Two servers enter, pushing two trolleys of covered dishes. The servers work quickly. There are huge platters of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, muffins, pancakes, waffles and fresh fruit. There are pitchers of orange juice, pineapple juice and apple juice. Not to mention an urn of coffee, and a pitcher of hot water for tea. I sit and watch with my mouth wide open, but words fail me. Never have I seen anything like this. Grey pulls me to my feet, "Come, Anastasia. You need to eat."

I stand but look at him like he's lost his mind. "Me and what army?" I ask.

"Taylor likes to eat. Don't worry, what we don't finish, Sawyer will."

"Who's Sawyer?"

"He works with Taylor when we need additional security."

I watch as a white linen tablecloth is spread over a round glass table, which is quickly set with linen napkins and utensils.

"Come," Grey invites as he continues to hold my hand and start at the beginning of the buffet. I am hungry now. Really hungry. I take three sausage and several long strips of bacon. Next I pile up home fries and scrambled eggs. Back at our table, the server offers us juice, coffee, tea and milk. I take a glass of pineapple juice, a glass of milk and a cup of tea, bag out. I notice Taylor standing to the side, six feet away supporting the wall. Grey, meanwhile is staring at my plate like I have lost my mind.

"Anastasia, you will never be able to eat all that."

"I can eat it. Why isn't Taylor sitting with us?"

"He's staff, Anastasia. We don't take meals together."

I think about that and try to wrap my head around it but I can't. I can tell Taylor is hungry, but he says nothing, simply stands stoically against the wall. He's hungry and the food is getting cold. This is ridiculous.

"Mr Grey, could you maybe make an exception just once today? I was hoping to see which one of us could eat more. "

"Ms Steele, " he pauses carefully, considering his words, than just mutters, "What the hell" and nods for Taylor to join us.

Thirty minutes later, I look at what is left on the table. There is one sausage left on the platter. I eyeball it and checkout Taylor at the same time. We are having a silent contest and I want that last link of sausage. I know as soon as my fork makes its move to the platter, Taylor will strike too. His arms are longer and his reflexes incredibly fast. I will need to distract him.

"Look!" I cry, pointing at the window with my fork. As soon as Taylor turns I stab the sausage and immediately bring it to my mouth where I bite off a chunk. Taylor turns back and watches in shocked dismay as I eat the sausage. Grey is cracking up. The only thing really left on the table is a platter of cold toast, and some fresh fruit.

Taylor puts his hands up in the air and concedes defeat. Grey sips on his coffee and smiles contentedly. He looks at Taylor, catches his eye and says simply, "Sawyer isn't going to be happy." Taylor shrugs with a grin. Then Grey explains Sawyer works security with Taylor and is accustomed to finishing up any leftovers.

Taylor slides the cantaloupe and strawberries onto the platter with the cold, soggy toast. Then he texts him. There's a knock on the door and another huge guy enters. Taylor grabs the one platter of toast and fruit and hands it to Sawyer.

Sawyer had been looking calm and composed until he looked down at the platter. His head snapped up and he turned to Taylor and growled, "Where's all the meat?"

Before Taylor could respond, I spoke up. "I am so sorry, Mr Sawyer, but I am afraid I made a pig of myself. We ate it, every last link of sausage and every strip of bacon. I have never tasted such delicious sausage and bacon in my life."

Sawyer looks from me to Taylor, back to me and then turns to Grey. "Sir, did they really eat it all?"

"Sawyer, they ate it all. Don't ask me where either one of them put it, especially her."

Grey then goes on to describe our dueling forks and how I tricked Taylor to nab the last sausage which seems to mollify him a bit and he ends up leaving with a grin.

I find it interesting that I feel safer now that Sawyer has left. I wonder what it is about Grey and Taylor that makes me feel so safe? The servers are back to remove the empty platters. Grey stands and motions to the couches. I follow and sit on one end and place my tote beside me. Grey sits on the opposite end.

"So, Ms Steele. I believe you have some questions for me?"

Suddenly I feel shy and uncomfortable. I pull out the recorder and ask if he minds if I record his answers to Kate's questions. He says no. I grab the questions and glance through them when one question causes me to gasp in horror. No way am I asking such a stupid question. I go over the other questions and find myself disappointed. Grey notices and asks me what's wrong.

I explain I don't care for her questions. He explains I am welcome to ask my own. I am torn and decide to do both, since he really doesn't mind. I explain Kate has 15 questions, I will ask 14 as one was inappropriate. Then I will ask him a few questions of my own. He agrees.

Kate's questions are unoriginal and boring. You can read them in almost any interview. Nevertheless, I ask them and gentleman that Christian Grey is, he answers them. It doesn't take long to go through her questions.

