fifty shades darker (40 page)

Christian Grey

Completely & Utterly Shocked CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From:
Anastasia Steele

Subject:
Giggling—and wet too

Date:
June 14, 2011: 09:42

To:
Christian Grey

Dear Completely & Utterly Shocked

Always.

I have work to do.

Stop bothering me.

SM&I xx

From:
Christian Grey

Subject:
Do I have to?

Date:
June 14, 2011 09:50

To:
Anastasia Steele

Dear SM&I

As ever, your wish is my command.

Love that you are giggling and wet.

Laters, baby.

x

Christian Grey,

Completely & Utterly Smitten, Shocked and Spellbound CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I put the Blackberry down and get on with my work.

At lunchtime, Jack asks me to go down to the deli for his lunch. I call Christian as soon as I leave Jack’s office.

“Anastasia.” He answers immediately, his voice warm and caressing. How is it that this man can make me melt over the phone?

“Christian, Jack has asked me to get his lunch.”

“Lazy bastard,” Christian gripes.

I ignore him and continue. “So I’m going to get it. It might be handy if you gave me Sawyer’s number, so I don’t have to bother you.”

“It’s no bother, baby.”

“Are you on your own?”

“No. There are six people staring at me at the moment wondering who the hell I’m talking to.”

Shit . . .
“Really?” I gasp, panicked.

“Yes. Really. My girlfriend,” he announces away from the phone.

Holy cow!
“They probably all thought you were gay, you know.”

He laughs. “Yeah, probably.” I hear his grin.

“Er—I’d better go.” I am sure he can tell how embarrassed I am to be interrupting him.

“I’ll let Sawyer know.” He laughs again. “Have you heard from your friend?”

“Not yet. You’ll be the first to know, Mr. Grey.”

“Good. Laters, baby.”

“Bye, Christian.” I grin. Every time he says that, it makes me smile . . . so un-Fifty, but somehow so him, too.

When I exit moments later, Sawyer is waiting on the doorstep of the building.

“Miss Steele,” he greets me formally.

“Sawyer.” I nod in response and together we head down to the deli.

I don’t feel as comfortable with Sawyer as I do with Taylor. He continually scans the street as we make our way along the block. It actually makes me more nervous, and I find myself mirroring his actions.

Is Leila out there? Or are we all infected by Christian’s paranoia? Is this part of his fifty shades? What I’d give for half an hour of candid discussion with Dr. Flynn, to find out.

There’s nothing amiss, just lunchtime Seattle—people rushing for lunch, shopping, meeting friends. I watch two young women hug as they meet up.

I miss Kate. It’s only been two weeks since she left for her vacation, but it feels like the longest two weeks of my life. So much has happened—she’ll never believe me when I tell her. Well, tell her the edited NDA-compliant version. I frown. I’ll have to talk to Christian about that. What would Kate make of it? I blanch at the thought. Perhaps she’ll be back with Ethan. I feel a rush of excitement at the thought, but I think it’s unlikely. She’d stay on with Elliot surely.

“Where do you stand when you’re waiting and watching outside?” I ask Sawyer as we get in line for lunch. Sawyer is in front of me, facing the door, continually monitoring the street and anyone who comes in. It’s unnerving.

“I sit in the coffee shop directly across the street, Miss Steele.”

“Doesn’t it get very boring?”

“Not to me, ma’am. It’s what I do,” he says stiffly.

I flush. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply . . .” My voice trails off at his kind, understanding expression.

“Please, Miss Steele. My job is to protect you. And that’s what I’ll do.”

“So, no sign of Leila?”

“No, ma’am.”

I frown. “How do you know what she looks like?”

“I’ve seen her photograph.”

“Oh, do you have it on you?”

“No, ma’am.” He taps his skull. “Committed to memory.”

Of course. I’d really like to examine a photograph of Leila to see what she looked like before she became Ghost Girl. I wonder if Christian would let me have a copy? Yes, he probably would—for my safety. I hatch a plan, and my subconscious gloats and nods approvingly.

