A/N: I'm sorry I took so long to update but during these past days my life has been quite busy. My mother was operated, somewhere along the line it was also my birthday, and right now I'm in the process of moving. So, it was just a little chaotic for me…

Anyway, with no further delays: here it is. Hope you enjoy!


4.

New City, New Life

"What do you mean you are going to get married?" Cindy demanded, voice changeling, hands stuck on her round hips.

Anastasia glanced around nervously while playing with the thin fabric of her shirt. It was her last day in Mr. Carter's diner, and though she had already talked to her boss, she hadn't had to courage to bring up that particular topic with her friend – until now.

"It means, I'm, uhm, engaged."

"To whom?!"

"That man, you remember, the guy that was here some days ago. Mr. Gr… Christian Grey. The business man, he's my fiancé."

"The hunk of a man?" She asked incredulously. Her dark eyes were glistening with excitement and, mostly, disbelief.

The brunette couldn't help the giggle that escaped her. "Yep, that's the one."

"Oh my God!" Cindy breathed, placing a chubby hand right across her heart and sitting down in the nearest of chairs. She could not believe her own ears. "Are you for real?"

Anastasia smiled again. She knew her friend's incredulity had nothing to do with malice. It was only natural to doubt a sudden and never-heard off engagement – one that would take her to a new city and introduced her to a lifestyle neither of them could dream off. "Yes, I'm going to get married. And it's real. Very much so."

"I… Don't know what to think." Cindy admitted, helplessly grasping for a cup of water. If Anastasia had told her she was actually an illegitimate daughter to some royal European family it would have been easier to believe, but getting married? The girl had never even dated, how could it be possible that things escalated that quickly? "A-Are you pregnant?" The thought suddenly struck the blond hard, and she couldn't help but ask.

Ana's cheeks instantly heat up. She shook her head violently. "Unless the Holy Spirit visited me during the night and I'm the next Virgin Mary – no. There is no way I'm pregnant."

Cindy's eyes widened and squinted all at once. If her friend wasn't making sense before, now she might as well be speaking in Mandarin. "You're making that guy wait for the wedding night?"

The brunette's flush extended way past her cheeks and onto her neck. She wasn't making anyone wait – for any night. But it was only natural that others would think so, for all everyone knew, their marriage was absolutely legitimate. "Yeah… Well, you know, uhn, I…" She hugged her elbows defensively while blabbering about purity and love.

Cindy interrupted by reaching out and patting the soon-to-be-bride's arm. "You go girl!" She practically shouted such was her sudden excitement. "That's my Ana," She beamed again clapping her hands together. "You make that fine piece of meat wait on his ass for it! Make him work for a taste of you."

"Cindy!" Anastasia chastised, hiding her brightened-red face under her palms. They were attracting some unwanted attention. "Just lower your voice…"

"What do you care, anyway?" The blond asked not bothering to attend her friend's request. "You're finally leaving this dump. I always knew you were too good for this, honey."

"Oh, Cindy, don't say things like that…" Treasonous tears started to sting in her big eyes. It was so hard to lie to the only person she was close with. Anastasia wished for nothing more than to spill the beans, admit that she wasn't too good for anything, that she simply had made a stupid deal, that she was in a situation way out of her depths, that she was scared – but the stupid NDA Christian's lawyer sent the day after their negotiations was already signed and efficiently preventing her from telling the truth.

"It was about damn time something good happened to you. I'm the first to say this is quite unexpected, and maybe a little rushed, but the heart wants what the hearts wants, right? And if you're going away, you might as well go with a bang!"

Anastasia shook her head, still too emotional about this particular goodbye. It was so much harder than she was prepared for. She was feeling overwhelmed, but the sadness stopped invading her heart the moment Cindy decided to jump onto the chair, wave her hands in the air like a maniac, and shout for anyone within a mile radius to hear.

"My friend is getting married!"

"Cindy, what…?" Ana tried to pull on her sleeve and bring her down to the ground, but those attempts failed miserably as the blond simply shrugged out of her grasp and carried on.

