Part II 14

I close my eyes.Reluctantly, I open my hea一vy eyelids and bright lightfills the room. I groan. I feel cloudy, disconnected from myleaden limbs, and Christian is wrapped around me like ivy.I’m too warm as per usual. Surely it’s just five in themorning. The alarm has not gone off yet. I stretch out tofree myself from his heat, turning in his arms, and hemumbles something unintelligible in his sleep. I glance atthe clock. Eight forty-five.Shit, I’m going to be late. Fuck. I scramble out of bedand dash to the bathroom. I am showered and out withinfour minutes.Christian sits up in bed watching me with ill-concealedamusement coupled with wariness as I continue to dryamusement coupled with wariness as I continue to drymyself while gathering my clothes. Perhaps he’s waiting forme to react to yesterday’s revelations. Right now, I justdon’t ha一ve time.I check my clothes—black slacks, black shirt—all abit Mrs. R, but I don’t ha一ve a second to change my mind.I hastily don black bra and panties, conscious that he’swatching my every move. It’s . . . unnerving. The pantiesand bra will do.“You look good,” Christian purrs from the bed. “Youcan call in sick, you know.” He gives me his devastating,lopsided, one hundred and fifty percent panty-bustingsmile. Oh, he’s so tempting. My inner goddess poutsprovocatively at me.“No, Christian, I can’t. I am not a megalomaniac CEOwith a beautiful smile who can come and go as hepleases.”“I like to come as I please.” He smirks and cranks hisglorious smile up another notch so it’s in full HD IMAX.“Christian!” I scold. I throw my towel at him and helaughs.“Beautiful smile, huh?”“Yes. You know the effect you ha一ve on me.” I put onmy watch.“Do I?” he blinks innocently.“Yes, you do. The same effect you ha一ve on all women.Gets really tiresome watching them all swoon.”“Does it?” He cocks his eyebrow at me, more amused.“Don’t play the innocent, Mr. Grey, it really doesn’tsuit you,” I mutter distractedly as I scoop my hair into asuit you,” I mutter distractedly as I scoop my hair into aponytail and pull on my black high-heeled shoes. There,that will do.When I bend to kiss him good-bye, he grabs me andpulls me down onto the bed, leaning over me and smilingfrom ear to ear. Oh my. He’s so beautiful—eyes brightwith mischief, floppy just-fucked-again hair, that dazzlingsmile. Now he’s playful.I’m tired, still reeling from all the disclosures ofyesterday, while he’s bright as a button and sexy as fuck.Oh, exasperating Fifty.“What can I do to tempt you to stay?” he says softly,and my heart skips a beat and begins to pound. He istemptation personified.“You can’t,” I grumble, struggling to sit back up. “Letme go.”He pouts and I give up. Grinning, I trace my fingersover his sculptured lips—my Fifty Shades. I love him so inall his monumental fuckedupness. I ha一ven’t even begun toprocess yesterday’s events and how I feel about them.I lean up to kiss him, thankful that I ha一ve brushed myteeth. He kisses me long and hard and then swiftly sets meon my feet, lea一ving me dazed, breathless, and slightlywobbly.“Taylor will take you. Quicker than finding somewhereto park. He’s waiting outside the building,” Christian sayskindly, and he seems relieved. Is he worried about myreaction this morning? Surely last night—er, this morning—proved that I am not going to run.“Okay. Thank you,” I mutter, disappointed that I am“Okay. Thank you,” I mutter, disappointed that I amupright on my feet, confused by his hesitancy, and vaguelyirritated that once again I won’t be driving my Saab. Buthe’s right, of course—it will be quicker with Taylor.“Enjoy your lazy morning, Mr. Grey. I wish I couldstay, but the man who owns the company I work forwould not approve of his staff ditching just for hot sex.” Igrab my purse.“Personally, Miss Steele, I ha一ve no doub一t that hewould approve. In fact he might insist on it.”“Why are you staying in bed? It’s not like you.”He folds his hands behind his head and grins at me.“Because I can, Miss Steele.”I shake my head at him. “Laters, baby.” I blow him akiss, and I am out of the door.Taylor is waiting for me, and he seems to understand that Iam late because he drives like a bat out of hell to get me towork by nine fifteen. I am grateful when he pulls up at thecurb—grateful to be alive–his driving was scary. Andgrateful that I am not hideously late—only fifteen minutes.“Thank you, Taylor,” I mutter, ashen-faced. Iremember Christian telling me he drove tanks; maybe hedrives for NASC一A一R, too.“Ana.” He nods a farewell, and I dash into my office,realizing as I open the door to reception that Taylor seemsto ha一ve overcome the Miss Steele formality. It makes mesmile.Claire grins at me as I rush through reception andmake my way to my desk.“Ana!” Jack calls me. “Get in here.”Oh shit.“What time do you call this?” he snaps.“I’m sorry. I overslept.” I flush crimson.“Don’t let it happen again. Fix me some coffee, andthen I need you to do some letters. Jump to it,” he shouts,making me flinch.Why’s he so mad? What’s his problem? What ha一ve Idone? I hurry to the kitchen to fix his coffee. Maybe Ishould ha一ve ditched. I could be . . . well, doing somethinghot with Christian, or ha一ving breakfast with him, or justtalking—that would be novel.Jack barely acknowledges my presence when Iventure back into his office to deliver his coffee. He thrustsa sheet of paper at me—it’s handwritten in a barely legiblescrawl.