Crisis seemingly averted, they returned to mingling and networking. Ana was more subdued but held her own, talking about literature and babies and whatever else was asked of her. Christian kept Ana by his side as he resumed his business-like manner with the corporate bigwigs in attendance, skipping the small talk with his usual blunt CEO style.
"That stock's shot to shit," he told one of the suits dismissively. Inside though he was a ball of nerves. Was Ana still hurt? Was she going to close herself off? Fuck he couldn't stand the thought of her retreating from him.
He'd only left her side for a minute when Grace came by, marching over to Taylor to make sure a certain doctor had left the building. "How the fuck did she get in here," he bellowed to his head of security. Unfazed by his boss's anger after all these years, Taylor told him that Dr. Ballast and her guest had already departed and that he was going to review all the security procedures to ensure this kind of breach never happened again. "We'll be keeping closer tabs to make sure none of them are ever within the vicinity of Mrs. Grey again," he pledged.
"You better Taylor," Christian said, his voice menacingly calm and low. "This won't fucking happen again. I want to go over everything in detail with you later tonight to personally ensure that it won't. Never. Do I make myself clear?"
With Taylor's nod, Christian headed back to his wife, freezing in his tracks when he spotted her laughing with a dark-haired, debonair douchebag who was hanging on her every word. What the fuck? What the flying fuck?
He was back by her side in an instant, sliding his arm around her waist, though he avoided pulling her too roughly to him. He'd learned that lesson the hard way after his last jealous flip-out when Ana chewed him out for being "a possessive, paranoid, control freak numnut." Numnut was better than arse, he thought at the time, though he still wondered how she got a degree in English lit.
He might've been less of a numnut this time around, but he was damn sure going to show this fucker whom Ana belonged to. "I'm Christian Grey, Ana's husband," he declared, giving said fucker a firm handshake and pulling himself up to his full height.
"Oh Christian this is Stephen Blaine. He's one of the authors we just signed," Ana said, trying to put out the impending fire.
What the fuck — she's going to be working with this piece of shit! And she never mentioned this to me? Christian was determined to shut this down, now.
"Please call me Steve." Yeah, I'll be sure to do that dipshit, Christian almost said out loud. "I'm really looking forward to working with Grey Publishing. Ana has proposed some wonderful ideas to help market my new book. I can't wait."
I'm sure you can't wait, Christian thought, but you will.
"In fact, I'm going in next week to go over the marketing plan and book launch."
Oh hell no. Christian's jaw tightened and his face transformed into hard-set lines as he looked down at Ana, practically speechless. She quickly moved to extinguish his imminent meltdown.
"Actually I'll probably just stop by the group meeting," she said, emphasizing the word "group." "Claire has the lead on Stephen's book but I'd like to lend some ideas. He's written about overcoming childhood cancer and it's a compelling story of courage that I think so many people can relate to," she said, looking up at her irate husband and pleading with him to stay calm.
Oh fuck, Christian thought, he's a damn hero — just great. I don't care. I'm still going to knock his ass out.
Instead, though, Christian began practicing the breathing techniques Flynn had taught him to use in moments like these so that he wouldn't embarrass Ana. He forced a smile and kissed her temple to signal that he was in control, no matter how tenuously.
"So is this your first book Mr. Blaine?" Blaine, what kind of fucking name is that? Wasn't that from some '80s movie Ana likes to watch?
"Yep. I hesitated to take pen to paper for years but then finally took the leap. I'm just so glad I can share my story and hopefully inspire others. Your wife made some fantastic edits to my manuscript. It's never easy for a writer to take criticism but I have to admit it really improved the final book. She has a tremendous eye for her craft."
Christian instantly thought about punching Stephen's eye out. Craft my ass. Breathe, breathe, breathe.
"Well believe me it's never easy for an editor to criticize writers. You guys are a sensitive bunch," Ana joked, rubbing Christian's back in an attempt to soothe her very tense husband. "But I'm so grateful to get to do what I love every day. It's not an opportunity everyone gets and I feel incredibly lucky to have it," she cleverly added, glancing in Christian's direction.
He smiled at her subtle compliment. She'd been so angry when he bought SIP years ago but she had finally embraced her natural talents and was stepping into the leadership role he always knew would fit her.
"My wife is the most talented person I know. Believe me, I know it's not always easy to take her criticism, but in the end it always makes me a better man," Christian said earnestly, never breaking eye contact with the woman next to him.
Tears welled up in Ana's eyes and he leaned down to wipe them away and kiss her temple again. Stephen all of a sudden looked uncomfortable and out of place, precisely the way Christian wanted him to feel.
Christian saw the look on Stephen's face once he tore his own gaze from Ana. It was one of envy, of wistfulness. This man coveted his wife and that knowledge was still eating him up inside despite the intimate moment he'd just shared with Ana.
"Well I better get going. Mr. Grey it was lovely to meet you and Ana I'll see you next week," Stephen said as he promptly excused himself.