Hi guys! This is my first Fifty Shades fanfic (Ohh, the nerves!) so my apologies if it's not really good. Most of my works are first drafts so expect to find some mistakes (Plus English is not my language, so there is that.)
Anyways, I decided to create this story because one day I thought, "Hey! Wouldn't it be cool to read a fanfic with Ana as the millonaire?" Just out of the blue, that's how my mind works. But turns out there aren't too many stories like this (btw if you guys know about one, could you let me know?) so here is my attempt at one, i hope it doesn't suck. Ok, I'll shut up now! :P
"No, wait," Aiden shuffles in his closet drawer looking again for another tie for me to try on. We have tried all five of mine, all to no avail; they were too tacky, one of them even had ducks in it, a present from my little sister Kenya. No tie bought in a Wal-Mart discount could ever be good enough for an interview with a millionaire, so I started trying Aiden's instead.
I wait patiently still by his bedroom door, the squeaking floor board complains every time I shift my weight from one leg to the other, trying very hard not to show my crappy mood. It's not his fault I'm in this position, and for what is worth, Aiden has even more reasons than me to be miserable.
As a senior Journalist student, an interview with the young millionaire Anastasia Steele would have been the perfect opportunity for Aiden to start his career on a good foot once he graduated, especially at his age. Despite my best friend's intelligence and dedication, Aiden had always felt badly for starting to pursue his passion "too late".
Instead of having graduated like me at the age of twenty two, Aiden was now in his senior year at twenty seven and a day didn't go by without him recriminating himself for starting college after taking four sabbatical years. Nevermind that he had the best average of his class or that he already had two job offers waiting for him when he finished in a few months, no, he always felt as if he was in disadvantage with his younger classmates, as if a few years apart would make a huge difference.
Though if I'm being honest, considering how things are going with the economy right now he's not entirely wrong. People are always hiring young and fresh-out of college instead of more experienced workers due to their age, funny enough when someone young now tries to find a job they are put aside because they are looking for someone with experience. Basically what you need today to get a job is be young and somehow have five years of working experience. Or, of course having a rich family or decent connections and you are good to go.
"Why don't you try this one on? It'll go better with the suit." He hands me a black, silk tie with thin grey stripes in a shiny material. I tie it on in the only knot I know how to do since, except for prom or a friend's wedding, I have never had the need to use one. As a college teacher in a low budget position, I go dressed like any other student, with a pair of black trousers or jeans, a shirt and my leather jacket.
After adjusting the tie better around my neck, I stand in front of the mirror to examine the result; slightly better but not good enough for a meeting with a freaking millionaire.
For fuck's sake, I'm wearing a rent suit that Aiden had to pay for me since I haven't still gotten my last paycheck. He insisted that, since I was going to this meeting because of him then he would pay for it, even though I had promised to pay him back when I got my money. Still, Aiden worked part-time in a computing store and his salary was pretty much like my own, crappy. We had rented a suit we could afford, one of the cheapest in the store and the low quality of the cotton fabric was evident even to me. It had fit me well enough, though it was a tad too large for me, and I could just imagine sitting in front of this powerful woman (if I was even allowed to go near her dressed as I was) and her examining me like the loser I am.
For some reason, every time I tried to picture his woman the first thing that came to mind was Sigourney Weaver in Working Girl, complete with shoulder pads and ridiculous hair. I imagined her sitting on a large room next to a fireplace (why there would be a fireplace in her office is beyond me though) sitting on a single red chair, nursing a cup of wine as she picked on my crappy suit, examined it closely and laughed out loud at the idiot who is wasting her time. She'll probably eat me alive.
"It looks better." Aiden says appreciatively and I scowl. I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not, spending the entire night awake reading everything Aiden gave me about this woman had left me tired and just wanting for this entire day to be over so I could go back to my crappy days teaching by day and studying at nights, forever forgetting this fucking interview where I would make a fool of myself.
"Sure, whatever." I say, turning around and checking the hour on the worn out TV. Five o'clock, I should get going if I ever want to get there in time.
"Dude, I'm telling you, you can't even notice it's a rented suit, you look great! You got the questions I gave you?"
"Yeah," I pick up my trusty black briefcase, the only good quality thing I own, and check the papers inside, everything is in place, from the questions he gave me to the paperwork I had to do to change the interview to my name.