“Type this up, ha一ve me sign, then copy and mail it to allour authors.”“Yes, Jack.”He doesn’t look up as I lea一ve. Boy, is he mad.It is with some relief that I finally sit down at my desk. Itake a sip of tea as I wait for my computer to boot up. Icheck my e-mails.From: Christian GreySubject: Missing youDate: June 15, 2011 09:05To: Anastasia SteelePlease use your Blackberry.xChristian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: All Right for SomeDate: June 15, 2011 09:27To: Christian GreyMy boss is mad.I blame you for keeping me up late with your . . . shenanigans.You should be ashamed of yourself.Anastasia SteeleAssistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIPFrom: Christian GreySubject: Shenaniwhatagans?Date: June 15, 2011 09:32To: Anastasia SteeleTo: Anastasia SteeleYou don’t ha一ve to work, Anastasia.You ha一ve no idea how appalled I am at my shenanigans.But I like keeping you up late ;)Please use your Blackberry.Oh, and marry me, please.Christian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: Living to makeDate: June 15, 2011 09:35To: Christian GreyI know your natural inclination is toward nagging, but just stop.I need to talk to your shrink.Only then will I give you my answer.I am not opposed to living in sin.Anastasia SteeleAssistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIPFrom: Christian GreySubject: BLACKBERRYSubject: BLACKBERRYDate: June 15, 2011 09:40To: Anastasia SteeleAnastasia, if you are going to start discussing Dr. Flynn then USEYOUR BLACKBERRY.This is not a request.Christian Grey,Now Pissed CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.Oh shit. Now he’s mad at me, too. Well, he can stew forall I care. I take my Blackberry out of my purse and eye itwith skepticism. As I do, it starts ringing. Can’t he lea一veme alone?“Yes,” I snap.“Ana, hi—”“José! How are you?” Oh, it’s good to hear his voice.“I’m fine, Ana. Look, are you still seeing that Greyguy?”“Er—yes . . . Why?” Where is he going with this?“Well, he’s bought all your photos, and I thought Icould deliver them up to Seattle. The exhibition closesThursday, so I could bring them up Friday evening anddrop them off, you know. And maybe we could catch adrink or something. Actually, I was hoping for a place tocrash, too.”“José, that’s cool. Yeah, I’m sure we could worksomething out. Let me talk to Christian and call you back,something out. Let me talk to Christian and call you back,okay?”“Cool, I’ll wait to hear from you. Bye, Ana.”“Bye.” And he’s gone.Holy cow. I ha一ven’t seen or heard from José since hisshow. I didn’t even ask him how it went or if he sold anymore pictures. Some friend I am.So, I could spend the evening with José on Friday.How will Christian like that? I become aware that I ambiting my lip till it hurts. Oh, that man has doublestandards. He can—I shudder at the thought—bathe hisbatshit ex-lover, but I will probably get a truckload of grieffor wanting to ha一ve a drink with José. How am I going tohandle this?“Ana!” Jack pulls me abruptly out of my reverie. Is hestill mad? “Where’s that letter?”“Er—coming.” Shit. What is eating him?I type up his letter in double-quick time, print it out,and nervously make my way into his office.“Here you go.” I place it on his desk and turn to lea一ve.Jack quickly casts his critical, piercing, eyes over it.“I don’t know what you’re doing out there, but I payyou to work,” he barks.“I’m aware of that, Jack,” I mutter apologetically. I feela slow flush creep up my skin.“This is full of mistakes,” he snaps. “Do it again.”Fuck. He’s beginning to sound like someone I know,but rudeness from Christian I can tolerate. Jack isbeginning to piss me off.“And get me another coffee while you’re at it.”“And get me another coffee while you’re at it.”“Sorry,” I whisper and scurry out of his office asquickly as I can.Holy fuck. He’s being unbearable. I sit back down atmy desk, hastily redo his letter, which had two mistakes init, and check it thoroughly before printing. Now it’sperfect. I fetch him another coffee, letting Claire know witha roll of my eyes that I am in deep doo-doo. Taking adeep breath, I approach his office again.“Better,” he mumbles reluctantly as he signs the letter.“Photocopy it, file the original, and mail out to all authors.Understand?”“Yes.” I am not an idiot. “Jack, is there somethingwrong?”He glances up, his blue eyes darkening as his gaze runsup and down my body. My blood chills.“No.” His answer is concise, rude, and dismissive. Istand there like the idiot I professed not to be and thenshuffle back out of his office. Perhaps he too suffers from apersonality disorder. Sheesh, I’m surrounded by them. Imake my way to the photocopier—which of course issuffering from a paper jam—and when I’ve fixed it, I findit’s out of paper. This is not my day.When I am finally back at my desk, stuffing envelopes,my Blackberry buzzes. I can see through the glass wall thatJack is on the phone. I answer—it’s Ethan.