CHRISTIAN

Lowering the business section of the Seattle Times I was met with a pair of brown eyes that demanded my attention, but I sure as hell wasn't going to give it.

"Your coffee, sir." The barista went out of her way to hand deliver my coffee with a smile. Wipe it off, because you're just embarrassing yourself. I took a glance over at Taylor who was doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement.

I rolled my eyes and went back to reading about China's slowing economy, catching a quiet huff from the woman who thought she stood a chance. It's not her fault. I just don't give chances. Taylor shifted in his chair across from me and took a sip of his steaming black coffee.

"I added three more calls to the log. You're home now. Aren't you the least bit curious?" Taylor tapped his finger on the table, hoping to get a reaction out of me. I didn't bother to look at him.

"Taylor, enough." It was bad enough that I was in the same state of Washington, much less twenty minutes away from the place I can't ever return to.

"They're only going to try harder now that you're here." Taylor didn't think I knew that already.

"Well It's a good thing I have you then, isn't it?" I shook my head and folded up the paper. I couldn't read a damn thing with Taylor filling my head with these thoughts. Taylor smiled into his mug.

"You better fucking believe it. Nothing gets in my way, but that steel and glass tower across the street is one hell of a way to say you're back." Taylor leaned back and made another visual sweep of the coffee shop. He was right; I was back home and I fucking hated it, but I felt the need to be here. Across the street stands Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. A dream of mine since I was fifteen. I spent years living in hell, learning everything I could about politics and economics before cashing in on a trust fund that my grandfather opened for me. I wasn't allowed to touch it until my twentieth birthday, but due to the situation I was in, he changed the stipulations and told me to run with it. So I did. I left in the middle of the night on my eighteenth birthday. I ran as far as I could without leaving so much as a note. I could finally make something of myself. I purchased a couple of startups that quickly grew into self-sustaining companies that I eventually sold for a greater profit. I didn't stop there. I just kept buying and selling until I was able to just buy and buy. I was hungry for success and I didn't stop going until my name was circulating in the business world. I became the big bad wolf in the realm of mergers and acquisitions and I had no problems with blowing your house down. New York City had quickly become my home over the years. I had everything I could have dreamed up, but then it happened. I finally acknowledged something that had been bothering me for the past decade. I ran away. Christian Grey does not run away. I knew there was only one way of fixing this internal battle and as if it couldn't have happened fast enough, I made the move. I bought out a partially constructed building from a developer and put a rush on the deadline. A month later, Grey M&A became Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. I didn't just come back. I am back and It's partially out of spite.

Now a month later in Seattle I suddenly became the 'It Boy'. The media couldn't get enough of a young, good looking billionaire bachelor who was nearly impossible to meet. I put up walls around me and they weren't just for security.

"Though, today is your birth-" Taylor tried to finish.

"I know. It's been ten years." I interrupted.

"You know, I was your age when I started working for you." Taylor quirked an eyebrow with a slight smirk as he reminded me. After ten years, the bastard knew how I felt about him.

"Alright, you have an appointment in half an hour. Let's go boss." I tossed the paper on the table and pushed the mug aside. Straightening out my black Brioni suit, I slipped on my Persol sunglasses and walked out to the warm Seattle sun.

I took a look around, taking in the sights and sounds of the active city. Everyone on autopilot as they focused on who they were talking to on their cell phones. A panhandler asking for change and to 'God Bless'. A delivery truck sorting packages on a dolly for a drop off. I almost missed the chirping sound that gave permission to walk on the crosswalk. Taylor kept up with my pace as always, looking around for potential threats.

Walking through the revolving door I was always thrown into an expansive lobby made of dark marble and steel fixtures. It reflected the building, which was a seamless blend of contemporary design and efficiency.

"Good morning Mr. Grey." The receptionist sitting behind a long black marble desk greeted me. I never broke my stride. Taylor pressed the button to go up the executive elevator and in seconds the doors opened, welcoming us to step through.

"Remind me who I'm meeting with?" I asked Taylor. I had been going through personal assistants left and right since starting in Seattle so I was lacking in the useful reminders. Carrie, my P.A. in New York was the best, but she couldn't move to Seattle, no matter how much I offered her as salary.

"Her name is Andrea Fairchild. HR thinks she might be good for the P.A. position that keeps opening up." Taylor had to turn that into a dig. I looked at him feigning hatred, and I walked out of the elevator as soon as it spit us out onto the twenty fourth floor. Everyone caught sight of me and vanished into their respective offices. Good. Olivia, the coffee maker extraordinaire, was the only one sitting behind the desk that stood adjacent to my office. There was always a look of hope in her eyes and It always bothered me, but firing her now meant another string of blonde predators that might end up being worse than her.

