call and stop myself from throwing my iPhone across the room.

When I make it back to Escala, I peek into the security office to see if Luke is there, but he isn’t. I wonder where Christian has sent him… My stomach tightens at the idea that maybe Christian called Luke himself to have him reassigned. I know it wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation, but at least he would get to talk to him. I haven’t even gotten that courtesy.

It’s not a good sign that I’m jealous of people getting yelled at by Christian.

I sigh and make my way into the great room where Kate is lounging on the sofa watching a rerun of Friends and sipping a Diet Coke through a straw.

“Hey,” She greets me, smiling. “You ready to go or do you want to eat dinner first? Elliot’s coming over tonight so I’d prefer it if we went sooner, rather than later.”

“Go?” I ask.

“Yeah… remember? You wanted to go and buy some tools for Christian’s trade.” She laughs but I’m not in the mood to joke about Christian right now. I’m not in the mood to do anything with Christian except figure out what I can do to make him answer my motherfucking phone calls.

“I don’t know, Kate…” I tell her. “I don’t think I’m in the mood to do that tonight.”

“Why?” She asks. “Did something happen at work?”

“No. It’s Christian… he’s not talking to me because of that TMZ article this morning. I think he might actually believe that I cheated on him…”

“But that’s ridiculous. Did you tell him what happened?”

“Oh, you’re right! Why didn’t I think of that?” I say, sarcastically. “He’s not answering my phone calls, Kate.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Well… did you call Ros or Taylor?”

“Oh… no,” I reply guiltily and she gives me a well-there-you-go kind of look. “I’m sure he knows what happened though. I can almost guarantee Taylor has talked to Luke.”

“Well, maybe he’s embarrassed, then,” Kate suggests.

“Christian? Why would Christian be embarrassed?”

“Because he overreacted. He got pissed off and then found out what happened and now he’s embarrassed about it. Or maybe he’s just pouting. Or maybe he’s just really busy. Whatever it is, he’ll get over it. He’s not going to be mad forever, but he is coming home tomorrow. So, if you want to go shopping without him being around it has to be tonight.”

I frown. Maybe she’s right… I mean, this is all just a huge misunderstanding. I know him and I know that him being so far away while all of this is happening is probably playing a huge role in what’s going on between us right now. It’s probably also doing a number on his control issues and so he’s latching onto everything around him that he can control, including the decision to not answer his phone. He will be home tomorrow, so even if I don’t hear from him for the rest of the night, I’ll get to talk to him about it when he gets back and we’ll move past it, just like we always do. It would really bother me if I missed my opportunity for his birthday surprise because of a stupid fight we were having over nothing…

“Okay,” I tell her. “Let me change and we can go.”

Kate smiles at me and I disappear into the bedroom, trading my black pencil skirt for a pair of jeans, and my button down, silk blouse for a slightly oversized t-shirt. When I’ve laced up my shoes and put my heels back in their place in Christian’s closet, I head back out to the living room and Kate and make our way down to the garage.

I’m very careful once we arrive outside the seedy looking storefront to look for any photographers lingering around, waiting for a shot of me walking into a sex shop. Thankfully though, the parking lot is mostly deserted, except for a few other shoppers who don’t look like they want to be recognized here anymore than I do. I stay close to Kate, holding onto her so I can keep my face down as we walk across the asphalt lot and into store, and once the doors close behind us, I feel a welcome sense of ease. It’s uncomfortable how much my fear of having photographers jumping out and snapping pictures of me to upload all over the internet reminds me of what it felt like when we were dealing with Kate’s stalker back in our freshman year of college…

“Uh… let’s try back here,” Kate says, standing on her tiptoes so she can see over the displays at the front of the store, which are overloaded with pink sashes with the word bachelorette scrawled across them in glitter, and other assorted penis themed memorabilia. I’m actually surprised by how big the store is. I had kind of imagined a dark, dingy room filled with all kinds of weird sex things on display. In reality, it’s set up kind of like a cleaner, better organized thrift store. There is lingerie on display to our right, aisles and aisles of different kinds of sex toys in the center, and against the left wall there are dozens of bulk bins, which are slightly reminiscent of the kind you find in a candy store, filled with different colors and flavors of condoms.

Kate takes my hand and leads me past a room filled with porn DVDs to a section made up of a lot of items I don’t really recognize, and several I’m not sure I want to…

“Okay… What are we looking for?” Kate asks, and I shrug.

“I honestly have no idea,” I reply.

