E.L James owns this amazing trilogy

Chapter 7: The stranger

"Sometimes you need to run away just to see who will come after you." ~Lisa Brooks

"What?" I said unable to control the anger and frustration pulsating within me as I look at the report. At the end of each month, all department heads are scheduled to meet with me to discuss issues and development on all things GEH including hiring and firing personnel. I insist on hiring nothing but top candidates and I like to make sure everyone's working their ass off; I want to get what I pay for my employees. I reserve the meeting with the HR/Personnel director until last, as her reports include possible new recruits, people that are subject to a performance raise or promotions and lastly, list of people that have been in the firing range or in short people who have been dismissed. Everything on the first two reports are up to par that is until I get to the last folder which contains the list and names of the personnel that have been on the firing range. I scanned through the names and files and HR explains the reasons why they are no longer with GEH. I never really mind until my eyes focus on one of the files with the name Anastasia Rose Steele written on top.

"Err… Her job performance greatly deteriorated Mr. Grey; for a new hire, she has been missing a lot of work and have been out of focus, according to her supervisor. HR had no choice but to terminate the contract and find a more suit—" Veronica Sanders, GEH human resource director said stopping at what must've looked like the scariest thing she's ever seen, my death glare.

"Understood. That concludes the meeting Ms. Sanders" I said dismissing her. She scurried away looking as if her puppy died, but I don't give a flying fuck. I punched the intercom and asked Andrea to get a hold of both Taylor and Welch. I've asked them to try to trace her after not being able to contact her last night or this morning. Just a glitch. It should just be a glitch. Grabbing my phone, I stood up to face the unusually warm Seattle afternoon and tried calling the number once again hoping that maybe there's just a glitch with the phone companies or she just ignored her phone until the battery ran out, like she always does. I remember that I had to punish her once for it; but just like last night and this morning, I hear the same message:

"The number you have dialed is no longer active"

Fuck. Anger flared within me and seconds later, the phone I've been holding is shattered on the floor. What the fuck happened to her and where the fuck is she? Christ! Two stupid questions and I've only got one fucking answer: it's entirely my fucking fault. What happened to her is on me, wherever she is, is entirely my fucking fault. No, God damn it what the fuck is happening to me? I shouldn't be fucking worrying about her, the contract is done, but then again she's my responsibility I dragged her into this sick fucked up circle – my fucked up life and now she suffering because of… God damn it Grey, fix this! I heard another crashing sound; another piece of something hitting the floor and shattering into a million pieces under my hands and then I hear someone gasp. I turned to see that Andrea and Taylor standing by the door

"Err… Mr. Grey, I'll have Barney replace your phone and call the cleaning crew to take care of the mess, Sir" Andrea said scurrying out the door

"Welch is on line 2 Sir" Taylor said. I walked towards my desk and punched the line.

"Welch"

"Sir" I hear him answer

"News?" I said

"Sir it appears that Ms. Steele deactivated the phone account about three weeks ago, which explains why you can't reach the number anymore" he said and I heard myself groan

"Anything else" I said glaring at Taylor

"Sir it appears that she sold a lot of her belongings Sir. Her laptop, the car, books and a lot of clothing,Sir. Her bank records show a lot of money coming in, that and the fact that she and her friends initially set-up an account on eBay and Amazon to sell things, but they never used it. The page has been closed since roughly the same time she deactivated her phone"

"I see. Does she have a new number?" I asked bitterly

"It's not indicated Sir"

"Anything else?"

"Err… she settled all her bills Sir before…" Welch answered and I could hear clicking and shuffling as if he's looking for something

"Before…"

"Before she left Seattle Sir" he finally said. My fist hit the desk and made a distinct sound. Taylor flinched

"What the fuck! Where did she go and when did this happen?"

"She left Seattle about three days after she sold her belongings. That is roughly three weeks ago Sir" he said and I felt my knees buckle. She really left.