"Sir, Ms. Fairchild is waiting for you." Olivia informed me.

"Send her in." I didn't even bother to look at her. I shut the large heavy doors to my office and sat down behind my desk, leaving Taylor standing outside at his post.

Olivia cracked open the door and slipped through, placing a mug of coffee on the coaster on my desk, leaving quickly as Ms. Fairchild walked through.

"Have a seat Ms. Fairchild." I didn't take my eyes off of what I had in front of me on my desk. So many papers to sign first thing in the morning.

"Thank you for seeing me Mr. Grey, and please, call me Andrea." I looked up at her and she was smiling. Something was different about her. I could usually sniff out the inappropriate ones, but this one reminded me of Carrie. Her professionally cut straight shoulder length blonde hair went well with her gray silk blouse and black pencil skirt. It exemplified the style and attitude that I believed Grey House had. I noticed a ring on her ring finger. Perfect. She looked determined, not at all anxious. I liked her.

"Andrea, I'm reading here that you were an assistant to Howard Sharpman. How was that?" Howard Sharpman was a brutal attorney in Seattle. I know of him because he was always up against my father. My kind of guy. If she could put up with him, she could certainly put up with me.

"The time I spent working for Howard Sharpman was time I spent learning and fine tuning my position as an assistant. Because of my prior work experience with Sharpman, I believe I'm a well rounded candidate. I do what's told. I don't ask stupid questions. I do my homework and I do not play around. I handle pressure well and I never miss a beat. I have no desire to worm my way into your personal life and I take confidentiality seriously." Where's my 'approved' stamp so I can throw it against her forehead?

"You will be expected to get to Grey House before I arrive and leave when appropriate, but I will need you to take care of things as they come up; even if you're out of the office. Scheduling, correspondence and what not. Can you do that?" Please say you can. She was the only one who hasn't eye fucked me the moment they walked through the door which makes her perfect for the job.

"Absolutely." She nodded. I smirked.

"I have one simple rule." Andrea nodded. "No one gets into my office without going through Taylor first. I don't care if It's the President of the United States." Simple enough, right?

"Certainly, Mr. Grey."

"Alright. Taylor will escort you to Human Resources to collect your employment package that will go over your salary and to have you sign the Nondisclosure Agreement. Security will outfit you with an executive floor badge and IT will program your new tablet and cell phone to work alongside my schedule. Included in your company phone will be every contact in our systems, including my own personal contacts. Seeing as HR wouldn't have sent you through without a background check I'll go ahead and say welcome to Grey House Andrea. You start tomorrow morning, seven a.m.." Without shaking her hand I gave her the opportunity to stand up.

"Thank you, Mr. Grey. This is truly an incredible opportunity you have given me." I gave her a small smile and she walked out of my office a little lighter on her feet. That went well.

"Taylor, I'm ready to go." I poked my head out of my office startling Taylor who was in the middle of reading an Anthony Burgess novel. "I'm sure you're eager to continue eye-fucking the new housekeeper." I shook my head with a smirk. I checked for my phone, making sure it was in my breast pocket. I always felt naked without it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He smirked. Taylor was ex-military and was truly unreadable, but after spending ten years with the man, he could never pull one over on me. To my credit, I could read a person pretty well. It's a useful tool in the business world.

Grey House was empty except for the stray security guards that stayed over night. Taylor and I took the elevator down to the parking garage and the two 'beeps' echoing in the cement structure sounded from the black Audi SUV parked in my reserved spot. I took to the back seat while Taylor got behind the wheel. The Audi came to life at the turn of the key and Taylor peeled out. The best perk of living Downtown was that I could be close to Grey House. The to and from home was quick and painless. After a long day the last thing I want to do is wait around in Seattle's traffic. I had done enough of that in New York City.

I could see the gold lettering illuminated by spotlight: 'Escala'. I had been living at Escala for a month now and it was nothing like my penthouse in New York City. Escala was elegant with an artistic flare. It was polished and it made a statement with the use of only three colors: black, gray and white. It had order. With order meant control and with control meant I could rest easy. Any loss of that control would allow something or someone to pull a brick out of the life I so carefully constructed.

Taylor parked the Audi in Bay 2. Bays 1, 3 and 4 were also reserved for the penthouse. Taylor slipped out of the car and I got out, shutting the door while taking a look at my surroundings. Audis, BMWs, a few collectible cars and a Bentley. I was in the right place. Taylor punched in code '3425' and up we went to the thirty first floor.

