Wow! I received lots of great reviews. Thank you! The biggest question was why would Christian be bartending, with Elliot going along with it? Ah, bear with me. I would never leave you hanging. All will be revealed. I write for fun, stress relief, and practice. I do not receive any money from it, just the reward of being creative.
I do not own any part of the Fifty Shades Trilogy; it all belongs to the phenomenal E. .
Average Joe
Chapter 2
CPOV
I am so irritable. The Australian deal I'm working on is a ball buster. All my charms, all my CEO confidence, are not enough to vanquish these fuckers. It's time to break out the big balls. I place a call to Ros, my second in command, and discuss our options. Backing out is not an option. I didn't get my reputation in mergers and acquisitions by backing down. I offered quite a lot for this shipyard, more than I usually would, as it was family owned and run for almost sixty years. Now the present owner and CEO are looking to retire. The company is floundering, and he has nobody to pass it along to. Out of respect for its history I made a more than generous offer, only to be shot down. I do wonder if it's just hard for him to part with it, but it is business. That will teach me to try to be nice and compassionate. Don't waste my time with this sentimental shit. Geez I really need a new sub! Hopefully whatever little tasty treat Elena is introducing me to tonight pans out. I need to get laid. There is only so many times I can spar with Claude before it just doesn't help relieve the tension. Sometimes I just need the sight of some cute brown haired girl tied up and attached to a spreader bar, moaning "Please Sir" as I spank her ass into a lovely deep shade of pink to make things right in my world again.
My phone rings bringing me out of my lovely thoughts of canes and floggers. I don't need to check who it is before answering.
"Yes Elena. What is it?"
"Oh Christian you're just too cranky! Why didn't you tell me it was this bad? I would have subbed for you in a heartbeat, you know that."
"You have mentioned it before- and again- not interested. Now get to it." I snap at her. The thought of her subbing for me again makes me ill. I'm not sure why, but Mrs. Elena Lincoln has been on my last nerve lately. I should be kinder to her, as she is the one who provides my subs. It just makes my life that much easier. She knows my tastes, and respects my need for anonymity, and has always come through. We are also in business together. It comes as no surprise that Esclava is making a decent profit. She has my mother and sister as regular clients, and in turn all of Seattle Society. She is after all an old family friend. Old. The word used in relation to Elena Lincoln makes me smile. She's my parents' age or thereabout. I guess she is considered "old" by today's standards. You would never know it though. I swear the woman is half plastic and fillers. Elena's heavy sigh brings me back to the moment. This woman keeps interrupting my thoughts. Get on with it already. Damn, I am cranky!
"Ok Christian I can tell you're desperate. As planned, Candy will meet you at the bar tonight. She'll be sure to give Taylor her NDA as well as her list of hard and soft limits, before she enters the bar. You can't miss her, as she's your usual preference: brown hair, thin frame, et cetera. She will arrive sometime around eleven, eleven thirty. If she is agreeable, she can start right away for you. She has experience so you can get right to it."
"Sounds like a plan. I will tell Taylor to expect her." I say anxious to end this conversation.
"Be sure to call or email me tomorrow; let me know if she worked out for you."
"Sure thing Elena." I hang up before she can add anymore to the conversation.
Before I put my phone down, I call Elliot. "Hey, do you have plans tonight?"
"Nothing concrete, why? What's up?"
"Come on over to The Slipknot tonight, I'm behind the bar."
"That sounds like a plan. I'll be there. Tell the kitchen I want wings and beer! Is Jason tagging along?"
"Of course, he's my head of security, and the kitchen always has wings and beer ready for you. I'm wondering how many of the girls you've banged in the past and never called again will be there?"
"Shut the fuck up dude! I will be there around eleven. Bye jerk."
"Bye Lelliot." I can't stop myself from laughing. Well at least I'm in a better mood now.
Back at Escala, I have a quick but intense workout, and damn, for a man in his late thirties, Jason Taylor can really give me a run for my money. I'm glad he's on my payroll. After a shower, a delicious chef's salad prepared by Mrs. Jones, and some emails I managed to divert to other members of my team, Taylor and I are off to the bar.
It's just a few minutes after eleven when we pull up to the back of The Slipknot. I acquired it a few years back to save it from closing, as it was a favorite night spot of Elliot's. After a complete overhaul, it has become the most successful pub in Seattle. Of course, it's because I'm the owner.