"Do you know where she went?" I said through gritted teeth, as I barely controlled whatever it is I'm feeling. Anger and something else that I can't explain… just the hollow feeling in my chest that seems to be spreading through my lungs, constricting them and preventing me from breathing properly

"She purchased a one way ticket from Air-France Sir, that's all I can find. The databases with airlines are hard to crack. I'm sorry, but we can assume that her destination is nowhere in the United States" he finally said.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Where the fuck did she go?

"Find her"

"If I had enough money; I'd buy myself a house here Kate it's so beautiful" I said gushing at the beautiful scenery around me. Cote D'azur is like heaven on earth. I have arrived in the city of Monaco mid-morning and here I am in a small café overlooking the ocean, disposable phone in hand, talking to my best friend, who is sulking in her bed in Seattle. Monte Carlo – a vibrant city by the French Riviera; a place known for its picturesque views of the Mediterranean, the casino, the cars – circuit de Monaco and for American's like me, Grace Kelly. It is a place where living the high-end and not to mention, luxurious life, seems very mandatory. Expensive looking cars are everywhere, men dressed in luxurious suits like James Bond and the women who looked they came out of a magazine or were Bond girls, depending on the view point. Beautiful place, beautiful people, expensive life – not me. Okay, so maybe this place isn't for me; but a girl can dream right? This place is perfect for someone like… 'Don't even go there Steele' my subconscious warned

"I know; I'm so jealous right now, ugh. So, what's the plan?" Kate grumbled effectively snapping me out of my reverie

"I'm planning on staying in the hotel to rest for a bit; they have a pool" I said casually

"Hmmm spa, lovely" I hear her say begrudgingly

"No, just the pool" I giggled taking a sip of my drink

"How long are you staying there?"

"Two days; tonight and tomorrow then I leave the next day to Cannes where I'll probably stay for another two days" I said feeling the hollow pain in my chest, as I realize that I have no choice but to go back after this. 'Says who? You're still visiting your mom in Georgia. Browse for possible employment in New York, DC and Chicago… the possibilities are endless Steele' my subconscious reasoned.

"When are you coming back?"

"After I visit mom in Georgia; she's been pretty upset and worried" Coming back… just to pick up my stuff, I thought to myself, but wisely choose not to say it out loud

"She's not alone; I'm with her. I'm upset coz I'm here in dreary Seattle while you're somewhere nice and cozy. Been worried about you Steele… I have this feeling… oh never mind, just tell me what you're up to" she said

"Touristy stuff Kate; I'll swing by the Monte Carlo casino after this or maybe tonight; I won't gamble, just look, then I don't know, eat more food, then go see Monaco Cathedral, Napoleon Museum and of course the palace"

"Sounds fun. Have you met any cute Italian or Frenchmen yet?" she piped

"Ugh Kate"

"Steele you're not a saint"

"Not talking about that" I said rather harshly

"Alright, alright I just thought… well dating someone else is a rather great form of revenge" she said pacifyingly

"I don't want to talk about him Kate. Please drop it"

"Fine"

"Sorry; I just… well"

"I know Steele, I understand…" Kate said softly "did you get me some souvenirs?" she added effectively ending that subject for which I am very thankful

"Yes, I got you something in Paris and some other trinkets in Italy" I said and she squealed excitedly.

~oooOooo~

Thank goodness she insisted that I bring at least one bikini, otherwise I would have no choice but to go for another walk. Not that I mind, but I've been walking and walking; it's all I've done the past week. Diving is something else, something different. Something relaxing and somewhat rejuvenating. I spent the rest of the afternoon day soaking and relaxing in the hotel's heated pool after my conversation with Kate and then walked around the harbor and toward the famous casinos. The street is surrounded by shops that sell everything from luxury designer goods to souvenir shops that sell anything from formula-one merchandise to small trinkets. The other side of the strip is surrounded by boats; seriously beautiful and no doubt really expensive boats. Again, a girl can dream.