“Well then, let’s just get everything that doesn’t look terrifying,” She says, and I laugh. I’m glad I brought her with me. I would have never had the courage to do this on my own. We start looking through the different items displayed on the shelf, and it isn’t long before we have to pull out our phones to google what some of the instruments are used for. I find myself cringing at a lot of the pictures and videos that come up, but not all of them. There is a small section of floggers hanging from hooks on the wall, and so I pull one down to examine, running my finger through the leather straps and trying to decide how much it would hurt to get hit with something like this.

“What do you think this is?” Kate asks, and I turn to look at the wide metal ring in her hands that has, what looks like, six clothespins hanging from short black strings in a star like pattern in the center.

“I have no idea…” I reply, wrinkling my nose as I try to imagine what you would do with the clothespins. “But it looks gnarly.”

“It’s a vaginal spreader. Quite effective but also, quite painful,” A very unwelcome voice says behind me and when Kate looks over her shoulder and immediately tenses, she confirms my fear as to who it is and I feel my blood run cold. I turn to face her and when I see the young, blonde haired man standing at her side, I feel a wave of nausea.

“What are you doing here?” Kate asks, her voice cold and almost vicious as she glares at Elena.

“Oh, there were just a few things I needed to pick up,” Elena replies with a smile. “I was actually wondering the same about you but… well, I suppose I could probably guess.” She turns to look at me, her eyes almost twinkling with her satisfaction to have caught me here, but I can’t bring myself to respond or to even look back at her. The only thing I can focus on is the young man standing next to her, staring silently down at the ground, the thought that this was once Christian replaying in my mind over and over again.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners?” Elena says when she notices me staring. “Ana, this is Isaac, Isaac, this is Anastasia Steele.”

He doesn’t move and Elena lets out a low approving sound, her smile widening as she continues. “You may speak, Isaac,” She says. His head shoots up immediately and he reaches his hand out for mine.

“Pleased to meet you,” He says politely. I hesitate for a minute, looking down at his outstretched hand, but I can’t bring myself to shake it.

“H-how old are you?” I stutter and he frowns.

“Twenty-one,” He responds, and I know that I should feel at least a small amount of relief that, this one at least, isn’t underage, but I don’t, and the reason I don’t comes unbidden out of my mouth.

“The same age as Christian,” I whisper and he raises an eyebrow at me.

“Mr. Grey?” He asks, “Are you one of his?”

I freeze, and I feel Kate have the same reaction next to me. Suddenly, my concern with his age falls completely out of my mind. “What?” I ask. “What do you mean, one of his?”

“Isaac,” Elena says sharply and his head immediately shoots down towards the ground again. “Anastasia is Mr. Grey’s… girlfriend. ” She says the word with disdain. “But that is none of your business.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Isaac replies, and I don’t know what is more overpowering for me at the moment… to say something to try and save this boy from whatever punishment or abuse his little slip has earned him, or what his actual slip implies. One of his… One of Christian’s. Does that mean that Leila was telling the truth?

“You need to leave,” Kate spits at Elena, but she just smiles back at her before turning to Isaac.

“Go wait in the car for me,” She instructs him. He turns and immediately begins walking for the front door. Elena turns back to face Kate and I, her eyes skimming the leather flogger I’m still gripping tightly in my hands, and she smirks, reaches for the wall behind me and pulls down a different flogger with wider, thicker straps.

“You should try this one, Anastasia,” She says with a smirk. “It’s Christian’s favorite.”

My whole body gets hot as I feel Kate grip me by the upper arms and push me away from Elena, dragging me to a different part of the store so that we’re no longer in her line of sight.

“Ana, ignore her,” Kate tells me. “She’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Remember, she wants to drive you and Christian apart.”

“You heard what he said…” I say quietly. My mind is flooded with images of Christian standing in a room like the one I remember seeing in the photos that Mr. Lincoln had taken to be used as evidence in the trial, and whipping a girl I picture as looking almost exactly like Leila, with the flogger in my hands. I can see her face twisting with agony as he rains it over her again and again, and as the horrible image morphs, and the girl becomes Christian and it’s Elena holding the whip, the flogger falls out of my hands, onto the floor, and my breath turns to gasps full of fear and pain.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Kate says, not bothering to pick the flogger up off the ground as she steers me through the aisles towards the exit. I try and pull myself together, once again knowing I have to be conscious of my surroundings once we’re outside of the building. Thankfully, it doesn’t look as though any photographers have shown up since we entered the store, so we’re able to make it to the car and back to Escala without incident.

When we step out of the elevator and into the foyer back at the apartment, I tell Kate I’m going to bed, and she doesn’t protest or do anything to stop me. In my room, I draw the curtains on the windows closed to block out the sunlight and then crawl into bed without taking my clothes off. I honestly don’t know what I’m feeling right now. I mean, I can justify Leila lying, that’s not even difficult, but what Isaac said was completely unprovoked. Why would he lie? Because of Elena? But then… does that mean that Elena and Leila are scheming together? That seems like a lot of work for a stupid story that only works if they’re able to get me alone, in public, away from Christian… Although, it has happened… twice. Maybe it’s not a coincidence. Are they following me?