"She's finally leaving this place! Her fiancé is absolutely mouth-watering. He's fucking Adonis! I've seen him already and can totally attest to that. He's rich too –"

"Oh God," The brunette groaned shamefully into her hands, hiding her face, as more and more patrons turned in their direction, curiously eyeing this declaration.

"Filthy rich! In fact he could probably pay for everyone's lunch here… and maybe dinner too –"

"Cindy!" Anastasia pleaded again, too mortified to even try to run away.

"What the heck is going on?!" Only the booming voice of Mr. Carter made everyone calm down. Some whistles and muffled hollers echoed through the dinner but Cindy finally came down from her makeshift podium and the attentions were dispersed quickly.

"I was just giving Ana here an unforgettable farewell. You of all people know she deserves it, Mr. Carter." The blond waitress didn't even have the dignity to look embarrassed for being caught raising havoc. She was just that much assured – Ana envied that natural confidence and knew she could never be mad about what Cindy did.

Mr. Carter's eyes softened and its corners wrinkled in sympathy. He, too, didn't have the heart to get upset about something like that. Anastasia Steele had proven to be one of the best workers he ever had. Since the moment she walked through those doors asking for a part-time job until the present day, she had always been polite, preoccupied, committed. She was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. If someone deserved a break it was this girl. He was only sad to see her go away.

"Now, Ana," He said, gently embracing the petite brunette. "You know you'll always have a place here, if things turn out sour – which I'm hopping they won't! But you know… Just in case…"

Anastasia hugged the old man and tried to hide the tears in the crock of his neck. She had sworn to never cry again after spending so many days doing it for her parents, but now it was proving hard to hold on to that particular promise. These people – as loud and embarrassing as they may be, sometimes – were her only family. And she was leaving them.

"Don't forget us ole' folks here, once you're living the fancy life." Cindy croaked, her voice laced with emotion, she was fighting hard the tears herself. "And if Mr. Hunk-of-a-man ever hurts you, be sure to tell me, 'cause I'll go down to Seattle with my faithful shotgun and blow his balls really fast."

"Oh, Cindy…" Ana hugged her friend – tightly – as well, and then mumbled something about never forgetting them. She wasn't sure she was making sense, but she wasn't in the right state of mind to care either way.

It felt like her lungs were being ripped out of her body.

Finally, she managed to disentangle herself from their warm embrace and walk away before she could do something idiotic like telling them the actual truth.

xxxx

Anastasia glanced around her home one more time. Admittedly, it wasn't in great shape. The decoration was already old and quite unpractical when it came to the modern's world necessities, and the infra-structures were slowly deteriorating with each passing year; but it was hers nonetheless. And it had many memories – though most weren't that bright.

Regardless, it sprouted a sense of lost in her chest, gazing the place for the last time. The last time for a year, she sternly corrected herself – it wasn't like she would never come back. Her big eyes wandered through the lifeless space again, before she took a deep breath, picked up her bags and walked swiftly towards the entrance.

There was a man, a man right in her driveway, leaned against a black and menacing SUV that somehow matched his mood perfectly. He gave her chills. It wasn't that he had been impolite, or anything other than excruciatingly professional, but the single purpose of his job made her nervous – why the need for a personal security? She didn't feel comfortable with the notion of having an 'escort'. She could make it to Seattle just fine on her own.

Ana had tried to explain that to the guy-dressed-in-black that had appeared on her doorstep the day before. Jason Taylor – he presented himself. He said he was there on Mr. Grey's orders just to make sure she would leave Vancouver on the rightful date and arrive in Seattle in one single piece. Despite her insistency, he refused to let her go alone.

"Is this everything, Miss Steele?" Taylor came around and tried to snatch her bag away. She held on to it tightly.

"I've already told you – it's Ana."

"Ana," He said reticent, as if treating someone by their respective birth name was something completely unnatural and never heard off. She gave him the bag and a small smile for encouragement. "Are you sure about driving yourself?" Taylor insisted.

Anastasia rolled her eyes – again this discussion. The previous day they had spent a couple of hours arguing about it. She wanted to take her own car, since she would probably need it there, but Taylor swore Mr. Grey wouldn't be pleased with that. To resolve matters, they finally called Christian, and Ana spent another hour discussing the situation with him. In the end, and most likely, because both men were sick of hearing her arguments, she won. She would drive to Seattle in her old and faithful Beetle while still being escorted by Taylor – who would drive the intimidating SUV behind her the entire time.