I spent the next day doing yet another round of touristy stuff; mainly driving around the streets of Monaco in a car that looks like a train. It's a short drive, but nonetheless entertaining, as in a short while I got to see all that Monaco has to offer: Cathedral, the palace, the grand prix and of course the casinos. The other half of my day is spent on the beach, as well as preparing for the next day and next destination: Cannes where I will be spending my last three days of my self-embarked odyssey then back to reality. The last three days in Cannes will be spent a room overlooking the ocean. I planned on going all out: I took advantage of the great concierge service in the hotel by asking them to arrange air transportation, which serves two purposes: one, to see the city from the air; helicopter pilots also serve as tour guides, and two, it only takes fifteen minutes to get to Cannes.

After a rather spectacular air tour, I've arrived in the city of Cannes. Like Monaco, it's another charming city by the French Riviera and is home to the annual Cannes Film Festival. After checking into the hotel, I wonder around the city looking for a nice but reasonable café. The hotel I picked is sitting right across from the ocean. Wondering around with a map, a fully charged phone and camera in hand – total tourist I know, I wondered through the beautiful cobbled streets looking for a small café that serves brunch food. Ten minutes into the walk, I finally found a small café near the end of Gambetta Market in Rue Hoche that serves all kinds of pastries, and to my luck, tea. I walk inside ready for a typical Italian or French restaurant; but this restaurant serves what they claim as the best seafood pasta in town and all sorts of pastries, from macaroons, to croissants, crèmes, cakes, tarts and even English muffins… French style blueberry muffins. I think my heart just crashed.

I don't know what's gotten into me, but here I am sitting in a small café with a glass of wine instead of tea, a plate of seafood pasta and a couple of pastries in front of me. I forced myself to devour the delicious food in front of me. The food is great, I sip the delicious wine, savoring the flavor and look at the last piece of the pastry I bought; a single piece of French style blueberry muffin. A seemingly innocent piece of bread, that somehow put me back to several months ago, six days after meeting a certain enigmatic CEO in Seattle who later walked into my work at Clayton's, and next thing I know we've scheduled to meet him in the hotel he's staying at for a photo-shoot and he's invited me to coffee after the shoot where he… ordered blueberry muffins. 'You know better than to reminisce!' my subconscious muttered

A week in Paris, more than two weeks in Italy, three days in Monaco, a helicopter ride to Cannes and yet here I am, stupidly looking at a single piece of muffin. A single piece of bread is enough to open the wounds I've managed to wrap tightly with gauze and morphine. 'Yeah and rather than walking away and off to the next café, you stayed bought one. What are you a masochist? Do you enjoy pouring acid on an open wound?' my subconscious sneered. She's given up tending to my seemingly dead inner goddess and resolved on locking her in the top of a tower to hibernate. I tried to relax myself, determined to not call and grovel to my best friend for the millionth time and resolved on frantically telling myself that it doesn't hurt anymore, I'm away it's done, you're okay Steele, don't cry this is embarrassing it's just a fucking muffin… look at your travel guide and do something STAT over and over to stop the dam, that had been closed for almost a month now, from ever opening again.

"Is this seat taken?" I hear a voice say. I look up to find a kind looking woman on her fifties, possibly sixties, smiling serenely at me as she waits for my answer. I look around, only to find the open tables 'weird'

"Don't worry my dear, I just noticed that you seem sad and maybe in need of a companion" she said. I look back at her and she smiles and I note her distinctly British accent

"I guess it's fine" I said. She smiles and pulls out the chair in front of me, sitting gracefully as she once again waves her hand for the waiter

"Une thés anglais et deux tartelettes au chocolat s'il vous plaît" she said with a smile. I look at her amazed, she speaks French. Wow

"American?" she said and I nodded

"I'm English; Sara Norwood" she said extending her hand, I looked at it for a moment and took it fearing the contact, but knowing it's rude to not shake. "Ana – Anastasia Steele"

"Pleased to meet you, Ana – Anastasia Steele. Now tell me, what did this poor little muffin do to you?" she said a hint of the smile playing in her face as she eyed me shrewdly