The smell coming off the elevator was intoxicating and Taylor and I looked at each other and smiled. My last housekeeper in New York City didn't live with me. I didn't want the additional warm body. She only came by to clean, restock the kitchen and prepare meals that were to be reheated by the stove. Taylor and I would usually just throw the meals in the microwave and call it a day.

"Gail." I surprised her. Gail Jones was a little older than Taylor by about two years. Her blonde hair was up in a sleek bun. She carried herself in black form fitting pants and a white collared blouse. To Taylor's standards she was more than attractive and I honestly didn't care if he had wood for her, but no fucking the staff; even if you are staff.

"Mr. Grey. Welcome home. I was just finishing up the honey bacon pork tenderloin. Salad is in the fridge, just need to add the dressing, and the chocolate cake is cooling down before I ice it. Do you like buttercream?" Gail smiled. I couldn't place the feeling, but it wasn't a bad one.

"I do. Thank you Gail. It smells delicious. Taylor, go ahead and help yourself. I'll be right down." Taylor nodded, his attention went back to Gail. I shook my head and started up the suspended stairs to get to my bedroom. As soon as I shut the door I threw off my shoes and took off my jacket, putting them both in my massive walk-in closet that looked like any obsessive compulsive's dream come true.

The usual everyday jeans, t-shirts and sweaters had their places, but when you walked further inside you would find what you see me typically wearing.

White button up shirts were crisp and clean hanging three inches apart in the illuminated closet space. My Tom Ford, Brioni and Valentino suits were suspended with care and had been separated by fabric and color. My shoes, ranging from casual to dress were organized in custom designed shelving. Everything in order. Everything in its place. I threw on a pair of dark jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt, leaving off the socks and made my way down to the kitchen. God, it smelled good. I grabbed my plate out of the warmer and sat at the kitchen island with Taylor who was about finished with his dinner. Most CEOs would never dream of eating with their security, but if Taylor was never there, I would have spent the last ten years eating alone.

"I got another call." Taylor tried to keep his voice from showing any emotion.

"Yeah?" Get on with it Taylor.

"It was Elliot." Taylor put his fork down on his plate. I'm surprised my family hasn't given up. It must be some sort of 'thing' they did to keep the hope alive that I would some day answer.

"Taylor…"

"Alright, but remember that Elliot and Mia are innocent in all of it." Fucking Christ, Taylor. I threw my fork down, clanking against the plate. I lost my appetite.

"You don't think I know that?" I ran my hand through my messy head of hair that many say looks dark copper.

"I wasn't trying to tell you what I think you do or don't know. I'm not here to guilt trip you." Taylor said in surrender.

"I get it Taylor. If I let one in then who's to say it stops at that. I'm not willing to put myself in that position."

Thirteen years ago I was sexually assaulted multiple times by a teacher at my prep school in Bellevue. She taught history and happened to be my mother's close friend. I wasn't your typical teenager. I didn't know how to socialize and I fought, a lot. Many could say I was capable of defending myself since I was more than willing to pick a fight, but no one understood the position I was put in. Mrs. Lincoln didn't look like your typical teacher. She skated around what was appropriate in class. Her appearance and her actions were questionable at best, but it was overlooked because of her social standing in the community. I was a gifted student, but never cared to apply myself. I was bored, angry and out of control. It was a perfect storm that made me the perfect target.

It started out with playful touching, turning into suggestive come-ons that led to the touching that I still try to scrub off of me in the shower. I never misled the woman, but it didn't stop her from trying to get what she wanted from me. Every Tuesday I was asked to stay behind in class so she could do everything with me other than intercourse and every time I told her I was going to tell someone, she would laugh and say that she 'would just make it look like rape'. With my reputation, I couldn't risk it. Whenever she had me I was mentally absent and obviously not aroused. My body didn't register anything as pleasure. It frustrated her because she wanted to go further, but it didn't stop her from doing things to me that I've spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on therapists to get out of my head. I tried staying home on the days I knew she'd ask me to stick around. My parent's caught on to me. Mrs. Lincoln pulled me aside and threatened to report me for infractions if I stopped seeing her. This went on for a few months until I snapped. I couldn't do it anymore. I told my parents everything, but they didn't think I had an honest bone in my body. They chose that woman over me, citing that my anger issues and irresponsibility were to blame for a fabricated story that would be damaging to a career. I had lost their trust countless times before, but this wasn't cheating on an exam or giving someone a black eye; a teacher preyed on me for months. Because of the situation, I changed schools immediately and my parents never brought Mrs. Lincoln around the house after that. Though, they were still in the same social circles meaning that they still talked with one another. I thought about emancipating myself or straight up running away, but I needed to play it smart. I spent my remaining years at home getting ready to leave. The moment the clock struck midnight and I turned eighteen, I left and I never went back.