“Hi, Ana. How’d it go last night?”Last night. A quick montage of images flashes throughmy mind—Christian kneeling, his revelation, his proposal,macaroni and cheese, my weeping, his nightmare, the sex,touching him . . .“Eh . . . fine,” I mutter unconvincingly.Ethan pauses and decides to collude in my denial.“Cool. Can I collect the keys?”“Sure.”“I’ll be over in about half an hour. Will you ha一ve timeto grab a coffee?”“Not today. I was late getting in, and my boss is like anangry bear with a sore head and poison ivy up his ass.”“Sounds nasty.”“Nasty and ugly.” I giggle.Ethan laughs and my mood lifts a little. “Okay. See youin thirty.” He hangs up.I glance up at Jack and he’s staring at me. Oh shit. Istudiously ignore him and continue to stuff envelopes.Half an hour later my phone buzzes. It’s Claire. “He’shere again, in reception. The blond god.”Ethan is a joy to see after all the angst of yesterday andthe bad temper my boss is inflicting on me today, but alltoo soon, he’s saying his good-byes.“Will I see you this evening?”“I’ll probably stay with Christian.” I flush.“You ha一ve got it bad,” Ethan observes goodnaturedly.I shrug. That’s not the half of it, and in that moment Irealize, I ha一ve it more than bad. I ha一ve it for life. Andamazingly, Christian seems to feel the same. Ethan givesme a swift hug.“Laters, Ana.”I return to my desk, wrestling with my realization. Oh,what I would do for a day on my own, to just think all thisthrough.“Where ha一ve you been?” Jack is suddenly loomingover me.“I had some business to attend to in reception.” He isreally getting on my nerves.“I want my lunch. The usual,” he says abruptly andstomps back into his office.Why didn’t I stay home with Christian? My innergoddess crosses her arms and purses her lips; she wantsto know the answer to that one, too. Picking up my purseand my Blackberry, I head for the door. I check mymessages.From: Christian GreySubject: Missing youDate: June 15, 2011 09:06To: Anastasia SteeleMy bed is too big without you.Looks like I’ll ha一ve to go to work after all.Even megalomaniac CEOs need something to do.xChristian GreyTwiddling His Thumbs CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.And there’s another from him, from earlier this morning.From: Christian GreySubject: DiscretionDate: June 15, 2011 09:50To: Anastasia SteeleIs the better part of valor.Please use discretion . . . your work e-mails are monitored.HOW MANY TIMES DO I HA一VE TO TELL YOU THIS?Yes. Shouty capitals as you say. USE YOUR BLACKBERRY.Dr. Flynn can see us tomorrow evening.xChristian Grey,Still Pissed CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.And an even later one . . . Oh no.From: Christian GreySubject: CricketsDate: June 15, 2011 12:15To: Anastasia SteeleTo: Anastasia SteeleI ha一ven’t heard from you.Please tell me you are okay.You know how I worry.I will send Taylor to check!xChristian Grey,Over-Anxious CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.I roll my eyes, and call him. I don’t want him to worry.“Christian Grey’s phone, Andrea Parker speaking.”Oh. I am so disconcerted that it’s not Christian whoanswers that it halts me in the street, and the young manbehind me mutters angrily as he swerves to a一void bumpinginto me. I stand under the green awning of the deli.“Hello? Can I help you?” Andrea fills the void ofawkward silence.“Sorry . . . Er . . . I was hoping to speak to Christian—”“Mr. Grey is in a meeting at the moment.” She bristleswith efficiency. “Can I take a message?”“Can you tell him Ana called?”“Ana? As in Anastasia Steele?”“Er . . . Yes.” Her question confuses me.“Hold one second please, Miss Steele.”I listen attentively as she puts the phone down, but Ican’t tell what’s going on. A few seconds later Christian ison the line. “Are you okay?”on the line. “Are you okay?”“Yes, I’m fine.”I hear the quick release of his held breath. He’srelieved.“Christian, why wouldn’t I be okay?” I whisperreassuringly.“You’re normally so quick at responding to my emails.After what I told you yesterday, I was worried,” hesays quietly, and then he’s talking to someone in his office.“No, Andrea. Tell them to wait,” he says sternly. Oh, Iknow that tone of voice.I can’t hear Andrea’s response.“No. I said wait,” he snaps.“Christian, you’re obviously busy. I only called to letyou know that I’m okay, and I mean that—just very busytoday. Jack has been cracking the whip. Er . . . Imean . . .” I flush and fall silent.Christian says nothing for a moment.“Cracking the whip, eh? Well, there was a time when Iwould ha一ve called him a lucky man.” His voice is full of dryhumor. “Don’t let him get on top of you, baby.”“Christian!” I scold him and I know he’s grinning.“Just watch him, that’s all. Look, I’m glad you’reokay. What time shall I collect you?”“I’ll e-mail you.”“From your Blackberry,” he says sternly.“Yes, Sir,” I snap back.“Laters, baby.”“Bye . . .”He’s still hanging on.“Hang up,” I scold, smiling.He sighs hea一vily down the phone. “I wish you’d nevergone to work this morning.”“Me, too. But I am busy. Hang up.”“You hang up.” I hear his smile. Oh, playful Christian. Ilove playful Christian. Hmm . . . I love Christian, period.“We’ve been here before.”“You’re biting your lip.”Shit, he’s right. How does he know?“You see, you think I don’t know you, Anastasia. ButI know you better than you think,” he murmurs seductivelyin that way that makes me weak, and wet.