I'm in Starbucks for my lunch break. It's all medium wood and green decor, the smell of coffee wreathing around me like smoke or fog or whatever. I can't wait to get a latte, I imagine it's going to be refreshing and rejuvenating, like a spring shower in April or May. The guy behind the counter takes my order and asks for my name. "Ana. Short for Anastasia" I reply.
"Like the Russian princess?" he asks. "I'll just put Princess down, shall I, gorgeous?"
Jeez! I'm sure he's mocking me. As if I could be compared to a princess! I mean, I'm far too skinny and pale and my hair is a mess, cascading over my shoulders in artful waves and my designer clothes weren't pressed after the early morning quickie I had with super-hot Christian Grey this morning. I still don't understand why he wants me, mousy Ana Steele, when he could have someone like Miss Cheeky Smile Barista who's making my drink.
As if on cue like he'd been summoned, Christian suddenly ruptured into the coffee shop and strode towards me. He was wearing a crisp suit and tie and his copper hair glowed in the soft lighting. He looked so hot. All the women in the store turned to stare at him and Miss Cheeky Smile Barista almost dropped my latte. "Come," he ordered, and grabbing my wrist, he pulled me out onto the pavement. Uh oh, someone's in trouble, my subconscious sneers, peering over the cover of Persuasion.
"What's the matter?" I questioned.
Christian opened the door of the Audi and gesticulated for me to enter with his outstretched hand. "That man was flirting with you, Ana," he growled.
"Me!?" I gasp, flushing pink. Then I frowned. "Wait, how did you even know what he said?"
"Never mind that," Christian snapped coldly. Oh my, this beautiful, mercurial man. Will I ever be able to predict his moods? "I ran a background check on the staff here. That barista dated two customers. He wants what's mine, baby." Then he grabs his iPhone 7. It's silver and has lots of apps. "Mark. That barista from the Starbucks on Seventh. Have him fired." Then he turns to me, his gaze smouldering. "From now on, Taylor will fetch your coffee."
Taylor's eyes meet mine in the mirror, which reflects our eyes. He's been watching me in the mirror a lot lately. I'm sure he keeps checking to make sure he's not hallucinating and it's really ugly skinny me with Christian and not some blonde bombshell.
"But Christian, I can get my own coffee," I dissent argumentatively.
Christian's eyes darken. "Are you defying me, Miss Steele? Because I will have to punish you for that."
Holy crap and double cow! My inner goddess pauses in the middle of donning her sluttiest fishnet pantyhose and wonders whether she should be hiding or celebrating.
Back at the Escala, Christian gets straight back to work. I should be at work too, I realise, but Christian's brought me here instead. I wander around for a bit, marvelling at all the rooms, and then peep in on Christian. He's taken off his suit jacket and loosened his tie and he's so beautiful I want to cry.
"Yes, Starbucks," he barks into the iPhone. "Buy it. All of it. It's shit or bust time. We need to think outside the box here."
Suddenly, I sense a presence behind me and I turn to see Taylor looking sadly at me. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, he puts a warning finger to his lips, telling me to be silent and motions for me to follow him. After we pass a few rooms, we reach his office. I look at all the CCTV, trying to find Christian. Is he really going to buy Starbucks just because of the barista? He did say he'd buy every place you worked at, my subconscious reminds me from behind her copy of Wuthering Heights. Why not buy all the places you eat at too?
"Miss Steele, forgive me for being so forward, but you're in danger," Taylor warns me. Danger? What kind of danger could be worse than Mrs Robinson, Leila and Jack Hyde? I ask him that, and he glances towards the CCTV. "It's Mr Grey... he's getting more and more paranoid. Surely you've noticed?"
"Paranoid about what?" I ask.
"About you leaving him."
"But I'd never leave him!" I argue. "Last time we broke up, I'd never felt pain like it, it was like I'd died or had my heart ripped out. Haven't I proven myself to him?"
"No," Taylor says flatly and I gasp in outrage. "Haven't you noticed? No men work in your building any more. All the places you go to eat are staffed by women. Haven't you noticed that Jose and Ethan and Ray never call any more? It's because their numbers are blocked. Every day, I expect to be fired. The man's trying to buy Starbucks, for goodness sake! He's terrified you're going to go for coffee and accidentally fuck the barista!"
My mouth falls open in shock. My Christian, my Fifty, would he really do that? Surely I'm too hideous for any other man. Why is a beautiful, wonderful, kind and charming man like Christian even with me? Why indeed? My subconscious frowns at me over her copy of Emma. But now I think about it, I realise Taylor's right. I haven't heard from Jose in months. I was too busy with the home invasion and the house move and the promotion and the trip to Aspen and the trip to Paris and the trip to England where I saw the birthplace of all my literary heroines to even notice. Oh, my Fifty! This is because I can't be the person he needs, a submissive he can control, that's why he's got so bad! "Oh Taylor, this is all my fault!" I cry.
"I can help you," Taylor says with earnest intent. "I can get you away from him."
I gasp in shock. Leave my Fifty? NO! I know what I need to do. I need him to take me back to the Red Room Of Pain. If I let him beat me, he'll stop being so controlling. I march back to Christian's office, where he's pacing in the moonlight. He looks so hot, I can't help myself from letting out an involuntary sigh. I enter the room, fall at his feet and assume the submissive position.
"My my, what's brought this on, Ana?" he murmurs seductively.
"Take me to the Red Room of Pain, Master," I beg him. "I know you need it."