I make my way through the kitchen, saying hello to the staff and making sure they have wings ready for Elliot and Taylor. I make my way to the bar with Taylor where he makes himself at home in the corner. I hand him a Bud and let him know the kitchen will bring him out some wings when they are ready. He's there for my protection, but it is mostly just a formality as nobody knows who I am. I have always been careful to hide my face in public so there are no really recognizable pictures of my face out there. I also don't do interviews as a rule, so my persona is basically a mystery, just how I like it. When I leave my apartment, I try to alternate vehicles so the paparazzi don't catch on. To them I'm just a resident where Christian Grey resides. To the patrons, I am just 'Chris the Bartender'. I enjoy the nights I come in to tend bar. I enjoy my anonymity, and pretending to be just an average Joe. No hostile take overs, no having the weight of forty thousand peoples' jobs on my shoulders, no major responsibility. I find it quite relaxing. I also have taken all the profits from the nights I'm "working", as well as any tips I receive, and have donated it all to Coping Together, the charity I founded with my parents. Its goal was to help addicts or people who came from a violent background get back on track. Of course, after paying my employees and giving them each a bonus from my own pocket as an added "Thank you" for their discretion, and signing their NDA's no questions asked. See, I'm not a total prick. Life is so much easier when people just do what I say. Elliot calls my playing bartender "slumming". Whatever, he's such a little shit sometimes. I get to have a somewhat relaxing night just hanging out with my brother who I usually keep at arm's length. It usually doesn't last long as my big brother is a complete whore, and quickly finds his flavor of the night, leaving me to people watch on my own. On average see at least two women he's tapped on the nights we come to The Slipknot.
El arrives at exactly eleven twenty five, and gives a quick scan of the crowd as he makes his way to me. I raise an eyebrow at him, to which he replies quite relieved,"Nope, I didn't bump into any."
"Hello Elliot. Back already?"
Elliot just palms his face. "I forgot she works here. Christian why do you have to hire such hot chicks, especially the other bartenders? It's difficult enough to control myself when I'm sober, let alone when I'm drinking, to not turn on the 'Elliot' charm."
I roll my eyes at him as I'm wiping down some glasses. "So it's my fault you're a slut?"
"Hey, just because you're celibate or gay or a virgin or whatever the hell is up with you, don't be hatin' the player. Hate the game! Seriously, I don't know how you can resist the women that come in here. They practically throw themselves at you, along with their bras, and panties, and phone numbers…"
"Believe what you want El. These drunk, foolish women do nothing for me. The way they whore around, I find it disgusting. They need a good spanking and to be taught some class." The serious tone I was trying to implement just fell flat as we crack up. "I'm really just afraid of getting your sloppy seconds!"
What he doesn't know is that a couple of my ex-subs show up once in a while, hoping to re-sign with me. Of course when that happens, I am livid and put into a very bad mood, but feel better when I see Taylor escorting them out, right about the same time he's reminding them of the consequences of violating their NDA's.
Deep inside, I wish I could be a normal twenty eight year old man. Have normal relationships. Have normal dates. But the truth is: I don't deserve it. I don't deserve to be loved, and I'm certain I'm not anyway. I'm so fucked up; no women would want me regardless. Having an attractive face, strong body and billions of dollars allows me to have companionship on my own terms. No relationship. No emotions. Just fucking, just my full dominance and power. And I have been trained well. I am a dark, sick bastard, who doesn't know any other way. I have resigned myself to this truth. I'm still however, not as bad or twisted as some other Dom's out there I've met.
I look up to speak to El, but he's already gone, having just given the look and nod to another unsuspecting female. She's as good a prey as a baby zebra. She's attractive like they all are, but she just does nothing for me. None of them ever did. I suddenly feel this jolt of energy. Like my heart started beating double time. What the hell? I'm healthy as a horse, what is going on? My rising panic interrupted by Molly, the female bartender who is working tonight, and the recipient of Elliot's attention for one night and over breakfast a couple of weeks ago. I tried to warn her, but…
"Hey Chris, can you help this douche bag over here? He's weirding me out. He won't stop hitting on me and trying to grab me."