“Christian, I’ll talk to you later. Right now, I really wishI hadn’t left this morning, too.”“I’ll wait for your e-mail, Miss Steele.”“Good day, Mr. Grey.”Hanging up, I lean against the cold, hard glass of thedeli store window. Oh my, even on the phone he ownsme. Shaking my head to clear it of all thoughts Grey, Ihead into the deli, depressed by all thoughts Jack.He is scowling when I get back.“Is it okay if I take my lunch now?” I ask tentatively.He gazes up at me and his scowl deepens.“If you must,” he snaps. “Forty-five minutes. Make upthe time you lost this morning.”“Jack, can I ask you something?”“What?”“You seem, kind of out of sorts today. Ha一ve I donesomething to offend you?”He blinks at me momentarily. “I don’t think I’m in themood to list your misdemeanors right now. I’m busy.” Hecontinues to stare at his computer screen, effectivelydismissing me.Whoa . . . What ha一ve I done?I turn and lea一ve his office, and for a moment I think I’mgoing to cry. Why has he taken such a sudden and intensedislike to me? A very unwelcome idea pops into my head,but I ignore it. I don’t need his shit right now—I ha一veenough of my own.I head out of the building to the nearby Starbucks,order a latte, and sit down in the window. Taking my iPodfrom my purse, I plug my headphones in. I choose a songhaphazardly and press repeat so it will play over and overagain. I need music to think by.My mind drifts. Christian the sadist. Christian thesubmissive. Christian the untouchable. Christian’s oedipalimpulses. Christian bathing Leila. I groan and close myeyes while that last image haunts me.Can I really marry this man? He’s so much to take in.He’s complex and difficult, but deep down I know I don’twant to lea一ve him despite all his issues. I could never lea一vehim. I love him. It would be like cutting off my right arm.Right now, I ha一ve never felt so alive, so vital. I’veencountered all manner of perplexing, profound feelingsand new experiences since I met him. It’s never a dulland new experiences since I met him. It’s never a dullmoment with Fifty.Looking back on my life before Christian, it’s as ifeverything was in black and white like José’s pictures.Now my whole world is in rich, bright, saturated color. Iam soaring in a beam of dazzling light, Christian’s dazzlinglight. I am still Icarus, flying too close to his sun. I snort tomyself. Flying with Christian—who can resist a man whocan fly?Can I give him up? Do I want to give him up? It’s as ifhe’s flipped a switch and lit me up from within. It’s beenan education knowing him. I ha一ve discovered more aboutmyself in the last few weeks than ever before. I’ve learnedabout my body, my hard limits, my soft limits, mytolerance, my patience, my compassion, and my capacityfor love.And it strikes me like a thunderbolt—that’s what heneeds from me, what he’s entitled to—unconditional love.He never received it from the crack whore—it’s what heneeds. Can I love him unconditionally? Can I accept himfor who he is regardless of his revelations last night?I know he’s damaged, but I don’t think he’sirredeemable. I sigh, recalling Taylor’s words. “He’s agood man, Miss Steele.”I’ve seen the weighty evidence of his goodness—hischarity work, his business ethics, his generosity—and yethe doesn’t see it in himself. He doesn’t feel deserving ofany love. Given his history and his predilections, I ha一ve aninkling of his self-loathing—that’s why he’s never letanyone in. Can I get past this?anyone in. Can I get past this?He said once that I couldn’t begin to understand thedepths of his depra一vity. Well, he’s told me now, and giventhe first few years of his life, it doesn’t surprise me. Thoughit was still a shock to hear it out loud. At least he’s told me—and he seems happier now that he has. I knoweverything.Does it devalue his love for me? No, I don’t think so.He’s never felt this way before and neither ha一ve I. In truthwe’ve both come so far.Tears prick and pool in my eyes as I recall his finalbarriers crumbling last night when he let me touch him.Jeez, it took Leila and all her crazy to get us to there.Perhaps I should be grateful. The fact that he bathedher is not quite such a bitter taste on my tongue now. Iwonder which clothes he ga一ve her. I hope it wasn’t theplum dress. I liked that.So can I love this man with all his issuesunconditionally? Because he deserves nothing less. He stillneeds to learn boundaries and little things like empathy,and to be less controlling. He says he no longer feels thecompulsion to hurt me; perhaps Dr. Flynn will be able tocast some light on that.Fundamentally, that’s what concerns me most—that heneeds that and has always found like-minded women whoneed it, too. I frown. Yes, this is the reassurance I need. Iwant to be all things to this man, his Alpha and his Omegaand all things in between because he is to me.I hope Flynn will ha一ve the answers, and maybe then Ican say yes. Christian and I can find our own slice ofcan say yes. Christian and I can find our own slice ofhea一ven close to the sun.I gaze out at bustling, lunchtime Seattle. Mrs. ChristianGrey—who would ha一ve thought? I glance at my watch.Shit! I leap up from my seat and dash to the door—awhole hour of just sitting—where did the time go? Jack isgoing to go ballistic!I slink back to my desk. Fortunately, he’s not in his office.It looks like I’ve got away with it. I gaze intently at mycomputer screen, unseeing, trying to reassemble mythoughts into work mode.