We go to the Red Room Of Pain and Christian bends me over the bed and shackles my wrists to the bedframe. "All mine," he murmurs quietly. Then he kisses me all over... and down there. Oh my! My inner goddess cartwheels across the room but crashes to her knees when Christian picks up a riding crop. "I'm going to whip you now, Miss Steele," he says sternly and I begin to tremble. Can I take the pain? For my Fifty? I don't know if I can. But I bite my lip to stop myself from crying out as the first blow rains down upon my behind. "Biting your lip, Anastasia? Surely you know what that does to me," he says in a voice like sweet sugared honey. Then I hear the sound of foil tearing and then he's in me and we start to move, really move. "Come on, baby," he hisses in my ear and I explode like a grenade, spinning around and around like a merry-go-round in a therapeutic orgasm.
I'm tired and hungry after all that exertion, so while Christian chooses my night clothes, I order a pizza. Soon, there's a knock at the door. "I'll get it," I say, and run to the door. The pizza delivery guy smiles at me. "Here you go, miss, pepperoni and extra chilli. Super hot," he adds with a wink.
Suddenly and without warning, Christian pushes me aside, hands the delivery guy a 50 and shuts the door in his face. "Why were you flirting with him, Ana?" he asks with an anguished shake of his head.
"I... I wasn't-" I try to protest.
"He said you were hot," Christian cries, lashing out and punching a hole in the wall. "What would I ever do if you were to leave?" he expresses, looking despondent.
"I love you, Christian," I say softly and lean in to hug him. He cries onto my shoulder, and over his shoulder, I can't help but see Taylor shaking his head sadly at me. I turn away from his accusing gaze and my eyes rest upon the hole in the wall and I realise Taylor's right. No matter how much pain I suck up, I can never be enough for Christian. And even though it breaks my heart to do so, I turn to meet Taylor's gaze again and nod subtly.
Two hours later, Taylor enters the room. "Mr Grey, the car is here to take you to your meeting." Christian frowns. "Aren't you driving?"
"They insisted on their own driver. Apparently there's an angry ex-employee they think could make trouble."
Christian's eyes immediately look to mine. "I'd better go and make sure everything's in order. Taylor, keep an eye on Miss Steele for me."
I want to tell him I'm not a baby, but I realise this is my chance. My chance to leave and let my beautiful Christian find someone else, someone more suitable for him, someone he can be happy with. I know if I don't go now, if I actually sit down to plan it (not that I can after the hiding he gave us, my inner goddess purrs) I'll never go through with it. So as soon as Christian's gone, I look to Taylor. "I already packed you a bag," he informs me. "Turn out your pockets, make sure you're not carrying your cell phone or cards. We'll hit the road as soon as Mr Grey's left the garage."
It's all so sudden. One minute I'm in the apartment, the next, Taylor's buckling me into the front seat of a cheap car. "No tracking equipment in these," Taylor says, patting the bonnet. "Let's go."
All of a sudden I want to leap out of the car and run to Christian's arms. What am I doing, planning to run away from the only man I've ever loved, without even saying goodbye? Am I mad? I'll never find anyone else, never! I can only hope Taylor will find me a place near a pet store because my only company from now on will be lots of cats as I mourn my lost love. But before I can say a word, Taylor floors the pedal to the medal and we're on our way.
We've been driving for six hours and I've cried for all of them. I've never felt pain like this, ever. I refuse to eat the food Taylor offers - right now I can barely stand to look at him.
Day Two apart from Christian
Day Three apart from Christian
Day Four apart from Christian
Day Five dawns and I wake from a dream in which I'm running from an active volcano. I wonder what it means. As soon as he sees I'm awake, Taylor pulls into a gas station so I can pee and stretch my legs. I wonder what Christian's doing, if he misses me. Probably drawing up the paperwork for the next sub, my subconscious says bitchily from behind her copy of Jane Eyre. I feel numb. Taylor approaches me, holding something out to me and for a moment I don't recognise it. Then I realise it's a cell phone, one of those old ones with no 3G. I'll bet the ringtones suck. For a moment I consider calling Christian, but when I take it, I realise there's already a connection. I look at Taylor, bewildered and confused.
"It's for you," he says by way of explanation.
"Hello?" I say into the receiver.
"Dos mios! Ana, is it really you!?" I hear Jose cry before a female shriek hits my eardrums. Kate. I suddenly realise I haven't heard from her in ages either. "Oh my God, Ana! Where have you been!? Are you OK!? What happened!?" Ugh, the Katherine Kavanagh Inquisition begins. It's so annoying when I don't speak to her for ages after all sorts of life-threatening things and she wants to know if I'm OK.
"It's me," I say dully. "I'm fine."
Then Kate bursts into wet tears, which snaps me out of my stupor for a moment. "Oh Ana! Christian said you'd contracted a deadly disease and died! We couldn't even come and see you because it was so contagious!"
My jaw drops. My inner goddess falls off her stripper pole and my subconscious drops her copy of War and Peace. Christian told them I was dead? Why would he do that? I don't even realise I said the question aloud until Taylor answers me.
"He didn't want you to have anyone to run to," he says quietly. "Once he'd got you away from your friends and family, he was planning to have you sacked so you'd have no choice but to stay home, waiting to service him, like a really fucked up pet sex budgie."
I gasp and flush pink as Taylor takes my hands in his. "I couldn't do it any more, Ana. Not now... not now I've fallen in love with you."
And as I realise I have options other than 'crazy cat lady' and 'fucked up billionaire's living Real Doll,' I embrace Taylor in a hug and we ride off into the sunset.