Jesus, I sound like a crazy person. I take a few deep breaths and try to clear my mind. I’m so confused, I can’t even get a gut reaction for what I believe is true anymore… I need to talk to Christian. I feel blindly over the comforter of the bed for the phone I know I left abandoned somewhere here, but before I find it, Kate knocks on the door and then eases it open to let herself in.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“I don’t know…” I tell her honestly. “I’m so confused, Kate.”

She sits on the bed next to me and takes my hand in hers. “Well, we talked about this last night and you didn’t believe it when it came from Leila. Is it more credible coming from Elena?”

“It didn’t come from Elena,” I say emphatically, but she shakes her head.

“He’s a submissive, Ana. He only does what he’s told. I think that it’s safe to assume that anything that comes out of his mouth, comes from Elena.”

“I don’t know, Kate. After he said it, he looked at her like he made a mistake, I don’t think he was supposed to say that.”

“Okay…” Kate agrees. “Maybe she didn’t tell him to say it. But, I still don’t believe it. I mean, Ana, if he was getting submissives from her, why would she hide that from you? She wants you to leave him and she knows that if you found out, that’s exactly what you would do. I think that if it were true, she’d tell you, flat out. She’d paint it on a billboard outside your window or hire a skywriter. Christian’s not even in town, this would have been the perfect opportunity to expose him and have you slip quietly away without him being able to do anything to stop you.”

I ponder her words for a moment… I mean, she does make a good point. Why would Elena bother covering for him, even if it was only a lie of omission? She doesn’t gain anything from not telling me because the only way she can win is if I leave him. Sure, he might get mad at her if he finds out that I found out from her, but that’s happened before and it didn’t stop her from worming her way back into his life last time. And she knows that something like that would hurt me, and she wants to hurt me. No, I don’t think she would cover something like this up. Not to me.

“But… then why would Isaac say it?” I ask aloud.

“I mean, you were in a BDSM sex shop, holding a flogger… and you did say Christian’s name. He’s a submissive, maybe he just assumed.”

“Maybe,” I say, nodding.

“Are you still worried about this because of what you two did last weekend?” She asks and I shrug.

“Kind of. Look, I enjoyed it, and I’m fine with the fact that I enjoyed it, but I keep thinking about how… good he was at it.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“Practice makes perfect, Kate.”

“That’s ridiculous, Ana. Him being good at having sex with you has nothing to do with anyone else.” Kate says and I look at her skeptically, so she takes a deep breath and continues. “Okay, do you remember Craig?”

“The guy you dated before Elliot?”

“Yeah. Well, there was this thing that he liked to have me to do him while we were having sex, and I mean, he really liked it. It was kind of my go to move for a long time.”

“So?”

“So, then I started dating Elliot and when I tried to do it to him, he hated it. He freaked out and made me swear I would never do it ever again. Just because you do something that works with one person, doesn’t mean it’s going to work for everyone. You have to find out what the partner you’re with likes, what they don’t like… From what you’ve told me, Christian knows what you like and he’s very aware of you when you’re together. Even if he ties you up or whatever, it doesn’t mean that he’s having sex with you the way he had sex with Elena. You’re a different person, with different desires and you do something completely different with him than what he did with Elena, even if parts of it look the same. He’s good at this because he knows you, not because he knows… how to tie knots.”

“How to tie knots?” I repeat with a short laugh.

“I don’t know… all you’ve told me is that he tied you up. There’s not really much to know about that. And quite frankly, I wouldn’t be convinced that all of that knowledge came from Elena. You two were apart for two years. I bet if you got a hold of his browser history, you’d see that he’d done plenty of “research” in that time.” She says, putting air quotes around the word research. “Internet videos can be very educational,” She laughs and I smack her on the arm, but can’t stop myself from laughing too.

Again, I have to admit that she’s right. What Christian and I have has nothing to do with anyone else. I mean, it’s not like I can kiss him well because I used to kiss Carter… We’re good together because we love each other and we care about each other and about pleasing each other. He loves me. I know that he does, so I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to believe him when he tells me there hasn’t been anyone else. He’s the person I should trust, not Leila Williams and certainly not Elena Lincoln.

“Thanks, Kate. You’re a really good friend,” I say gratefully.

“Uh uh…” She says with a broad smile. “The best friend.”

I laugh as her phone buzzes and she reaches down to pick it up. When she looks down at the screen, she frowns. “What, is Elliot not coming over after all?” I ask.

