Disclaimer: Some dialogue was taken from Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L James. All characters belong to her.
Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for your amazing comments. I was not expecting so many people to read and comment. I apologize for the errors, I wasn't as careful with editing as I should have been. I got a beta reader so there shouldn't be any more mistakes. Also about the first title: I apologize to those that were offended. I'm fairly new to Fanfiction and I had no idea that there was a story with the exact same name. I meant no disrespect to bronzegoddess. I changed the name as soon as it was pointed out.
I will continue to update every other week. I'm very busy with school so it's difficult to keep up with a story. But I will try my hardest to update every other Tuesday. Thank you so much to those who have read and those who are going to read. Please feel free to let me know what you think. Or if you have any questions; I will be more than happy to clear it up. I try to respond to every comment so for those who come in as guests I won't be able to reply to your comments. Alright, enough on my chatter. Onto the story! Ana and Christian meet!
-Lily
I walk into the huge, glass building. The lobby is minimalistic; white sandstone from floor the ceiling. The huge open space has a sitting area with black leather chairs and glass tables in front of a sandstone receptionist desk. I walk up to a well groomed, gorgeous blond secretary. "Hello, I'm Dr. Steele from WSU Medical Center. I have a 10:30 appointment," I inform her.
She looks up. "Hold on one second, Dr. Steele," she says. She turns back to her computer and a few seconds later she looks back at me. "Just go to the elevators and head up to the 30th floor," she says and hands me a pass with "Visitor" written on it.
I thank her and walk to the elevators, the ride up to the 30th floor is smooth. Once the doors open I step out into a smaller scale replica of the lobby downstairs. I walk over to the sandstone desk where another pretty, blonde, well groomed, secretary is working.
She looks up. "Hello, Dr. Steele, I'm Andrea, Mr. Grey's assistant. He is in a meeting right now. If you could just wait a few minutes. Would you like some coffee? Water? Tea?" she asks efficiently.
"No, thank you," I say and walk over to the little waiting area. This whole building is cold and minimalistic. Everything is black and white and clinical; nothing is personal. I hear the clicking of heels and see a pretty, blonde, well groomed woman. She walks over to Andrea and sits at the computer. Another blonde secretary. Does this man only hire pretty, blonde women? I don't really think that's legal. He's probably sleeping with them.
"Golf this week, Grey?" a voice says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I turn towards the sound and see a handsome, dark-skinned man with dreadlocks. He is wearing a well fitted grey suit that shows off his toned body. He doesn't look like he belongs here. He is pretty cute, I think to myself. It's been so long since I've seen a man that's even remotely handsome. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.
The man walks out of the office, laughing to some unheard response. He turns and greet us. "Hello, Ladies," he says and strides confidently towards the elevators.
"Mr. Grey will see you know," Andrea says, "just walk right in, no need to knock."
I get up, straighten myself and walk towards the doors. I push it open and start to walk in. Just then my heel gets stuck on something and I feel myself launch forward. My heart skips I beat, I'm going to face plant in front of a billionaire, I think to myself. I feel a hand grab my arm, a current rushes through my body, but I ignore it. I'm more focused on my relief. The relief is short lived, though, quickly replaced by embarrassment. Well, so much for a good first impression. This man donates millions of dollars to a hospital where the surgeons can't even walk properly.
"Are you alright, Miss?" a deep, sexy, masculine voice asks, pulling me out of my self- pity. That is the sexiest voice I have ever heard, every muscle south of my waist clenches.
"Um… yes, I'm alright. Thank you, my heel got stuck. I guess that's what I get for wanting to dress up. I'm Dr. Anastasia Steele, by the way, but you can call me Ana." I stop talking realizing that I'm babbling like an idiot. I look up from the floor, my eyes run over Mr. Grey's body. He's dressed in a dark, navy blue, pinstriped suit. The pants hang of his hips in a way that makes me want to just jump him. His white button down hugs his body and shows off his fit chest and arms. When my gaze finally reaches his face my heart stops. He has the face of a Greek god. An angular jaw line, and sculpted, full, pouty lips, his coppery hair flops onto his forehead. But what catches my attention are his stormy gray eyes; looking into them I feel lost. His face has a cool, calm, guarded, confidence domineer; but his eyes tell a different story, I just don't know what it is.
Mr. Grey looks away, most likely because my intense gaze scared him.
"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Steele, I'm Christian Grey. Please have a seat," he says. He lets go of my arm and walks around his desk to sit down. I do as I'm told and sit on one of the black, leather chairs opposite his.
He stares at me, analyzing my every move, with a strange, unknown look in his eyes. I start to get uncomfortable so I look away. I look around his enormous office, his dark, wooden desk sits front of a floor to ceiling window; it matches the coffee table by the L-shaped white leather couch. This whole place is black and white, just like the rest of the building. Except for the wall by the door. Thirty-six small painting are arranged into a square. They are intriguing; a series of objects, painted so carefully that they look real.