Now it's my turn. I ask what was his favorite Christmas was and why. It turns out it was the year he was six and his family adopted his sister Mia. She arrived as an infant shortly before Christmas and changed his life. He went on to explain he loves his older brother, Elliot, but there was always competition between them. Elliot's idea of playing was teasing or stealing his toys, whereas Mia would just gurgle and smile. She needed protecting. She stole his heart the first day and had him wrapped around her little finger. She still does. According to Grey, he spoils his little sister sinfully.

I smile in appreciation of the personal glimpse into his life. Then I ask him what is the toughest lesson he has learned in life?

He pauses and looks away, staring out at the Seattle skyline through the floor to ceiling glass windows. After a moment, he speaks softly. "I've learned many lessons since I started my business. The three I remember best were probably the most painful. I learned that to truly succeed, you need to fail. I learned in business, nice guys really do finish last. There are times, too many times, when you simply have to be a cold hearted bastard. Excuse my language, Ms Steele. Lastly, I learned to trust no one, everyone has an agenda, everyone wants something." Then he smiled reluctantly and added, "Even you, Ms Steele."

I nod and then ask, "If this," and I sweep my arm in front of me to include everything in the office and continue, " All disappeared overnight, if all the money was suddenly gone, what would you do? Would you start over? Try again?"

"I've had a good run. If it ended tomorrow, I can deal with that. Money really isn't important to me. I think I would like to work in a third world country and try to make a difference."

"Why not right here at home?"

There is a long silence as Grey considers his answer. I feel uneasy and nervous. I interrupt the silence and assure him I can withdraw the question and there is no need for him to answer.

He looks up surprised, "No, Ms Steele, I want to answer. Let me explain. My early childhood was difficult. My birth mother was involved in drugs and money wasn't easy to come by. I knew hunger and abuse. No child should ever experience either. Poverty is not an excuse for hunger in this country. There are federal programs to prevent it, Food Stamps and Medicaid, not to mention non-profit organizations and food banks. I'm not saying there aren't hungry children, just that there are programs available to the poor to prevent hunger. In third world countries, there's nothing for the poor. If it weren't for the non-profits providing food in some countries, I'm not sure where the next generation would come from.

I donate a lot of money to provide food to starving children but I sometimes wonder if I should just take a leave of absence for a year and go there, a boots on the ground kind of mentality. Learn the politics first hand, understand the corruption not just judge it. I want to go there and be Superman and I can't because I'm just one guy and I'm not a superhero. They are only in comic books. If I went, I would be frustrated, and then I would be angry. In the end, I would probably do more damage than good. Not to mention, I am responsible for fifty thousand employees in various companies around the world. Until I retire or give up my company, they have to be my number one priority or I shouldn't be a CEO. I do try and visit once a year at least but it's only for a few days at best."

"Wow! Grey, I am impressed! You are a good man."

He smiles, almost shyly.

"One last question, Grey. For all the people who emulate you and want to follow in your footsteps and get filthy rich, what advice can you give them?"

"Money can't buy you happiness. I work long, hard hours. I am often on international calls negotiating million dollar deals at three in the morning. Ask anyone else in a similar position and you will quickly see its hell on relationships. There are lots of different reasons but know there are very, very few really happy rich people."

"Are you happy Mr Grey?"

"I am not unhappy, Ms Steele. I am only 28. I have plenty of time to find happiness."

"On behalf of UW, we wish you good luck, sir." I click off the recorder and sigh in look at Grey and he is smiling too. We are both glad that's over. I put everything back in my bag and put my head back against the couch and try to relax a little. I close my eyes and then yawn.

"Tired, Ms Steele?"

"Will you please call me Ana?"

"Will you please call me Christian?"

I giggle and complain, "But I like calling you Grey."

He makes a growling sound but his eyes are smiling. I laugh out loud and he laughs with me.

I yawn again.

"Keeping you up, am I?"

"Of course not, silly. It's just all that wonderful food is making me sleepy."

"Taylor. Get Ms Steele a blanket."

I want to die of embarrassment. I'm not cold and I can't very well tell him I have thermals on, so I just accept the blanket graciously but grin when Taylor tosses a second blanket to Grey with some remark about him not sleeping either."

Taylor looks at me and tells me to press the button on the side. I do and discover this is a reclining sofa. A very comfortable, plush leather reclining sofa. I hear Grey's side of the sofa shift into the reclining position as well. There I lay, with just my oversized tote bag between us. I have my blanket and he has his. Strangely, I feel quite safe and comfortable. Taylor presses buttons on a remote and the windows slowly darken. Soothing music plays softly in the background. My eyelids feel heavy, but this can't be happening. I feel a moment of panic and then I feel Grey's hand clasp mine and the panic fades.

"Rest, Anastasia. Taylor will keep watch over both of us." I know it is true. Taylor will keep us safe. He will keep me safe. I don't think Grey would try to take advantage of me but I know if he did try, Taylor would kick his ass, boss or no boss. I feel the tension drain out of me and close my eyes and let sleep take me."