"Of course Molly, I'll handle it. Or him," I smile. Molly is a good egg. She's a smart, nice, attractive girl. She's a redhead, has several tattoos, too much makeup, a lip piercing, and a very nice body. She is not my type of course, and besides, I don't screw around with staff - no matter the business. I turn to handle this loser when I am struck by another jolt. Now I see why. She is the most beautiful girl I think I have ever seen. Small, brown hair, blue eyes, make-up and clothes kept simple. My dick actually twitches. What am I, twelve? Actually, I wonder if she is the new sub Elena was sending over. She fits my preference perfectly, she even seems submissive. Why the hell is she talking and flirting with this asshole? My would- be subs usually sit alone, quietly, and wait for me to approach them. Well let's say hello, and see where this goes, shall we?
"What can I get for you?"
"Two Buds please" Well he said please, I will give him that.
"And for you Miss?" Flash those pearly whites Grey…No way she is a beer drinker. She looks like she should be sipping a fine wine, dressed in La Perla.
She is just staring at me. I have seen it before. Damn, she is so beautiful! I have to get her away from this fool. "May I get you anything else beautiful?" She still doesn't respond. Yep, she's mine, hook, line, and sinker.
"Miss? May I get you anything" Good, the asshole took a phone call and is distracted; the perfect time to work my charm.
She is adorable. She makes a joke to cover her embarrassment over her stunned response. There is no way she's my possible sub, a true shame. I want her - sub or not. I have to have her. I have an overwhelming desire to want to protect her from this dick, to spoil her. Oh and that little laugh! I have to hear it again! She's killing me between the giggles, that cute beyond words way she blushes and now that lip biting. Fuck. Me. I have to get her to come back here. I have to see her again. I know she wants me. I am so intrigued by this one. She's…different. We make a little small talk, flirt, and just as I thought, she is a wine drinker. She points out her friend, and sure enough, it's Blondie who's nose to nose with Elliot. This gets better and better. If Elliot doesn't screw her friend over, I will be able to come up with excuses to be able to see her. Everything is going extremely well when I hear," I am interested in SIP, but Grey House? Are you serious? I would be so overwhelmed and insecure. I don't know anything about THE Christian Grey, but from what I understand he's a douche. I heard he can be quite mean especially too inept employees and has a temper that has yet to see it's equal. Great head for business but the personality just isn't there. I don't know…Let me get through final exams and graduation first!" My reputation precedes me. I suddenly feel embarrassed and ashamed. Am I really that terrible? It never before bothered me that I was not well liked; until now. I smile, but it does not reach my eyes and I'm certain she can tell. At least she is still flirting with me and agrees to come back when her friend's ridiculous band plays here. Apparently the manager booked them for next Friday. I'm as giddy as a school boy at the thought of seeing her again!
She's excused herself... Why do I want her to stay? The thought of her walking away is killing me! But hot damn! She has an amazing ass! I quickly look at Taylor and I see he is already on the phone. I love that my security can read my mind. I know he is speaking to Welch and finding out all he can about my Ana. My Ana? Get it together Grey.
"Damn bro! Those are two of the hottest women I have ever seen! What's the brunette's name?"
"That's Ana. Anastasia Steele." Taylor interjects, and I swear he is like the fly on the wall. He's always there even if you don't see him. "The blonde is Kate. Katherine Kavanagh. The two of them are roommates, and best friends, and both single." Taylor says the last sentence like a gossipy teenage girl. Yes, it's time to cut him off. No more beer! Normally I'd be seething at his behavior, but I really found it hysterical and can barely control my laughter, especially when Elliot is bent over in hysterics. My large grin tells them I'm enjoying this outburst of humor. "Their plan is to continue being roommates when they move to Seattle in the very near future. Sir, you have actually done business with Ms. Kavanagh's father." Oh back to 'Serious Taylor' mode? It just makes it even funnier. Yes, the Christian Grey can possess a sense of humor; just don't get too used to it.
"Ahhh, yes! I thought the name sounded familiar. Thanks Taylor. I will want a full report in the morning. Also make sure the band playing next week is fully vetted." Did I just say 'Thanks'? Well, I meant it. Taylor is a stellar employee. More than that, I think I can actually even categorize him as 'friend'.
A still giggling Elliot wipes the tears from his laughter off his eyes and shakes his head, as if he's trying to get his thoughts back on track. "Kate's different man, I really like her. Not just to bring her home to fuck, but to just, well, bring her home. She's amazing; sexy, smart, spunky. Well shit, why am I talking to you?"