“Where were you?”I jump. Jack is standing, arms folded, behind me.“I was in the basement, photocopying,” I lie. Jack lipspress into a thin, uncompromising line.“I’m lea一ving for my plane at six thirty. I need you tostay until then.”“Okay.” I smile as sweetly as I can manage.“I’d like my itinerary for New York printed out andphotocopied ten times. And get the brochures packagedup. And get me some coffee!” he snarls and stalks into hisoffice.I breathe a sigh of relief and stick my tongue out at himas he closes the door. Bastard.At four o’clock, Claire rings from reception.“I ha一ve Mia Grey for you.”“I ha一ve Mia Grey for you.”Mia? I hope she doesn’t want to hang at the mall.“Hi, Mia!”“Ana, hi. How are you?” Her excitement is stifling.“Good. Busy today. You?”“I am so bored! I need to find something to do, so I’marranging a birthday party for Christian.”Christian’s birthday? Jeez, I had no idea. “When is it?”“I knew it. I knew he wouldn’t tell you. It’s onSaturday. Mom and Dad want everyone over for a mealto celebrate. I’m officially inviting you.”“Oh, that’s lovely. Thank you, Mia.”“I’ve already called Christian and told him, and hega一ve me your number here.”“Cool.” My mind is in a flat spin—what the hell am Igoing to get Christian for his birthday? What do you buythe man who has everything?“And maybe next week, we can go out onelunchtime?”“Sure. How about tomorrow? My boss is away inNew York.”“Oh, that would be cool, Ana. What time?”“Say, twelve forty-five?”“I’ll be there. Bye, Ana.”“Bye.” I hang up.Christian. Birthday. What on earth should I get him?From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: AntediluvianDate: June 15, 2011 16:11To: Christian GreyDear Mr. GreyWhen, exactly, were you going to tell me?What shall I get my old man for his birthday?Perhaps some new batteries for his hearing aid?A xAnastasia SteeleAssistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIPFrom: Christian GreySubject: PrehistoricDate: June 15, 2011 16:20To: Anastasia SteeleDon’t mock the elderly.Glad you are alive and kicking.And that Mia has been in touch.Batteries are always useful.I don’t like celebrating my birthday.xChristian Grey,Deaf as a Post CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: Hmmm.Date: June 15, 2011 16:24To: Christian GreyDear Mr. GreyI can imagine you pouting as you wrote that last sentence.That does things to me.A xoxAnastasia SteeleAssistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIPFrom: Christian GreySubject: Rolling EyesDate: June 15, 2011 16:29To: Anastasia SteeleMiss SteeleWILL YOU USE YOUR BLACKBERRY!!!xChristian Grey,Twitchy Palmed, CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.I roll my eyes. Why is he so touchy about e-mails?From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: InspirationDate: June 15, 2011 16:33To: Christian GreyDear Mr. GreyAh . . . your twitchy palms can’t stay still for long, can they?I wonder what Dr. Flynn would say about that?But now I know what to give you for your birthday—and I hope itmakes me sore . . .;)A xFrom: Christian GreySubject: AnginaDate: June 15, 2011 16:38To: Anastasia SteeleMiss SteeleI don’t think my heart could stand the strain of another e-mail likethat, or my pants for that matter.Beha一ve.Beha一ve.xChristian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: TryingDate: June 15, 2011 16:42To: Christian GreyChristianI am trying to work for my very trying boss.Please stop bothering me and being trying yourself.Your last e-mail nearly made me combust.xPS: Can you collect me at 6:30?From: Christian GreySubject: I’ll Be ThereDate: June 15, 2011 16:38To: Anastasia SteeleNothing would give me greater pleasure.Actually, I can think of any of number of things that would giveme greater pleasure, and they all involve you.me greater pleasure, and they all involve you.xChristian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.I flush reading his response and shake my head. E-mailbanter is all well and good, but we really need to talk.Perhaps once we’ve seen Flynn. I put my Blackberrydown and finish my petty cash reconciliation.By six fifteen, the office is deserted. I ha一ve everythingready for Jack. His cab to the airport is booked, and I justha一ve to hand him his documents. I glance anxiouslythrough the glass, but he’s still deep in his telephone call,and I don’t want to interrupt him—not in the mood he’s intoday.As I wait for him to finish, it occurs to me that I ha一venot eaten today. Oh shit, that’s not going to go down wellwith Fifty. I quickly skip down to the kitchen to see if thereare any cookies left.As I’m opening the communal cookie jar, Jackappears unexpectedly in the kitchen doorway, startling me.Oh. What’s he doing here?He stares at me. “Well, Ana, I think this might be agood time to discuss your misdemeanors.” He steps in,closing the door behind him, and my mouth instantly driesas alarm bells ring loud and piercing in my head.Oh fuck.His lips twitch into a grotesque smile, and his eyesgleam a deep, dark cobalt. “At last, I ha一ve you on yourown,” he says, and he slowly licks his lower lip.What?