I awaken to the sound of frenzied whispering. Cautiously I open my eyes to see Taylor on one knee beside Christian, pointing at something on his IPad and whispering furiously. Grey nods, throws off his blanket and calls me, "Anastasia!"

Something is wrong. "Anastasia, we need to leave immediately. Come!" He announces while holding out his hand to me. I press the button to return to a sitting position. I put the blanket aside and grab my tote with one hand and Greys outstretched hand with the other.

Taylor has been speaking harshly into his phone and I startle when he suddenly yells, "I don't give a fuck. Get his car out front now."

I want to ask what is wrong but they are both so tense, I don't dare. Once outside his office, Andrea starts to say something but Taylor cuts her off with a nod of his head. She looks confused as we pass her on the way to the elevator. Sawyer is waiting at the elevator and he looks tense as well. Once inside the elevator, I feel both Grey and Taylor inch closer to me. I am starting to feel like a piece of bologna between two slices of bread. Then I hear Taylor.

"Sawyer, you're on Grey. Grey is on Ms Steele's left, I will be on her right." Then those hazel eyes turned to me. They were dead serious now. "Ana, listen to me. This is serious. Do exactly what I say. If I say down, just drop to the ground, don't ask why. Do you understand?"

I nod, but that wasn't good enough for Taylor.

"Ana, do you understand?"

I feel Christian give my hand a reassuring squeeze as I reply, "Yes, Taylor. I understand."

The elevator doors open to the lobby. Building security moves outside ahead of us, momentarily halting pedestrian traffic. We are quickly hustled into a waiting black SUV. There are police cars and fire engines everywhere. I look out the passenger window and think I see the homeless woman I gave ten dollars to on my way to the interview. I press my nose against the glass and I am sure it is her when suddenly there is a crack and the window I am leaning my face against explodes with a bang. I scream. Taylor yells," Down!" Grey grabs me and pulls me to the floor. The car takes off with a screech. I hear three more sharp raps against glass and wonder what is going on. Grey is sheltering my body with his but on his knees so that our bodies aren't actually touching. I can hear Taylor cursing viciously nonstop as the car swerves violently from one side to the other.

I am gasping for air, but can't seem to suck any down. I open my eyes and see spots. I need to let Grey know and try to call him, but only a gutteral sound comes out. Then, I am suddenly flipped on my back and pulled to a sitting position. His gray eyes are riveted to mine. They are calm and commanding.

"Look at me, Anastasia. You are safe. We will keep you safe no matter what. You need to breathe Anastasia. Look at me. Don't think about anything else, just breathe with me. Ready? Okay, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out."

I try. Its hard. At first all I do is gasp and make strange sounds, but then I actually take a small breath. I feel myself grin like an idiot and then take another shallow breath without thinking. I am ecstatic. Before you know it I am breathing normally and Grey and I are both grinning like idiots.

I inch back until my back is up against the door. Grey does the same with the opposite door. He stretches out his legs on either side of me. "Are you okay now?" He asks gently.

"Yes," I reply in a hoarse whisper.

His hand moves toward my face but doesn't touch me. "You are going to have a bruise." He announces. He tries to sound casual, but I can tell it is really upsetting him.

"Good thing I have makeup," I laugh, letting him know a bruise is no big deal.

We've been driving for a while when Grey asks Taylor for an ETA at Escala.

There's a long silence before Taylor replies. "Sir, Escala is out. We're headed for Boeing."

Greys face noticibly pales. "Injuries?" He asks.

"Unknown, sir. All I know at this point is Escala was compromised. The last report indicates Reynolds and Gail are in the safe room."

"You've contacted Stephen?"

"Yes sir."

"Where do you suggest we go, Taylor?"

"Sir, we're on defense right now. All we have are questions. I suggest you visit New York, sir."

Grey closes his eyes and starts yanking on his hair in obvious frustration. I am quite sure if I wasn't here, he would be shouting at Taylor. I am glad he isn't.

"Taylor! What do you suggest regarding Ms Steele?"

I interrupt right there. No use in this getting out of hand. "I am sure I can get a cab back to the parking garage. I'll just get my car and head back to Portland."

There is a very long, uncomfortable silence. Its making me very nervous. Grey is avoiding my eyes and continuously tugging on his hair.

Finally, Taylor clears his throat and begins to speak. "Ms Steele, your car was vandalized. Your tires were slashed and a threatening message was left in spray paint. Then your car was set on fire. This was before someone took a shot at you. Then a completely different shooter fired three rounds on your side of the vehicle. You are under an active threat and you need to stay with us so we can protect you."

"W-Wanda was set on fire?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Do you think she could be fixed?"

"No. I am sorry. Think of her as going out in a blaze of glory, like a Viking funeral."

I smile at the simile.

Grey lifts his head and gives me a sad smile, "Anastasia, will you be my guest for a visit to New York?"

I realize I really don't have much choice, "Grey, I would be honored."