The brochures arrive back at the office, and I have to say, they look great. I take one into Jack’s office. His eyes light up, and I don’t know if it’s at me or the brochure. I choose to believe it’s the latter.

“These look great, Ana.” Idly, he flicks through it. “Yeah, good job. Are you seeing your boyfriend this evening?” His lip curls as he says
boyfriend.

“Yes. We live together.” It’s sort of the truth. Well, we do at the moment. And I have officially agreed to move in, so it’s not much of a white lie. I hope that it’s enough to throw him off the scent.

“Would he object to you coming out for a quick drink tonight? To celebrate all your hard work?”

“I have a friend coming in from out of town tonight, and we’re all going out for dinner.” And I’ll be busy every night, Jack.

“I see.” He sighs, exasperated. “Maybe when I’m back from New York, huh?” He raises his eyebrows in expectation, and his gaze darkens suggestively.

Oh no.
I smile, noncommittal, stifling a shudder.

“Would you like some coffee or tea?” I ask.

“Coffee, please.” His voice is low and husky as if he’s asking for something else. Fuck.

He’s not going to back off. I can see that now.
Oh . . . What to do?

I breathe a long sigh of relief when I am out of his office. He makes me tense. Christian is right about him, and part of me is pissed that Christian
is
right about him.

I sit down at my desk and my Blackberry rings—a number I don’t recognize.

“Ana Steele.”

“Hi, Steele!” Ethan’s drawl catches me momentarily off guard.

“Ethan! How are you?” I almost squeal with delight.

“Glad to be back. I am seriously fed up with sunshine and rum punches, and my baby sister being hopelessly in love with the big guy. It’s been hell, Ana.”

“Yeah! Sea, sand, sun, and rum punches sounds like
Dante’s Inferno
.” I giggle. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Sea-Tac, waiting for my bag. What are you doing?”

“I’m at work. Yes, I am gainfully employed,” I respond to his gasp. “Do you want to come here and collect the keys? I can meet you later at the apartment.”

“Sounds great. I’ll see you in about 45 minutes, an hour maybe? What’s the address?”

I give him SIP’s address.

“See you soon, Ethan.”

“Laters,” he says and hangs up. What? Not Ethan, too? And it dawns on me that he’s just spent a week with Elliot. I quickly type an e-mail to Christian.

From:
Anastasia Steele

Subject:
Visitors from Sunny Climes.

Date:
June 14, 2011: 14:55

To:
Christian Grey

Dearest Completely & Utterly SS&S

Ethan is back, and he’s coming here to collect keys to the apartment.

I’d really like to make sure he’s settled in okay.

Why don’t you collect me after work? We can go to the apartment then we can ALL go out for a meal maybe?

My treat?

Your

Ana x

Still SM&I

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIP

From:
Christian Grey

Subject:
Dinner Out

Date:
June 14, 2011 15:05

To:
Anastasia Steele

I approve of your plan. Except the part about you paying!

My treat.

I’ll collect you at 6:00.

x

PS: Why aren’t you using your Blackberry!!!

Christian Grey

Completely and Utterly Annoyed, CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From:
Anastasia Steele

Subject:
Bossiness

Date:
June 14, 2011: 15:11

To:
Christian Grey

Oh, don’t be so crusty and cross.

It’s all in code.

I’ll see you at 6:00.

Ana x

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIP

From:
Christian Grey

Subject:
Maddening Woman

Date:
June 14, 2011 15:18

To:
Anastasia Steele

Crusty and cross!

I’ll give you crusty and cross.

And look forward to it.

Christian Grey

Completely and Utterly More Annoyed, but smiling for some unknown reason, CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From:
Anastasia Steele

Subject:
Promises. Promises.

Date:
June 14, 2011: 15:23

To:
Christian Grey

Bring it on, Mr. Grey

I look forward to it too. ;D

Ana x

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIP

He doesn’t reply, but then I don’t expect him to. I imagine him moaning about mixed signals, and the thought makes me smile. I daydream briefly about what he might do to me but find myself shifting about in my chair. My subconscious gazes at me disapprovingly over her half-moon specs—get on with your work.