I am just forming an intelligent response to my brothers declaration of puppy love, when I am interrupted and can no longer ignore 'Señor Asshole' who is snapping his fingers at me, and banging his empty bottle of Bud on the bar. So I just say, "I'm really happy for you Elliot, I am. I have to deal with this prick though, he's been a real asshole to Molly, and he's been hitting on Ana. Hold on." First I look at Taylor, and give him the "I've got this" look. His shoulders lower, he takes a deep breath, and takes his seat back in the corner to eat his wings. However, he does not take his eyes off of me or the customer. I know Taylor has my back. As badly as I want to kick this guy's ass, I know I have to be presentable as an "employee". However, I know Taylor; dickhead just landed on his watch list.
I have to force a smile and use every ounce of my training in self-control to unclench my fingers and not punch his face in when 'Douche man' orders two vodka and cranberry juice, pays quickly, and doesn't tip. Why am I not surprised? I watch him chat with three other guys he is clearly friends with, when I see one of the other men hand him something, I can't tell what it is. It's got to be drugs of some kind, I'm not stupid. Why is he putting it in the drink? Odd…Elliot distracts me by saying he's going back to talk to Kate, who just finished talking to Ana. Where'd she go? Oh great, back to that shithead. Wait…what the fuck? What's with the hands all of a sudden? Ana really looks very uncomfortable. Did prick number two just pretend to fuck Ana from behind? Oh shit. No!
"Elliot! Taylor!" I'm screaming as I jump over the bar, make my way to the small group, and punch that fucker right in the nose. I have scared her, she's yelling at me. That's fine baby girl, you scream at me all you want, just so long as it keeps that drink away from those luscious lips. I quietly remove the drink from her hands.
How could she be so careless? Accepting a drink from someone she doesn't know, where she can't see it opened or mixed? I'm furious with her ignorance, but more so with this rapist at my feet. I look down at him, and out of instinct, Elliot grabs my arms to keep me from pounding this piece of shit into the floor. I assure him I am going to destroy him, but not with my hands.
I crouch down close, so I'm sure he hears me loud and clear, my rage barely being kept in check. "You have no idea who I am. You have no idea what power I yield. But I swear you will know exactly who I am and you will think of me every day as you and your buddies rot in jail, getting raped every day, just like you planned to do to this amazing, beautiful woman. And God knows how many other times you've done it without getting caught. I am going to obliterate you. Say goodbye to your life as you know it; your freedom, your job, your money, friends and family. You are finished. I hope you rot in hell" Even if he and his buddies walk away with a slap on the wrist, I somehow know Taylor and Welch already know who they are and are blackballing them as we speak.
Now to educate Ana about men like this. I pull her aside, I'm clearly angry and she is clearly very upset and a little confused. As I explain the reality of the situation, I can see her turning green. Yep, she is going to be sick. I am so glad these things don't bother me. I run outside after her and hold her ponytail and rub her back. I feel so shitty. Why did I get so angry with her? She is clearly innocent and just clueless. Blondie comes over and bends down to talk to her. I feel Ana tense. Oh crap, now I feel worse. She thought I was Kate the whole time. Well I hope she feels a little better with the fact that I'm taking care of her, and I protected her.
Ana remains very quiet, shaking as she drinks the water El brought over. I still have my arm protectively over her back, and she has not made any effort to shrug me off or to walk away from me. That's right beautiful, I'm in charge, I will take care of you. This poor girl has just gone through a horrible experience, so I feel worse for enjoying touching her. The more I think about touching her, and taking care of her, the more massive my erection gets. I really hope she doesn't notice. The paramedics and Police are finishing up, with all four men in handcuffs. Those would look hot on Ana…Oh boy. This is not helping my boner go away. It's time to arrange getting these ladies home. I have to have more time with Ana alone. I arrange for her to ride with me, Kate to ride with Elliot, Taylor will trail behind in Ms. Kavanagh's car. Taylor will then take my car home, and I will stay the night and get a ride home with Elliot in the morning. Ana objects, but I insist, there is no way either of these women are going home alone, let alone drive themselves in their current emotional state.
Ana sits in my car, after which I close her door for her. I notice she's looking over at my side, then leans over to touch my car door. I open it myself and slide in, trying to understand what she was doing. My quizzical expression not easily hidden, she explains," I was just trying to unlock your door for you" with a smile so deceptively destructive it could melt the polar ice caps. I get it. A Bronx Tale I think was the movie. If a girl reaches over to unlock your car door before you get to it, she's a keeper. And that she is.