“Now . . . are you going to be a good girl and listenvery carefully to what I say?”Jack’s eyes flash the darkest blue, and he sneers as hecasts a leering look down my body.Fear chokes me. What is this? What does he want? Fromsomewhere deep inside and despite my dry mouth, I findthe resolve and courage to squeeze out some words, myself-defense class keep-them-talking mantra circling mybrain like an ethereal sentinel.“Jack, now might not be a good time for this. Your cabis due in ten minutes, and I need to give you all yourdocuments.” My voice is quiet but hoarse, betraying me.documents.” My voice is quiet but hoarse, betraying me.He smiles, and it’s a despotic fuck-you smile thatfinally touches his eyes. They glint in the harsh fluorescentglow of the strip light above us in the drab windowlessroom. He takes a step toward me, glaring at me, his eyesnever lea一ving mine. His pupils are dilating as I watch—theblack eclipsing the blue. Oh no. My fear escalates.“You know I had to fight with Elizabeth to give you thisjob . . .” His voice trails off as he takes another steptoward me, and I step back against the dingy wallcupboards. Keep-him-talking, keep-him-talking, keephim-talking.“Jack, what exactly is your problem? If you want to airyour grievances, then perhaps we should ask HR to getinvolved. We could do this with Elizabeth in a more formalsetting.”Where is security? Are they in the building yet?“We don’t need HR to overmanage this situation Ana,”he sneers. “When I hired you, I thought you would be ahard worker. I thought you had potential. But now, I don’thard worker. I thought you had potential. But now, I don’tknow. You’ve become distracted and sloppy. And Iwondered . . . is it your boyfriend who’s leading youastray?” He says boyfriend with chilling contempt.“I decided to check through your e-mail account to seeif I could find any clues. And you know what I found,Ana? What was out of place? The only personal e-mails inyour account were to your hot-shot boyfriend.” Hepauses, assessing my reaction. “And I got to thinking . . .where are the e-mails from him? There are none. Nada.Nothing. So what’s going on, Ana? How come his e-mailsto you aren’t on our system? Are you some company spy,planted in here by Grey’s organization? Is that what thisis?”Holy shit, the e-mails. Oh no. What ha一ve I said?“Jack, what are you talking about?” I try forbewildered, and I’m pretty convincing. This conversationis not going as I expected, but I don’t trust him in theslightest. Some subliminal pheromone that Jack is exudinghas me on high alert. This man is angry, volatile, and totallyunpredictable. I try to reason with him.“You just said that you had to persuade Elizabeth tohire me. So how could I be planted as a spy? Make upyour mind, Jack.”“But Grey fucked the New York trip, didn’t he?”Oh shit.“How did he manage that, Ana? What did your rich,Ivy League boyfriend do?”What little blood remains in my face drains away, and Ithink I’m going to faint. “I don’t know what you’re talkingabout, Jack,” I whisper. “Your cab will be here shortly.Shall I fetch your things?” Oh please, let me go. Stop this.Jack continues, enjoying my discomfort. “And hethinks I’d make a pass at you?” He smirks and his eyesheat. “Well, I want you to think about something while I’min New York. I ga一ve you this job, and I expect you toshow me some gratitude. In fact, I’m entitled to it. I had tofight to get you. Elizabeth wanted someone betterqualified, but I—I saw something in you. So, we need towork out a deal. A deal where you keep me happy. D’youwork out a deal. A deal where you keep me happy. D’youunderstand what I’m saying, Ana?”Fuck!“Look at it as refining your job description, if you like.And if you keep me happy, I won’t dig any further intohow your boyfriend is pulling strings, milking his contacts,or cashing in some fa一vor from one of his Ivy League fratboysycophants.”My mouth drops open. He’s blackmailing me. Forsex! And what can I say? News of Christian’s takeover isembargoed for another three weeks. I can barely believethis. Sex—with me!Jack moves closer until he’s standing right in front ofme, staring down into my eyes. His cloying sweet cologneinvades my nostrils—it’s nauseating—and if I’m notmistaken, the bitter stench of alcohol is on his breath.Fuck, he’s been drinking . . . when?“You are such a tight-assed, cock-blocking, pricktease, you know, Ana,” he whispers through clenchedteeth.teeth.What? Prick tease . . . Me?“Jack, I ha一ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Iwhisper, as I feel the adrenaline surge through my body.He’s closer now. I am waiting to make my move. Ray willbe proud. Ray taught me what to do. Ray knows his selfdefense.If Jack touches me—if he even breathes tooclose to me—I will take him down. My breath is shallow. Imust not faint, I must not faint.“Look at you.” He gives me a leering look. “You’re soturned on, I can tell. You’ve really led me on. Deep downyou want it. I know.”Holy fuck. The man is completely delusional. My fearrises to DEFCON ONE, threatening to overwhelm me. “No,Jack. I ha一ve never led you on.”