She was happy with that settlement. The men? Not so much. Christian was grinding his teeth by the time they were done talking and Taylor was still suspicious of Ana's welfare when driving that death-trap.

"I'm positive." She beamed, walking quickly towards Wanda. She loved that vehicle. It had been her mother's. It was now hers. It was special.

"Well, if Mr. Grey said yes…" His tone left no doubt that he was completely astonished by the fact that his boss had backed down on an argument. Mr. Grey wasn't known for his comprehension or fairness. Yet he still allowed Miss Steele to stand her ground. It was strange but somehow refreshing.

Ana's smile widened and she entered the car as quickly as her petite body allowed her. It was better to get it on with, fast. She was actually anxious about this move. Through her rearview mirror she saw Taylor do the same. Without losing another second, she turned the key on the ignition and rejoiced when Wanda's motor came to life.

Seattle, here I come. She thought, as she turned the music up and pressed the gas pedal.

xxxx

Christian's foot tapped incessantly against the ground. For some reason he couldn't comprehend, he was nervous. Anxious even. He had never lived with someone other than his family, and especially never with a woman – whom he would eventually marry. Would she have any problems with the arrangements he had made? With the house? With how things ran?

God, it was infuriating to imagine all the things that could go wrong – there was a series of unfavorable outcomes he didn't want to dwell on, but didn't seem capable to avoid.

He glanced at his watch again. What was taking so long? Perhaps something had happened. But if that had been the case, then Taylor would have found a way to report it. Christian knew allowing Anastasia to drive wasn't a good idea. He didn't want it. Taylor didn't sound too sure either. So why in the hell had he agreed to it? It seemed like that woman wouldn't back down from an argument and always managed to get the best out of him.

That notion aggravated Christian even more. He was grudgingly skulking on his own, in the quietness of his home office, when his phone vibrated on the heavy oak desk, efficiently interrupting his concentration. Quickly he retrieved the electronic advice from the middle of the sprawled documents and saw, with strange relief, it was a message from Taylor. They were arriving.

In a fraction of a second, he sprung to his feet and walked out of his office and onto the hallway. The elevator already awaited him. Christian was too impatient to stand still a minute longer. He punched the buttons harder than necessary and, within moments, was descending to the parking lot himself.

Just as he was stepping onto the open space of the park, two cars arrived. Well, if the first thing could even be categorized as a car – mainly, it was just scrap-iron placed together in the form of an old and broken Volkswagen. The sight made Christian cringe inside. It wasn't even pleasant to look at it, let alone drive it. It had to be the most unsafe vehicle he had ever seen.

For a moment he considered that, maybe, whoever the driver was had made a mistake by turning towards this building. A lousy, smoky Beetle wasn't the kind of automobile that was common within Escala's perimeters. The thing would probably blend perfectly in a junk, but not in a place that distinguished itself by class and opulence.

Yet, as the pallid cyanic death-trap came closer and closer to his stunned body, he was able to confirm that behind the wheel stood, indeed, his fiancée.

She parked the car quickly in the designated spot, and came out of it in a swift motion. She was nervous too. That realization calmed Christian a bit – he wasn't the only one feeling out of place. Taylor parked the SUV as well, and moved with his regular speed, retracting Anastasia's bag and reaching for the elevator.

"Mr. Grey." He greeted with a clipped tone and a short nod of his buzzed-cut hair.

"Taylor," Christian mumbled, still dumbstruck with the fact Ana had actually driven that piece of shit from Vancouver to Seattle. He recovered quickly, though. Turning sideways and glaring coldly at his security, he couldn't help but growl. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me that was her car?"

Anastasia approached both men. Her hands were sweating and she fidgeted with them absently. She flinched when she heard Christian's tone. Was the man always angry about something? Would she be able to live with such a person? Perhaps this whole arrangement had been a terrible, terrible idea.

Taylor, though, appeared completely unfazed. "I tried to, sir." He simply said as cordial as ever.

