Yale Summa Cum Laude takes Washington by Storm:
The swift and jaw dropping success of The Steele Corporation has all eyes and ears in Washington on its brain child, Miss Anastasia Steele. After matriculating from High School three years early and graduating top of her postgraduate class, also early, from Yale Business School, the intellectually gifted young entrepreneur has burst onto the commercial scene. Her exuberance has not been witnessed since the inception of Grey Enterprise Holdings, the proud fiefdom of Mr Christian Grey, who currently dominates the telecommunications market and represents Miss Steele's only real competition. Academic commentary suggests that given the size and scale of both TSC and GEH, there's only enough room for one kid on the block. At the tender age of twenty-one, Miss Steele has the benefit of supreme youth on her side.
But at the still tender age of twenty-six, Mr Grey has the slight advantage of experience and all the connections that go with it. With every passing day, TSC attacks the many fingers that GEH holds in so many different pies. Speculation is rife that a heated meeting between the two millennial moguls took place behind closed doors in recent days. Whispers suggest that Mr Grey sought an agreement to acquire Miss Steele's booming business for a healthier than healthy price. Given that it was just yesterday that saw TSC announcing plans for expansion into the green energy movement, it's safe to say that Mr Grey's offer was not accepted. A battle for dominance now seems inevitable. Regardless of who emerges victorious, it's clear to see that GEH's days of monopolising are rapidly coming under fire.
TSC, although embryonic, clearly means business.
Stay tuned as the battle for Washington unfolds.
No matter how much he stared and glared, it didn't change. The ink still shone up at him, revealing the same damned message. Taylor hovered with a rare nervousness at the door, waiting for instruction. Burning a crater in the newspaper with his eyes, Christian didn't even appear to be breathing. There were no whispers, there was no speculation. The only people who knew that he and that girl were to have a meeting, was he and that girl. Which means she tipped off the paper.
Which meant that she never intended to even consider his offer. Which meant that she had played him for a write-up she could pretend to be above and would prioritise her over him in the public eye. Everyone loves an underdog. And when that underdog has the IQ of your average astronaut, a very pretty face and a gracious manner, all bets are in her corner.
He seethed as his fingers drummed loudly against the table.
He had been willing, graciously, to buy her out.
Like he generally did with all his inconveniences.
And she had used that generosity to manipulate her own image at the expense of his. Rereading the article, he closed his eyes. Channelled his anger into productive, calculated thinking. She was a child. A foetus. Chronologically, he may be only a few years older than her, but mentally, they weren't of the same generation. She was picking a fight with someone she couldn't possibly conquer nor appreciate the consequences that were coming down the line for her. True, she had in the space of a single year given birth to and raised a demon of a business, but that was mere beginners luck.
And beginners luck always ran out.
His luck was a different breed. He made it. Crafted it. Toiled and sweated over it and he wasn't about to have it overshadowed by some overgrown High Schooler with an Ivy league degree. He rolled his eyes. Yale? He'd rather continue to be a Harvard drop out than a Yale graduate. Talk about second-rate. Just another modicum of her inferiority that shone like a spotlight next to his superiority. She may have studied business, but he was business. Rising from the breakfast table, smoothing his tie, he beckoned to Taylor.
"Sir?"
Handing him the newspaper, Christian's voice bled with scheming anger.
"Throw this rag in the trash, cancel my subscription with immediate effect, and bring the car around. We need to get to the airport with enough time to factor in an early lunch with the people from the European division. Yes?"
Privately praying for the well-being of Miss Anastasia Steele, Taylor nodded.
"Right away, Sir."
Far across town and in the first of what would be her many apartments, Ana Steele drank her morning coffee with a smile on her face that couldn't be dampened. Rereading her morning newspaper, her grin grew and grew. It had been worth suffering through a pointless meeting with that arrogant, cold and downright serpentine Christian Grey to wrangle a write-up that made her sound like a wonderchild. The all-American dream. Picturing the look on Grey's face, she was busily smiling to herself when Gideon, her new driver, melted into the doorway and smiled politely at her.
"Good morning, Miss Steele. Shall I bring the car around?"
Swallowing her last mouthful of cereal, she nodded pleasantly and rose with grace. Dressed in a razor sharp trouser suit that accentuated her tall, slender frame, she commanded respect from her mere presence. Dark hair was pulled tightly back from a youthful and pretty face, with two or three loose locks to emphasise her intelligent eyes. She was beautiful and she knew it, though she didn't show it. For that would defeat the purpose of knowing it.
Reading her schedule on her blackberry as she swept along behind Gideon, she grinned when an update popped up that she had been cautiously expecting. Slipping into the back of her very first town car, she relished the feel of the genuine leather. She was quite sure she would never tire of it, no matter how many riches she was destined to acquire. Or wrest from the hands of overgrown boys that thought themselves better than the world.
"Where to, Miss Steele?"
Leaning back against the luxurious seat, she smiled slowly up at the roof.
"To the airport, Gideon. Quick as you can please. There's an arrival on the way that needs to be shall we say, intercepted, for the greater good."
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A/N: Had this one rattling around my mind for a while and after finishing Yes, Professor and FSOG: Rewritten, I now have the time to write it. Probably be a longer multi-chaptered one! Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! PS: To any Yale students or alumni, I mean absolutely no offence. Just needed to accentuate Christian's arrogance!
Inks x
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