“You ha一ve, you prick-teasing bitch. I can read thesigns.” Reaching up, he gently strokes my face with theback of his knuckles, down to my chin. His index fingerstrokes my throat, and my heart leaps into my mouth as Ifight my gag reflex. He reaches the dip at the base of myneck, where the top button of my black shirt is open, andpresses his hand against my chest.“You want me. Admit it, Ana.”Keeping my eyes firmly fixed on his and concentratingon what I ha一ve to do—rather than my mushroomingrevulsion and dread—I place my hand gently over his in acaress. He smiles in triumph. I grab his little finger, andtwist it back, pulling it sharply down backward to his hip.“Arrgh!” he cries out in pain and surprise, and as heleans off balance, I bring my knee, swift and hard, up intohis groin, and make perfect contact with my goal. I dodgedeftly to my left as his knees buckle, and he collapses witha groan onto the kitchen floor, grasping himself betweenhis legs.“Don’t you ever touch me again,” I snarl at him. “Youritinerary and the brochures are packaged on my desk. Iam going home now. Ha一ve a nice trip. And in the future,get your own damn coffee.”“You fucking bitch!” he half screams, half groans atme, but I am already out the door.me, but I am already out the door.I run full pelt to my desk, grab my jacket and mypurse, and dash to front reception, ignoring the moans andcurses emanating from the bastard still prostrate on thekitchen floor. I burst out of the building and stop for amoment as the cool air hits my face, take a deep breath,and compose myself. But I ha一ven’t eaten all day, and asthe very unwelcome surge of adrenaline recedes, my legsgive out beneath me and I sink to the ground.I watch with mild detachment the slow motion moviethat plays out in front of me: Christian and Taylor in darksuits and white shirts, leaping out of the waiting car andrunning toward me. Christian sinks to his knees at my side,and on some unconscious level, all I can think is: He’shere. My love is here.“Ana, Ana! What’s wrong?” He scoops me into hislap, running his hands up and down my arms, checking forany signs of injury. Grabbing my head between his hands,he stares with wide, terrified, gray eyes into mine. I sagagainst him, suddenly overwhelmed with relief and fatigue.against him, suddenly overwhelmed with relief and fatigue.Oh, Christian’s arms. There is no place I’d rather be.“Ana.” He shakes me gently. “What’s wrong? Are yousick?”I shake my head as I realize I need to startcommunicating.“Jack,” I whisper, and I sense rather than seeChristian’s swift glance at Taylor, who abruptly disappearsinto the building.“Fuck!” Christian enfolds me in his arms. “What didthat sleazeball do to you?”And from somewhere just the right side of crazy, agiggle bubbles in my throat. I recall Jack’s utter shock as Igrabbed his finger.“It’s what I did to him.” I start giggling and I can’tstop.“Ana!” Christian shakes me again, and my giggling fitceases. “Did he touch you?”“Only once.”I feel Christian’s muscles bunch and tense as ragesweeps through him, and he stands up swiftly, powerfully—rock steady—with me in his arms. He’s furious. No!“Where is that fucker?”From inside the building we hear muffled shouting.Christian sets me on my feet.“Can you stand?”I nod.“Don’t go in. Don’t, Christian.” Suddenly my fear isback, fear of what Christian will do to Jack.“Get in the car,” he barks at me.“Christian, no.” I grab his arm.“Get in the goddamned car, Ana.” He shakes me off.“No! Please!” I plead with him. “Stay. Don’t lea一ve meon my own.” I deploy my ultimate weapon.Seething, Christian runs his hand through his hair andglares down at me, clearly wracked with indecision. Theshouting inside the building escalates, and then stopssuddenly.Oh, no. What has Taylor done?Christian fishes out his Blackberry.Christian fishes out his Blackberry.“Christian, he has my e-mails.”“What?”“My e-mails to you. He wanted to know where youre-mails to me were. He was trying to blackmail me.”Christian’s look is murderous. Oh shit. “Fuck!” hesplutters and narrows his eyes at me. He punches anumber into his Blackberry.Oh no. I’m in trouble. Who’s he calling?“Barney. Grey. I need you to access the SIP mainserver and wipe all Anastasia Steele’s e-mails to me. Thenaccess the personal data files of Jack Hyde and checkthey aren’t stored there. If they are, wipe them . . . Yes, allof them. Now. Let me know when it’s done.”He stabs the off button then dials another number.“Roach. Grey. Hyde—I want him out. Now. Thisminute. Call security. Get him to clear his deskimmediately, or I will liquidate this company first thing inthe morning. You already ha一ve all the justification you needto give him his pink slip. Do you understand?” He listensto give him his pink slip. Do you understand?” He listensfor a moment and hangs up seemingly satisfied.“Blackberry,” he hisses at me through clenched teeth.“Please don’t be mad at me.” I blink up at him.“I am so mad at you right now,” he snarls and oncemore sweeps his hand through his hair. “Get in the car.”“Christian, please—”“Get in the fucking car, Anastasia, or so help me I’llput you in there myself,” he threatens, his eyes blazing withfury.Oh shit. “Don’t do anything stupid, please,” I beg.