"An Irish artist. Toulon," Mr. Grey says.
"They are beautiful. Raising the ordinary to extraordinary," I say turning back to look at him.
"I couldn't agree more, Doctor," he answers in a way that makes me blush.
"Okay, enough about art. I'm here on behalf of WSU Medical Center to thank you on your generous donation to our neurology department," I say.
"No need to thank me. I have a lot of money, so the donation won't be missed," he says arrogantly.
What a cocky thing to say. A simple 'you're welcome' would have sufficed. He's probably some spoiled rich kid who's been sheltered his whole life. His parents most likely bought him a company as a birthday gift for his 21st birthday; now he thinks he's all that. "You are very young. If you don't me asking, how did you become so successful?"
"I'm a self-made man, Dr. Steele. Business is all about people. I'm very good at reading people. I know how they think, what makes them flourish, what doesn't; what inspires them, what incentivizes them." He pauses and fixes me with his gray stare. "I am successful because I believe that to achieve success in any scheme, one has to make oneself master of that scheme, know it inside and out; every detail," he finishes.
"Maybe you've just been lucky," I taunt him. The arrogant act gets old quickly.
He glares at me for a few seconds, then composes himself again. "It has nothing to do with luck, Dr. Steele. You are a surgeon, am I right?" he asks.
"Yes," I respond quickly, wanting to know where he is heading with this.
"Before you go into the operating room, you research the procedure, right?" he asks.
"Yes…" I answer.
"You must know exactly what you're doing. Which place to make the incision. What is healthy and what needs to be cut. Am I right?" he asks, again.
"Yes," I reply, again. I'm really starting to get frustrated. Get to the point.
"That is exactly what I do. When I acquire a new company I need to know what to cut, what is helping the company and I need to know what to save. It has nothing to do with luck. It is about skill and hard work. If we only count on luck, my business would fail and your patients would die," he finishes with a smug look on his face. He knows he won this and he's not trying to hide it.
"It seems to me that you are a control freak," I snap back.
He runs his fingers through his disheveled hair and leans forward. "I exude control in all things, Dr. Steele," he says, his voice deepens and his eyes get darker. I look down and blush. I can't help but think that there is a double meaning to what he just said.
"So, is that your philosophy? Control in all things?" I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
"I don't have a philosophy per se, maybe a guideline principle. Carnegie's: 'A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of everything else which he is justly entitled.' I'm very singular, driven. I like control of myself and those around me."
"So not only do you like control, you like to posses things?" I ask. I hope I'm not pushing him too much.
"I want to deserve things. I'm in the business that I'm in because it allows me to have control. I like to build things because I like to know how they work. What makes them tick, how to construct and deconstruct. It gives me power, and control that I can use for better things," He explains.
"Like?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"I like to build ships," he states matter of fact, then smiles a breathtaking, almost childlike smile. "Ships carry things, things like food around the world."
"You invest in agriculture as well?" I ask. What can't this man do?
"We can't eat money, Dr. Steele. There are too many people on the planet who don't have enough to eat."
"That sounds like your heart talking; not facts and numbers."
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, but never reaches his eyes, and he looks at me appraisingly. "Maybe. Though some say I don't have a heart." His expression darkens.
"With all due respect, Sir, if you weren't such a control freak maybe they would think otherwise," I smirk up at him.
A look of anger flashes on his beautiful face. I better back off, I think to myself. He looks extremely intimidating. He runs his fingers through his hair again; he seems to do this when he's agitated. His nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath, probably trying to compose himself. All the while his strong gaze still holds mine. A cold sweat breaks out on the nap of my neck. He opens his mouth to say something, when we hear a knock on the door. I take this chance to finally escape his hypnotic gaze.
"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Grey, but your next appointment will be here in 2 minutes," Andrea says timidly.
"We are not done here, Andrea. Cancel it!" he snaps. She hesitates, the look of confusion on her face is identical to mine.
"Is that a problem?" he demands, his voice growing harsher. He raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her, daring her to object.
"No…Not at all, Sir," she says, blushing. At least now I know it's not just me he intimidates. She quickly turns and closes the door behind her.
He turns back to me. "Now where were we?"
I look at the clock on my phone and realize that it is 11 o'clock. "I should really leave. You don't need to cancel your appointment, Sir. I don't want to interfere," I tell him. I didn't realize until now that we have been talking for so long.
"As I said before, Dr. Steele, we are not finished yet," he insists. He says this in a polite manner but I can't help but feel like there is a sexual undertone. Get a grip, Ana, you have to be professional; humor him then get out as soon as possible, I tell myself. "Now where were we?" he asks again, this time a little more demanding.
"We were discussing your control freak tendencies," I say trying to lighten the mood. I look at him waiting for at least a smile, but nothing. "Do you ever relax?" I ask.
He looks at me and tilts his head sideways, his eyebrows scrunch together in an adorable way.
