APOV

Fifteen minutes later, the large glass door swings open and a young dark-haired man walks in. He's dressed well but the way he carries himself tells me right away that he's not even close to a 'higher-up' around here. I've spent enough time around the business men of film to know what the ones with power look like. This guy, he's not serious enough, he has a genuine smile on his face, fuck, he might actually even be happy.

"Ms. Steele, I'm Eric Johnson, I'm with Mr. Grey's PR team. It's so nice to meet you. I love your work." He strides over to me, all too eager.

"Hello Mr. Johnson, Anastasia Steele. It's my pleasure." I shake his extended hand and give him a closed-mouth smile. "Tell me, when will Mr. Grey be joining us?"

"Oh he won't be making it today Ms. Steele, he had a sudden change of plans, he requested that I meet with you." He looks at me like this is perfectly acceptable. Like I haven't flown here on 12 hours notice for a meeting I didn't request! Like Grey didn't send a kid from PR to talk to me about his personal project.

Mmm, no I don't think so Mr. Grey.

"Is he in this building?"

"Uh, yes Ma'am, I believe so."

"Is he fucking kidding me?! Is this a joke?" I stand up and lean over the table on both hands. "Get Grey in here now or I'm walking out the door. I don't know who this boss of yours is and I don't care. What I do care about is that he's wasting my fucking time!" I suppose that was a little harsh, but now I'm just mad. If I let every man with money bags I've dealt with get away with this shit, I'd never be where I am today. I've had to stand and fight in every moment like this in order to keep my footing.

"I'll try Ms. Steele, umm, please don't leave, umm, just give me one moment…" he struggles to say as he walks backward towards the door and then quickly darts out of the room. His behavior intrigues me. Even though I was the one who just took the harsh tone with him, it's not me he's afraid of. The boss must be a real asshole.

I pace the room for a few minutes, before stopping in front of the glass wall to look out at the city from this amazing view.

"Mr. Grey will see you now," I hear a stern but polite voice say from behind me. When I turn around, I see a tall and exquisitely groomed blonde woman. She's giving me the same closed mouth smile I was giving Eric a moment ago. I must be getting closer to the power. She leads me to an expansive oak door and extends her hand towards it, offering me to enter. So I do.

Holy hell…

There he is, standing in front of his very large desk, legs slightly apart, with one arm wrapped across his chest and the other reaching up so that a finger covers his lips. He's looking at me from under his brow with the stare of a predator. I stop my approach but keep my eyes fixed with his, challenging his glare. He doesn't flinch. I start to wonder how long we'll square off like this when he finally growls a statement at me.

"Ms. Steele, welcome."

"Thank you," I respond with a dryness that expresses how unwelcome I feel. He drops his hand from his mouth, takes a deep breath, and lifts his head slightly to lessen his scowl.

"I'm Christian Grey. Thank you for coming." He turns on his heel and walks behind his desk. "Sit… please," he says sternly while his back is to me. Even though Mr. Grey has regained his composure, I'm still standing where I was, trying to read this fucking weird situation. He turns to sit and notices I haven't moved. His eyes leave mine and travel down to my lips. His impassive expression falters as I see one corner of his mouth turn up ever so slightly.

Mmm, so he likes what he sees?

"Sit," he says again. So I do. His eyes move back up to meet my gaze. "I understand you were unhappy about meeting with Mr. Johnson."

What the hell. I know this young billionaire has to be smarter than this.

"I was under the impression this was regarding a personal project, so yes, I'd like to meet the person to whom it's personal."

"Yes, well… here we are." Again, I notice his eyes are on my lips and his mind is somewhere else entirely.

"And what are we here for Mr. Grey?" I want him to get to the point, but not because I'm in a hurry to get out of his hungry stare. I'm actually quite intrigued with the interaction happening here, even though I don't fully understand it yet. I do know that whatever business we might have together, it's definitely not what's fueling the odd tension in our conversation.