"Everything good." I try to make my voice sound confident but fail miserably.
"Are you sure you want me to do this?" It's a stupid question, we both know it but it's not just the meeting with the entrepreneur that has my nerves on edge. This was supposed to be his opportunity, Aiden's chance to change his good résumé to a great one, what if I screw this up? I'm nothing but a fucking Economy professor, what on earth could I know about journalism? Talking to people for me is easy, but she is no ordinary person; graduated at the age of twenty two, Anastasia Rose Steele had left DC university as a rich woman after gaining a millionaire contract with the military thanks to her research on camouflage make up for the troupes. Now she works for several projects, most of them classified, and has created a fortune of fifteen million dollars two years after leaving university.
"C'mon now, you'll do great just stick to the questions I gave you, record everything and you'd have saved my ass."
"As usual." I retort, flinching when he is taken again by a fit of coughs that has him bended over the bed. I can't fail him.
"Ok, you go to bed, get some sleep, I'll get the interview done."
I grab my briefcase and head to the door.
"Wish me luck." I say with sarcasm, not even God could help me not to screw this up.
After a fit of cough I hear his response, "Good luck dude, thanks again!"
Despite the rented suit, at this time of the day in DC the best way I've got to get to the interview downtown is going on my motorbike, I just hope it doesn't start raining. Putting my helmet on I began my journey through the city, the jams and heavy traffic streets were of no trouble as I squeezed through the little holes and patches with ease, after seven years living here you learn to adapt and I can relax, watching the streets go by in a blur of speed.
I got to the building after fifteen minutes, a twenty-story construction of modern design. The main gates were two huge panels of glass connected to steel rails that opened with ease to a large reception area with black, tilted floors that gave the place an air of seriousness that convinced me I would be kicked out the second I put my foot in there.
I secured my motorbike on the side of the street, and storage the helmet inside the seat. On the small mirror I made sure my hair was not too much of a mess before heading inside.
I knew from the research Aiden had given me to read that this was not the actual place where Miss Steele worked but rather a conglomerated of offices where she encountered potential customers, held business meetings, that sort of affairs. But still, if this was just a place she had to meet people, I could only imagine what her workplace would be like.
"Can I help you, Sir?" A neat, middle aged woman behind the huge wooden main desk asked as I approached her. There was place for two assistants, this kind woman and a younger, blonde one who was on the phone and typing on the computer, and whose eyes drifted away from me the second our gaze met. A pink blush grew on her cheeks when she refocused on her work.
"Yes, I have an appointment with Miss Anastasia Steele?" I took out the papers, that after the ride had gotten a little crumpled and she read them carefully, examining one after the other until she got to my identification, she typed the security number on her computer and handed it back to me.
"Very well Mr. Grey, Miss Steele will be waiting for you in her office." She pointed to a point behind me. "Take any of the elevators up to the fifteenth floor, her personal secretary will be waiting for you there, and he will lead you to her." The woman explained kindly.
"Alright," I nodded. "Thank you Miss." I headed over to the opposite walls where five metal doors were waiting. I chose the closest one and it opened to reveal a large and polished white interior. The elevator ride was rather fast, so fast that I checked twice to see if I had gotten the floor right. Our apartment elevator took like two minutes to go from the first floor to our third one and doing a rackety sound all the way through.
When I stepped outside, it's like I entered another building all together, there is another waiting room but this time more colorful, the windows that go from floor to ceiling allow all the light in, the cream-colored floor makes the space much larger and confortable. There are sofas of a simple design displayed around small round tables for people to sit comfortably in. There is already someone waiting, a young blonde woman dressed casually but with good quality clothes, probably a business associate?
I sat next to a window as I waited, hoping the beautiful view will help me calm my nerves. It's just an interview, I told myself, ask a few questions, record everything and get the hell out of it.
I started to go through my papers again, making sure everything was in order when a bright light caught my eye and I lifted my head quickly, only to find the room unchanged. I could swear that was a camera´s flash but all I see is the blonde girl who is completely oblivious to anything beyond her phone.
"Mr grey?" A man's deep voice calls my name and I stand, a bit too quickly to appear calmed, and find a dark man in a black suit waiting for me in the middle of the room.
"Eh, yes, that's me." I don't sound too sure.
He only nods. "Miss Steele will see you now."