"That's not safe!" Christian insisted, a hand roaming through his wild hair. "For anyone! You could have caused an accident." He turned to the petite brunette, a murderous gaze on his steely eyes, as if the notion of her hurting others was the most haunting possibility that could ever cross his mind.

Anastasia recoiled and took a step back. "Well, I didn't." She wanted to sound strong and assured, but her voice was pathetic even to her own ears. Intimidating-Christian was scary.

"Luckily," He spat. His long, muscular legs began a quick stride towards the parked Beetle. He stopped close to it, unable to mask his undeniable disgust. "Is it even legal to drive this?"

His tone angered Anastasia. She was trembling inside – miserably so – but her indignation at having her mother's car insulted in such crude manner overpowered whatever fears she may have. She wouldn't stand still and have Carla's memories and possessions disrespected like that – Wanda might not be much, but it meant plenty.

She took some steps too, towards the hood of the car, facing Christian head-on. "For your information, it's perfectly legal and safe to drive Wanda," Somehow her index finger gained a life of its own and started to wave in the air menacingly. "Not all of us can afford to possess a harem of luxury cars, Christian."

Ana was exaggerating. She knew it. Hastily glancing around she ascertained the man only had three or four cars – she wasn't counting precisely – but that was beside the point.

Christian grew silent for a moment. He blinked unsure of what he had heard. He ignored the obvious insult and the aggravated baritone in his fiancée's voice, and instead focused on what had caught his attention. "Wanda?" He asked almost incredulously.

The brunette was rendered speechless too. She blushed the lightest shade of crimson and absently stretched her tiny hand, affectionately patting the hood of the car. "It's her name." She breathed, a cheeky smile spreading distractedly on her pink lips.

That attitude stunned Christian. Her name? Why would an automobile, especially one as rusty as that one, have a pet-name? But, more importantly, why did her expression strangled the air out of his lungs? He realized he had never seen her smile. In the few meetings they had shared, Anastasia Steele had never even given him a ghost of a smirk, let alone a full grin.

That expression transformed her whole face. Her eyes became alive, the shade so bright it turned an electrical blue. Her skin glowed almost healthily. She looked… pretty. While Ana was smiling, Christian didn't notice her thin body or her untamed hair or her pale skin – he was drawn by those luscious, lewd lips.

When it became obvious he was just staring at her like a fool, Christian slapped himself mentally and growled in frustration. The nature of his thoughts perturbed him. He grabbed his hair savagely and walked away from the Beetle as if it was a predator ready to pounce on him, and he just had to run away before it was too late for salvation.

"I don't want you to drive that thing." He barked while passing by Anastasia, not daring to meet her stare, in case she was still wearing that stupid smile on those damned lips.

"I don't really think you can –"

Christian held a hand in the air. Through his peripheral vision he noticed Ana's hand flying to her hip, her foot tapping the floor exasperatedly. He may not know her very well, but he knew the signs of resistance when he witnessed them. And in that moment, he wasn't feeling in the mood for a big argument. He just wanted to get the hell away from that woman before she could drive him even more aggravated.

"We'll talk about it later." He interrupted, his tone stern and authoritarian, though his voice was barely above a whisper. "Now, we should get you to settle in, yes?"

He managed to gain courage to gaze directly into her eyes. Anastasia took a step back seeing the intensity that was behind Christian's irises. It almost appeared as if he was daring her to do something – only she didn't know what.

She nodded. "Y-Yes…"

"Good."

Christian turned away and walked swiftly towards the elevator; Ana immediately mimicked his steps, her mind still swirling from all his moods swings. Taylor was already inside, quietly holding the metallic doors open.

He eyed their exchange curiously, though he maintained a professional posture the whole time. Anastasia Steele was certainly not what he was expecting when he was sent to pick his boss's fiancée, but the change was welcomed. The girl was tiny but had a feisty bone within her body. Her attitude was unpretentious – refreshing.

Whoever she was, she might just be what Mr. Grey needed.

xxxx

Wary eyes asserted the whole room. It was spacious – more than spacious. It was the biggest bedroom Anastasia had ever set a foot inside. It was amazing and overwhelming at the same time. The brightness of the walls seemed to swallow her – she was out of place. Everything was classy and imposing, and she felt as if her scrawny body and threadbare bag were tainting the spotless division.