"For you to direct a short documentary for me. I do relief work in Africa, right now primarily in the Darfur region. Our method there has been a success and I'd like to greatly expand the project. I want you to accompany me to Darfur and document how and what we're doing over there, but more importantly, I need you to capture why we're doing it. The film will be used to help attract donors and volunteers so I need the message to be compelling and real. From what I know of your work, you're quite good at capturing that."

My my, Mr. Grey. Nowhere in that response was a question.

And now I understand. No wonder this man had me slipping into submission in the bathroom… if he's not a dominant, then it's only because he just doesn't know it yet. But now I know. I know he got where he is because of it, he beckoned me here without regard because of it, and now I'm interested in something besides business with him because of it. It's funny I didn't realize the moment I saw him because, even though his looks are more than striking, they pale in comparison to his overt dominant nature. I suppose I just wasn't expecting it.

"Mr. Grey, I'm flattered. And congratulations on your successful humanitarianism. I'm sure it's wonderful what you're doing. Unfortunately I can't do the project. I would love to be a part of it but my schedule's booked two years out. There's now way I could fit this in and do it any justice." I'm expecting a little push back because I'm sure he hears the word 'no,' well, fucking never. But instead, the corner of his mouth curls up again.

"Are you certain I can't change your mind?"

"Yes sir, I am," I say with a sweet smile.

"That's most unfortunate." But he's not actually disappointed. He's back to staring at my lips and I notice the minuscule adjustment he just made in his seat. I can't read his thoughts but I would stake my life that if I could see the images he's playing out in his mind, the essence of submission would be present throughout them. I'm very curious to know if I'm right. One quick question to my assistant over the phone about my schedule would've made this meeting unnecessary, but now I'm so glad I came. Three minutes of interacting with him face to face and I'm willing to adjust that schedule… a little.

"It is. But tell me, are you free tonight Mr. Grey? There's actually something I'd like to discuss with you." He stares at me contemplatively for several moments. He must be trying to read if this request of mine is one of business or pleasure. Either way, I suppose he's okay with it because he doesn't ask.

"I am… Mile High, 8 pm. Mr. Sawyer can take you anywhere you need to go until then."

"Thank you, that's very kind" We both stand to leave and as I make my way to the elevator, he follows along behind me. As soon as I push the call button, the door opens so I step in and turn to face him.

"It was nice meeting you. I'll see you at eight," I say, trying to break our silence. But he's staring again, and this time he looks almost scared. I smile back at him and laugh to myself inside.

Don't be afraid Mr. Grey. I'm not going to hurt you.

"Anastasia" he says with a slight nod as the door begins to close.

"Christian."

Once I'm back in the Audi, I ask Sawyer to drive me to Bloomingdales. I have time to kill and I don't feel like wearing the white silk button down and black slacks I wore to the meeting. When we arrive, Sawyer follows me in without a word, but I don't fight him on it.

He must be security because he certainly isn't good company.

For about twenty minutes, I stroll around looking for a new 'little black dress' but the one that finally calls to me is plum. It'll still work well with the black heels and beige trench coat I'm wearing so I purchase it and head back to the car. I then ask Sawyer to take me to a hotel near the restaurant and for him to please let the pilot at SeaTac know that I won't be leaving tonight. I'm not making plans to spend the night with Christian, but I am creating enough time for me to have a proper conversation. If he's totally naive to the topic, it could take some time for me to explain why I'm approaching him with this. But I know he would be a natural, so if it's something he would like to explore, I'd be more than happy to be the one to show him.

At the hotel, I relax for a bit and then get myself ready for dinner. I love the dress but I probably should've tried it on. It's very form fitting and making quite a display of my chest. It's not helping my claim that for tonight, I'm only interested in talking to him. I stand and turn in the mirror, wondering if I should change, but I'm interrupted when the room phone rings. It's the reception desk telling me my driver is waiting. The dress will have to do so I grab my coat and head down to the lobby.

Mmm... Here goes the lamb into the lion's den…