“STUPID!” he explodes. “I told you to use yourfucking Blackberry. Don’t talk to me about stupid. Get inthe motherfucking car, Anastasia—NOW!” he snarls and afrisson of fear runs through me. This is Very AngryChristian. I’ve not seen him this mad before. He’s barelyholding on to his self-control.“Okay,” I mutter, placating him. “But please, becareful.”Pressing his lips together in a hard line, he pointsangrily to the car, glaring at me.Jeez, okay, I get the message.“Please be careful. I don’t want anything to happen toyou. It would kill me,” I murmur. He blinks rapidly andstills, lowering his arm while he takes a deep breath.“I’ll be careful,” he says, his eyes softening. Oh, thankthe Lord. His eyes burn into me as I head to the car, openthe front passenger door, and climb in. Once I’m safely inthe comfort of the Audi, he disappears into the building,and my heart leaps again into my throat. What’s heplanning to do?I sit and wait. And wait. And wait. Five eternalminutes. Jack’s cab pulls up in front of the Audi. Tenminutes. Fifteen. Jeez, what are they doing in there, andhow is Taylor? The wait is agonizing.Twenty-five minutes later, Jack emerges from thebuilding, clutching a cardboard storage box. Behind him isthe security guard. Where was he earlier? And after them,Christian and Taylor. Jack looks sick. He heads straightfor the cab, and I’m grateful for the Audi’s hea一vily tintedfor the cab, and I’m grateful for the Audi’s hea一vily tintedwindows so he cannot see me. The cab drives off—presumably not to Sea-Tac—as Christian and Taylorreach the car.Opening the driver’s door, Christian slides smoothlyinto the seat, presumably because I am in the front, andTaylor gets in behind me. Neither of them says a word asChristian starts the car and pulls out into the traffic. I risk aquick glance at Fifty. His mouth is set in a firm line, but heseems distracted. The in-car phone rings.“Grey,” Christian snaps.“Mr. Grey, Barney here.”“Barney, I’m on speaker phone, and there are othersin the car,” Christian warns.“Sir, it’s all done. But I need to talk to you about whatelse I found on Mr. Hyde’s computer.”“I’ll call you when I reach my destination. And thanks,Barney.”“No problem, Mr. Grey.”Barney hangs up. He sounds much younger than IBarney hangs up. He sounds much younger than Iexpected.What else is on Jack’s computer?“Are you talking to me?” I ask quietly.Christian glances at me, before fixing his eyes back onthe road ahead, and I can tell he’s still mad.“No,” he mutters sullenly.Oh, there we go . . . how childish. I wrap my armsaround myself and stare unseeing out the window. PerhapsI should just ask him to drop me off at my apartment, thenhe can “not talk” to me from the safety of Escala and sa一veus both the inevitable quarrel. But even as I think it, Iknow I don’t want to lea一ve him to brood, not afteryesterday.Eventually, we pull up in front of his apartment building,and Christian climbs out of the car. Moving with easygrace around to my side, he opens my door.“Come,” he orders as Taylor clambers into the driver’sseat. I take his proffered hand and follow him through thegrand foyer to the elevator. He doesn’t let go of me.“Christian, why are you so mad at me?” I whisper aswe wait.“You know why,” he mutters as we step into theelevator, and he punches in the code to his floor. “God, ifsomething had happened to you, he’d be dead by now.”Christian’s tone chills me to the bone. The doors close.“As it is, I’m going to ruin his career so he can’t takeadvantage of young women anymore, miserable excuse fora man that he is.” He shakes his head. “Jesus, Ana!” Hegrabs me suddenly, imprisoning me in the corner of theelevator.His hands fist in my hair as he pulls my face up to his,and his mouth is on mine, a passionate desperation in hiskiss. I don’t know why this takes me by surprise, but itdoes. I taste his relief, his longing, and his residual angerwhile his tongue possesses my mouth. He stops, gazingdown at me, resting his weight against me so I can’t move.He lea一ves me breathless, clinging to him for support,staring up into that beautiful face etched with determinationand without any trace of humor.and without any trace of humor.“If anything had happened to you . . . If he’d harmedyou . . .” I feel the shudder that runs through him.“Blackberry,” he commands quietly. “From now on.Understand?”I nod, swallowing, unable to break eye contact fromhis grim, mesmerizing look.He straightens, releasing me as the elevator comes to astop. “He said you kicked him in the balls.” Christian’stone is lighter with a trace of admiration, and I think I’mforgiven.“Yes,” I whisper, still reeling from the intensity of hiskiss and his impassioned command.“Good.”“Ray is ex-army. He taught me well.”“I’m very glad he did,” he breathes and adds, arching abrow, “I’ll need to remember that.” Taking my hand, heleads me out of the elevator and I follow, relieved. I thinkthat’s as bad as his mood is going to get.“I need to call Barney. I won’t be long.” He“I need to call Barney. I won’t be long.” Hedisappears into his study, lea一ving me stranded in the vastliving room. Mrs. Jones is adding the finishing touches toour meal. I realize I am famished, but I need something todo.“Can I help?” I ask.