“It’s not Elliot…” She says and immediately, I’m on my guard again.

“What?” I ask, dread coursing through me. She holds out her phone.

Google Alert: Anastasia Steele

TMZ, June 8th 2010: The Wild Side of Anastasia Steele. Check out the exclusive pictures of Christian Grey’s girlfriend leaving a Seattle sex shop this afternoon. The question is, was she purchasing something for her hot, CEO boyfriend, or the new mystery man she was photographed with the other night?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groan as I throw the phone back down on the bed. “How did this happen? There weren’t any photographers around. We checked!”

“I don’t know…” Kate replies. “Maybe it wasn’t a photographer. I mean, everyone has camera phones. There weren’t paparazzi at the club the other night either and someone still got a picture of you then.”

“So what, I have to worry about every human being around me selling pictures of me now?” I ask and Kate looks down at her phone again, unwilling to make eye contact with me, probably because there is nothing she can say to make it better.

“How long have you had that Google Alert set?” I ask her. “I didn’t even know I had one.”

“Since your name leaked to the press during the whole Leila thing,” Kate says. “Don’t worry, it’s usually just pictures of you outside your office or in your car. You’re really not that exciting.”

“Except for when you’re around,” I roll my eyes. “Don’t be surprised if Christian doesn’t want me hanging out with you anymore. You’re the one who keeps coming up with all these ideas that get me into trouble.”

“Maybe I’m the one selling the photos,” Kate says, with a joking smile but I glare at her.

“That’s not funny,” I snap, and because now she’s put it out there, I stare at her expectantly, waiting for her to deny it.

“Ana, it’s not me,” She says, exasperatedly. “I’m in half of these photos with you, how could I take them?”

I let out a frustrated sigh and then feel my body tense as I hear my ringtone sound from my phone lost somewhere in the bed. My hands begin to frantically dig through the comforter until they grip onto the hard, cold glass around my iPhone. I look down and see Christian’s name displayed in bold, illuminated typeface across the screen.

Fuck, of course he would call me now…

“Hello?” I answer.

“A sex shop?” He responds, his voice tight with anger as he practically growls at me over the phone.

“It’s not what you think, Christian,” I say defensively.

“You mean you weren’t at a sex shop, because you’ll have to understand why I’d have difficulty believing that, Anastasia.”

“No, I was there but…”

“But nothing, Anastasia,” He interrupts me. “I am on a business trip right now, I am meeting with very important business contacts and potential clients. We are on the tail end of a sex scandal, how do you think it looks having my name all over the internet right now accompanying pictures of the woman we announced on national television as my girlfriend to put allegations of sexual harassment to bed in clubs with other men and leaving sex shops?”

“So what, I’m embarrassing you?” I ask, my own anger flaring now.

“Quite frankly, yes. You are.” His words are hard, and icy, and they hit me like a slap to the face.

“Well, I’m sorry that I can’t be perfect for you, Christian Grey.”

“Oh please, Anastasia. Don’t try to turn this around on me. You’re an adult, I shouldn’t have to be around all the time to babysit you and keep you from making stupid fucking decisions.”

“Stupid?” I repeat.

“Stupid,” He reaffirms. “I will be home tomorrow and until I return, you are not to leave the apartment. You can work from home tomorrow.”

“You can’t ground me, Christian. I’m not a child.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

The phone goes dead and I look down at it incredulously. He hung up on me? Is he serious right now?

“What happened?” Kate asks.

“He…” I stop, not even knowing to articulate what just occurred. I throw the phone down onto the mattress and bury my face in my hands. He’s acting like I’m purposefully being negligent. I was careful, I did everything I knew to do to protect him and myself, but none of it seems to work. The answer can’t be to keep me locked in this apartment… I can’t stay here, hidden away from the world forever.

“Kate! Ana!” I hear Elliot’s voice echo from the living room and Kate looks nervously over her shoulder at the door, and then back at me.

“Go, I’m fine,” I tell her. “I’m probably going to go to bed early tonight. This has all been exhausting.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug and then leans back to look at me, testing me one last time before she gets up and heads out the door. I reach under the blanket and pull my jeans off, throwing them carelessly across the room, and then stare up at the dark ceiling. Christian has never talked to me like that before and I really don’t like it. Maybe I should call him back and see if we can have a rational conversation… one without the yelling and the hurtful words.

I pick up my phone and dial his number, but once again the phone rings twice and I’m greeted with, You have reached the voicemail box of…

I heave a sigh of frustration and throw my phone back onto the bed, almost wishing I could throw it against the wall because I think that watching it shatter on impact would be oddly satisfying right now.

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