These phone calls that I get come from my first cell phone that I got when I was sixteen. They never turned the number off and I never threw the phone away. It was the last string I wasn't ready to cut and honestly, I didn't entirely want to. I gave Taylor the job of entering the calls into a call log. Maybe one day I might want to look through it. It's a hefty leather bound book he keeps in the security office. The number, caller, date and message are recorded and to this day I haven't stolen a glance, because...fuck them.

"This reminds me. You have your first appointment with Dr. Flynn tomorrow. Last time I play personal assistant." Taylor shook his head. I meant to schedule an appointment with Dr. John Flynn as soon as I arrived in Seattle. My therapist in New York City, Dr. Tressler, referred me to him. It was important for me to have the first meeting, because it would be one of many.

"Mr. Grey, wonderful to meet you." Dr. John Flynn was a stately man with an english accent. His office looked like a smoking parlor, complete with green wing back chairs and dark wood furniture. I took a seat on the brown leather couch and crossed my right leg over my left. Let's see what this guy's got.

"I appreciate you seeing me on short notice. I wanted to get the ball rolling." I took another look around the room. Therapy sessions always had me on edge.

"No problem at all. So, I received your files from Dr. Tressler. I looked through them thoroughly and I've come to conclude that we still have some work to do." Yeah, that's why I'm here. "Tell me, why did you come back to Seattle?" Dr. Flynn took out his yellow legal pad and clicked his pen, letting the ink flow. I thought about his question for a moment. I couldn't come up with something that would make me look like I was thinking with absolute clarity. I just looked at him and shrugged. Maybe something would come to me in a moment. "I don't know you personally Christian, but from your files I feel like I can make a quick assumption that might stir a thought process. I think you're back because you want to prove something to your family." I thought about that for a moment.

"There's a lot to it." A lot of times during therapy I just wanted to play dead until my hour was up.

"So, what is it then, Christian? There's a reason." He pressed.

"I'm back because if I'm here, I'm not running anymore." I answered. Hm. Okay.

"What is there to run from?" Didn't he say he read my records?

"My family. That woman. Feelings. All of it." I picked at the callous on the palm of my hand.

"What feelings are you talking about, Christian?" He scribbled something on his notepad.

"Hopelessness. Anger. Depression. Exhaustion. Anxiousness. Sadness. Regret" I could go on.

"What is it you feel right now?" Dr. Flynn asked.

"I don't feel anything." I don't.

"How's that possible?"

"Control." I answered.

"You can't possibly control your feelings all of the time, Christian. Surely you have feelings." Dr. Flynn shook his head.

"I have feelings, but I don't indulge in them." Dr. Flynn gave me a strange look and put his note pad down.

"What about romantic relationships? There was nothing specific written down in your files, other than your disinterest in them ." Dr. Flynn looked eager for my explanation.

"I've never had one." I was truthful.

"So they were more of the sexual nature?" Why didn't Dr. Tressler write this shit down?

"No." I took a deep breath and released it.

"I'm not here to judge, Christian."

"Dr. Flynn, I've never had sex before." I watched as Dr. Flynn's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that. Sure, I jack off like three times a day. I have to or else I'd explode.

"Does this have something to do with Mrs. Lincoln?" He guessed.

"I can't bring myself to try anything sexual. I'm afraid I'll lose it." I clenched my fists.

"What if you don't lose it?" He countered. What was he expecting me to do to find out? Go fuck the first woman who throws herself at me? I'd barely make it out of the building.

"Just not now. I have to do this right or not at all." I was antsy to get out of his office.

"Christian, keep your eyes open. Don't limit yourself because of your fears and your successes. I agree that you should take it slow. I'm going to give you a little bit of homework." I know I won't do it, but go right ahead.

"I want you to introduce yourself to a woman you find attractive. Doesn't have to be a date. Doesn't have to be more than an exchanging of names. Just cross that one simple boundary you have set for yourself. Simple enough?" That's easy.

"Yeah, no problem." I nodded.

"Good, because that's just the beginning." Dr. Flynn smiled. "I have a feeling that you and I will get along just fine Christian."

"What about her?" Taylor smiled. It was like he was trying to set me up in an arranged marriage.

"No, I'll know it when I see her." I checked my phone for the time. I had been on my lunch for an hour and a half looking for a woman I find attractive. No one has caught my eye, but I have caught many. Sure, I've seen some pretty women, but nothing special.

