(Author's Note posted below)

Chapter 1

Life

I guess we dream because there is something so addictive about wanting something that's not ours yet. The hopes of getting it someday give us the courage to wake up thanking God that we are alive. No matter how many times you've fallen down you still rise because to dream is all we know.

To dream is to hope and to hope is to live.

If it weren't for my dream, I wouldn't be standing in front of Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. with my heart on my sleeve. Dressed in the only presentable attire I have for the job interview, I keep my head up high with my feet on the ground. I hope that this is it—this is the moment when I take the first step towards living the dream.

What is my dream?

Stability. Not just for me but for my mother as well. She's all I have in this life.

My feet take the bravest steps towards the entrance of the elegant yet simple building. The aura inside smelled like success. Everybody has serious faces and it's all about business: men were carrying their briefcases while giving dry small talks, women strut their expensive suit and high heels as if the lobby was a catwalk, some just chit chat, and others were giving their best in making a first great impression.

I belong to the last group of people.

"Good morning Ma'am! I am here to apply for a position in the Human Resources Department," I give the receptionist my most professional smile but she clearly isn't struck about it.

With pursed lips and uninterested eyes she told me, "Just fill out the information needed in the log sheet and we'll just call your name."

"Sure! Thank you!"

After doing what she instructed I sit in one of the leather sofas and count the number of people applying for the same position. Some are shaking while some look extremely confident. They look ready to be hired and a little part of me gets insecure. Little part.

The bigger part of me believes that I will get a job in the department. I've majored in Human Resources in college and I've done my best to get cum laude despite the circumstances that life threw at me. I believe that I deserve this.

One hour, two hours, and three hours have passed and still my name hasn't been called. People come and go inside the office ushered by an immaculate-looking employee and I am feeling bored. I've practiced my "me in 30 seconds" for a hundred times already. My stomach grumbles and that reminds me that I haven't eaten breakfast yet.

I check my wallet and I only have ten dollars. My thoughts drift back four hours ago.

"Ana, come on. Just take the money, okay? I am going to be fine. You don't have to worry about me," Mom insists pushing the one hundred dollars to my refusing hand.

"Mom, I know you're hungry so just keep it, okay? I'll be fine. This job application gave me a loss of appetite."

"Are you sure? I'll find a way to eat. As long as you are full th—"

"Mom, I'm full." I lie.

Realizing that I need to put something inside my stomach, I find the pantry which is located in the second floor. I'd really like a slice of those cakes but ten dollars is not enough. The only item I can afford is an orange juice which costs $9.50 and I keep telling myself that as long as you don't get dehydrated then you are not going to die. It's okay to run out of food but drinks, especially water, should never run out.

I rush back to the lounge since I fear that my name has already been called and I have missed an opportunity. I half-run to the ground floor and my head's looking out for the intimidating woman who ushers us applicants that I don't notice someone bumping into my way.

Just like Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant's scene in Notting Hill I spill the orange juice right to the man's suit and the whole place turns silent with tension.

I am too astounded to move. The man is too. I look into his eyes and find myself shrinking in fear.

He is extremely handsome but those wondrous physical traits I overlook since anger is consuming his whole being. His long fingers rake through his copper hair and grey eyes scream

I look down and the orange juice just did a fantastic job. It formed a map figure and even his grey pants are wet. The plastic cup is on the floor all surrounded by the droplets of orange juice.

I come back to my senses. I finally escape my immobilized state.

"Oh my God! I am so sorry Sir! I am really sorry!" I grab a handkerchief from my old shoulder bag and desperately wipe the mess I've created. I am panicking! I wipe all the way down. I pause. It's on his crotch right now.

"OH MY GOD! I'M SORRY!" This time it's louder. I retrieve my hand quickly and it's almost as if I've turned into a human tomato. I brace myself for an extraordinary amount of anger. I'm slowly shrinking and there's no one there to help.

Five seconds . . .

Four . . .

Three . . .

Two . . .

One . . .

He still hasn't said any word.

I take the courage to look right at his face and his expression has changed. Somehow it softened and his lips are fighting a smirk. He eyes me from head to toe with an unreadable expression.

"Sir, what do you want us to do?" asks the middle-aged man by his side.

"Just leave her alone, Taylor." He answers with a smooth voice but his eyes never leaving my face.

"Uhm . . . okay Sir."

The handsome man with such admirable posture questions, "Do you work here?"

I whisper loud enough for him to here, "I am hoping to."

"An applicant," he mutters to himself.

"I'm really sorry again, Sir. I didn't mean to spill the juice and touch your—"

"Touch my what?" The smirk wins now.

"Your . . . crotch." I whisper like sin slipping out between my lips.

He doesn't say any word. He just grins before stepping out of my sight. I watch him walk all the way to the elevator with the man named Taylor accompanying him. I am still looking down the floor and when I look to his direction, he is still looking at me. He keeps on staring with such an intriguing expression and he'd go on with it forever if the elevator door just didn't close.

Suddenly I can breathe again. The world around me starts moving and going back to normal.

The janitor starts to clean the mess I've made.

"Sir, I will clean it. I am the one who created that and—"

"Dear, this is my job." He's a kind man.

"Uhm . . . who was that man?"

"You don't know him? You're applying here and you don't know him?"

"Why should I know him?"

"He's Christian Grey, the owner of the company."

Shit!

I am screwed. There's no way I will be able to pass this job interview. I think about going home since I just did the most embarrassing thing to the biggest of all big bosses. Yes, I dream but realistically speaking I just did a great offense and it cost me my chance.

Just when I am about to leave the dry girl from the reception calls out my name, "Anastasia Rose Steele".

She calls it out for four times and I go near her.

"Ma'am, I think I need to leave now."

"Miss Steele, Mr. Grey is waiting for you."

I cannot breathe again. "What?"

"He just called in to inform us that he's the one to interview you. It's the first time, really. The recruiters should do the interviewing but yes, the boss wants to talk to you."

"Uhm . . ."

The girl whose role is an usher to all of us appears beside me and says, "Follow me, Miss Steele."

How did I get here?

Author's Note:

Hello guys! Thank you for reading my story. Now here are the major changes:

1. No BDSM

2. No Elena

I hope you are okay with that. Christian's still the same CEO he is.

What can you say about the chapter? Reviews make me happy.

Margo