"What do you do outside of work?" I clarify.
"I have very varied interests, Dr. Steele." A seductive smile plays on his lips. "Very varied," he repeats, causing me to blush and bite my lower lip. His gaze never leaves mine and his eyes twinkle with a wicked gleam.
"You do that a lot," He states after a few minutes of silence. Thank god he broke the silence, the room was starting to get hot.
"Do what?" I ask, confused.
"Bite your lips. It's very distracting," he says slowly, lowering his voice. His pupils dilate and his eyes are almost black. I look down and blush, the strange current runs through my body again.
"I don't notice," I finally reply, looking up. I'm careful not to meet his gaze again. "I should go. I've already taken up to much of your time," I say. I need to get out of here before I do or say something stupid.
"Why so soon?" he asks, humor clearly evident in his voice.
"I'm sure you are a very busy man, Mr. Grey. I don't want to take up your valuable time," I respond in the same tone of voice.
"I don't have anything that can't wait," he fires back.
"Why do you want me to stay?"
"Well, you have basically been interviewing me the whole time and I know nothing about you, Anastasia," he says. It's the first time he has said my first name; it has never sounded so sexy. "I think it's only fair that I get to know about you," he smiles and for the first time it touches his eyes.
"What can you possibly ask me?" I say trying to change his mind. I really have to leave, I feel a mix of attraction and intimidation and I don't know how to react towards him. It's unnerving.
"I'm sure you are a very interesting woman, Dr. Steele." He leans forward and places his elbows on the desk and his fingers in front of his very distracting mouth. Crap, where the hell is he going with this?
"Where are you originally from?" he asks.
"How do you know I'm not from Seattle?" I respond.
"Oh no, Dr. Steele, I ask the questions," he smirks.
I sight in defeat. "I'm from Rhode Island, a small city called Woonsocket," I respond, slightly disappointed with this line of questioning. I was expecting more. He leans forward further, his index finger and thumb play with his bottom lip. What is he trying to do?
"How long did you live there?" he asks sounding interested, like I was telling him the best story in the world.
"My whole life. Well, until I was 22; when I went to Colombia for medical school. I was born and raised there. Then after high school I went to Brown in Providence, then to New York where stayed until I finished my internship. Now I'm here for my residency," I explain.
"How old are you?" he asks the second I finish talking.
"Has no one ever told you never to ask a women about her age?" I tease.
He smiles but otherwise just waits for my answer. "I'm 26."
"You are a few years younger than me," he states.
"How old are you?" I ask.
"Nope, I ask the questions," he says.
"Fine," I sigh and lean back against the chair. "Continue."
"Thank you for your permission. How long have you been in Seattle?" he asks.
"I've been here around two months; but I haven't had the chance to see anything. I'm always in the hospital and when I'm not I'm sleeping." Like I should be right now, instead of here.
"I would imagine." He smiles. "And welcome to Seattle. I could show you around, you would like," he says. His expression quickly changes to one of disbelief, he catches himself and returns back to his guarded domineer.
"Thank you. But I'm sure you are far too busy, Sir. Actually, I really have to go now. I've taken up too much of your time. I should get going. Thank you," I say.
"The pleasure was all mine," he says.
As I rise, he stands and hold out his hand. I shake his hand, shocked that the current from earlier reappears.
"Until we meet again, Dr. Steele" he says in a way that makes it sound like a challenge, not a farewell.
"Until then," I say and start turning to leave. Moving with athletic grace he walks to the door and opens it.
"I'm just making sure you get out alright," he smirks, referring back to my grand entrance. I look down and blush. I walk out of the office, careful not to trip again. I'm sure the blonds would have a good laugh at my expense. Thankfully, this time I make it.
"Do you have a jacket?" Mr. Grey asks from behind me. He seems to have followed me out of his office.
"No, Sir," I reply politely. His eyes widen slightly. I start to walk towards to elevators and I notice he follows me.
"I think I will be alright, Mr. Grey." I turn to glare at him.
"I don't want to take any chances," he replies arrogantly. He puts his hand on the small of my back and we walk towards the elevators. The current between us is palpable as we wait for the elevator to arrive. I wonder if he can feel it too, his face is hard to read. If he feels it he isn't letting me know.
When the elevator doors open I rush in, desperate to get out of this cold, clinical building. I turn to see him gazing at me and leaning against the doorway beside the elevator door. He has one hand on the wall, looking every bit a sexy, dangerous, bad boy. He really is the best looking man I have ever seen.
"Anastasia," his voice caresses my name. Making it sound lovelier than it has ever sounded.
"Christian," I reply as the elevator doors thankfully close.
So what did you all think?
I wanted to add some attitude to Ana, I will be going along with the story for the beginning but I will be changing some things up. For questions about Ana's relationship with the Greys and why she doesn't know about Christian I, it will all be cleared up in the next couple of chapters. Please review!
-Lily