"Her?" Taylor had very specific tastes. Skinny, blonde, big tits and a decent ass. That sounded like every woman that has ever hit on me. I need more than that.

"Screw it, I need to get back to Grey House. I'm surprised Andrea hasn't started calling yet." The past two days Andrea had lived up to her expectations. I felt comfortable leaving things in her hands. She could think on her feet and take my shit with a smile on her face. I followed Taylor to the Audi and got in. It was time to get back to my one and only love… My job.

"Good afternoon Mr. Grey." The woman behind the receptionist desk came out of no where. I didn't bother to return the greeting. They should know by now. I spotted Andrea waiting for the executive elevator with a bag in her hand, presumably lunch.

"Andrea." I nodded. Taylor stood by.

"Hi Mr. Grey. My lifesaver came by to drop off my lunch." She smiled.

"That's fine. Everyth-"

"Andrea!" I turned around to face the interruption. Running towards us without a care in the world was a brunette with loose bouncing curls and a beautiful smile. "I forgot the keys." She laughed. I studied her. Where were the imperfections? I needed to find one. Anything to keep me from grazing over her stunning body covered in dark fitted denim and a baby blue pleated cami that made her big blue eyes impossibly bluer. I must have been stunned because Taylor cleared his throat to snap me out of my staring.

"Oh, God, sorry. That was part of the reason you walked all this way. Alex would have been so pissed at me."

"Alex?" I asked Andrea.

"My husband." Andrea said with a smile.

"My brother." The beautiful woman said, dangling the keys in her hand, about to say her goodbyes. I needed to know who she was.

"I'm sorry, I'm Christian Grey, and you are?" I asked, ignoring Taylor's light chuckle.

"Anastasia Steele." I shook my head for a moment, I got lost in her smile. I looked up at Taylor who nodded in approval. "I should get going. Kate expected me fifteen minutes ago. It was nice to meet you Christian Grey." I felt my lip twitch when she used my full name and not the formality.

"You as well, Ms. Steele." She looked at me funny and then turned around, leaving the way she came in. Andrea cleared her throat and I turned to face her. Her smile was telling.

"That's your sister-in-law?" I asked Andrea. Something is telling me to dig.

"Yeah. Her brother and I got married last year." Andrea was looking through her phone.

"Are you two close?" I asked. I didn't even bother to look at Taylor. The elevator door opened and I kept my pace with Andrea. I caught Olivia trying to run behind her desk to pretend that she was hard at work.

"Very. Why?" She looked at me curiously.

"I just like to know who comes in to Grey House is all. Reschedule all of my meetings." I continued to my office, Taylor trailed behind me. I took off my coat and hung it up in the small closet in the corner, taking a seat in my chair.

"I already sent Barney an email to forward you Anastasia's background check." Taylor chuckled.

"Way to assume." I pulled up my email. Nothing yet. That was aggravating.

"I think you chose the topic of your homework assignment wisely. Now what are you going to do about it?" I thought about it. I know nothing about women. Just that they can't seem to act appropriately around me. I've never gone out on a date. The closest to a conversation that I've had with a woman in the past ten years was just outside with Andrea. I'm way out of my league.

"I need more information. Until then, she's out of my mind." Taylor rolled his eyes and left my office.

I probably refreshed my email a million times since I sat down at my desk. It was nearing three in the afternoon when I finally got the background check on Anastasia from Barney.

Name: Anastasia Rose Steele

D.O.B.: September 10, 1989

Address: 1408 12th Ave. Unit 307 Seattle, WA 98122

Employment: Seattle Independent Publishing, Commissioning Editor

Father: Raymond Steele

Mother: Carla May Wilks

Sexual Orientation: None Specified

Relationship Status: No Known Relationships

Education: Washington State University- Vancouver, Major: English Literature

Savings: $12,203.44

Telephone: (206) 611-3132 Carrier: Northwest Wireless

Where was the rest of it?

"Taylor, this is only a partial background check." I would expect it to be a lot more detailed.

"That's not a bad thing. She doesn't lead a very colorful life, that's all." Hm. Ms. Steele is low key. That could either mean she's very discrete or she really has no life outside of work and home. I'm intrigued. I leaned back in my chair and looked up at the white ceiling. What to do, what to do?

"Taylor, we need to arrange a run in. I think I'm going to go for a little extra credit."

A/N: Hi Everyone! So this is a change, huh? I would love to get your thoughts. I'll be updating soon. :D

Thank you for reading. :)