The color scheme revolved around various shades of white and light-grey. It gave a cold, clinical sensation to the room but Ana wasn't one to complain about finicky matters. Plus, the entire place could have been bereft of any kind of furniture and she would still fall in love with it, such was the beauty of the view. Floor-to-ceiling windows unfolded the busy life of Seattle right before her curious eyes.

It took her breath away.

Ana walked slowly towards the shinny glass and timidly traced its surface with her index finger. The sky was a rosy veil dissipating into the concrete mishmash of buildings, cars and peoples. It was such a different experience from her small and cozy haven back in Vancouver – she wondered if she would ever get used to it.

An unconscious and shy smile danced at the corners of her mouth. Regardless of her fears, Anastasia was fascinated – entranced. Being there, so high up, gazing down at the mundane display of life and agitation, completely transfixed her thoughts. It really was beautiful and, somewhat, peaceful.

Leaned against the doorframe, suspiciously eyeing his fiancée's reaction, Christian frowned. The little brunette was smiling again and he couldn't help but stare, bemused with her behavior. Not once, when he showed her the house, did Anastasia Steele rejoice about having moved into one of the most coveted penthouses in the whole city. In fact, she seemed rather uncomfortable with the obvious luxury.

And even now, of all things she could care about, she chose to get marveled with something as banal as the landscape the bedroom's windows gave access to. It was strange and unexpected. Christian was ready to deal with a power-hungered slut, who would drool over his possessions, but with a quiet, closed-off girl? He just didn't know how to act.

Throughout the whole time, Anastasia had been acting modestly. And that, messed with his brain. Could it really be that he was wrong about her nature? Could it be that he made a lapse in his judgment?

No, that was simply unconceivable. Christian Grey was, with all certainty, a great character's evaluator. Her attitude had to be an act – a scheme to warm his heart. That possibility made him groan in annoyance. Ana jumped, startled by the sound, and turned around quickly. She had completely forgotten about his presence.

"Is everything according to your tastes?" He asked politely though his voice was so cold, Anastasia's spine frozen while hearing it.

"Yes," She whispered lowly, unsure if she had shown any signs of displeasure that could have angered him.

"Good," He said, taking a step back, trying to put as much distance between their – already faraway – bodies as possible. "I'll let you settle in. If you need anything, just ask Gail – she'll probably be in the kitchen. I don't want to be disturbed."

"O-Okay…" Why was he so upset? His tone was as sharp as a knife and Anastasia couldn't, for the love of God, understand what had put him in such a dark mood.

Christian nodded stiffly and turned around, ready to leave. He took a step, but then hesitated. Turning his head sideways, his gaze searched Ana's.

"Oh," He added dispassionately. "We'll attend a family dinner on Friday night. It's to announce our engagement."

Anastasia gulped. She faced the window again, unable to stand his raw and penetrating gaze a second longer. "So soon?" She squeaked almost in panic.

"I thought we both had agreed that a quick wedding was the best option." His voice rippled with irritation.

With a slow sigh, the brunette nodded. "Yes, of course," Indeed rapidness would be the best, she was just scared and quite unprepared to deal with the situation, but she would never admit that to Christian. "Friday sounds appropriate." Her words came out weak and hesitant.

She didn't have the stomach to witness Christian's reaction to her response. He simply walked away though. And she stood there, frozen, hearing the noise of his retracting steps fade-away into the quietness of the house.

Friday. That was just two days away.

Anastasia leaned her forehead against the chilly glass of the window and blew out a strangled breath. Everything was happening too fast – she wasn't used to this frenetic timetable. This lifestyle was new and unnerving. And the last thing she wanted was to meet the entire Grey family and announce this sudden and unexpected engagement in the space of two days.

At least I get to see Grace again. She tried to cheer herself up, but even the flimsy positive aspects couldn't subdue the negative ones.

"Well, there's no escaping now," She spoke to her own reflection on the window. "It's time to put the big girl panties on."

Anastasia could only hope the 'big-girl-panties' would serve as an amulet and give her the necessary strength to face the 180 degree spin her life was about to suffer.