"I'm sorry but I don't think it's any of your —" I said but she interrupted me

"Business; yes, yes its none of my business" she said dismissively, as the server came to bring her order "well, I don't think alcohol is good for an innocent drifter like you; might I suggest tea?" she said motioning for the server to bring one more tea

"No I'm good tha—"

"I'm not taking no for an answer my dear; tea is better than wine; wine or any type alcohol is only good for celebrations not moping, trust me I know" she said vehemently in her British accent. Somehow her statement reminded me of Ray

"There it is… a smile lifts spirits, it's a wonderful day here in the French Riviera; well its always wonderful here" she said looking around before resting her green eyes onto mine as she continued "A gloomy mood isn't a welcome site" she said and I just smiled not wanting to reason, fearing that she might interrupt me once again. I have a feeling that I can't argue with this woman – she will find a way to win at every turn

"So what brings you here if you don't mind an old hag like me asking?" she said after the server arrived with my tea. The old woman – Sara - motioned for the server to take my wine glass away, again I didn't argue. She is right; alcohol is no good for a depressed person like me, it'll only open the flood gates. 'Halleluiah!' my subconscious agreed exasperatingly

"Vacation" I said sipping my tea "Thank you for the tea by the way, you?"

"Oh don't mention it my dear. I'm here on business actually" she said as she arranged the plates of pasties between us. She stopped at the single piece of muffin and gave me a look as she said "shall we throw this thing away?"

"I'm sorry?" I said distractedly

"The muffin my dear; you've been staring at it like it did something to you. Shall we throw it away or ill eat it and you can have one of my pastries" she said matter-of-factly

"Oh sure, you can have it if you want to" I said

"Good; now eat this éclair" she said bossily and before I can refuse her, she interrupted my by saying

"No! I insist. See, I find that when a woman is down or lonely, chocolate is the best answer" she said glaring at me. I'm not sure if I'm scared of her or because my body is on autopilot mode but I took the chocolate éclair and shoved it in my mouth, forgetting all of Kate's warnings about not talking and of course not accepting anything, especially food, from a stranger. The old woman called Sara smiled as if she's smiling fondly at a child; her child and I couldn't help it, I smiled back. The éclair, tastes so good, my taste buds are in heaven after the first bite

"Thank you" I said

"I'm glad you like it. Now, tell me what brings you in this part of the country?"

"Just vacation" I shrugged "Backpacking"

"Hmmm, no offense my dear, but a girl your age usually travels with a companion" she observed

"How can you be sure I don't have a companion?" I said

"Instinct. If you have a companion, then that companion either left you or is doing an awful job keeping you company that you have to resort to chatting with an old hag like me" she said briskly in her British accent that made me chuckle "now what brings a young drifter like you here?" she said titling her head

"I needed a vacation" I shrugged, it's true. 'More like you needed to get away' my subconscious sneered. She looked at me for a moment considering something, I think, and shrugged as if she knew what I was thinking and thought better than to voice it out

"Have you been enjoying yourself? May I ask which places have you visited or is this your first destination?" she said shrilly adeptly wiping her hands with her napkin; the muffin has all but disappeared

"Yes… it's been fun" I said unconvincingly. I'm not sure if 'fun' is the right word "I started in Paris then took the train to Italy, Milan, Florence, Rome, Naples then Monaco and here" I said enumerating all the places I've visited the past weeks, smiling at the good memories, momentarily pushing away the thoughts of… him and sighing at the thought that this trip is about to end. The look on Sara's face is almost comical, she looked as if she's confused or something stopped her from thinking. Finally she frowned and said

"Forgive me, you started of nicely, everything's in order Paris then Italy, but why go back to France? Oh well its none of my business" she said dismissively. 'Hmmm she's good. She got you there… well almost' my subconscious observed

"Monaco and Cannes were last minute decisions" I said

"Oh silly me; of course" she said "I take it you're a first time traveler aren't you?"

I smiled and sighed "yeah, my first time to leave the United States"

"You're not ready to go back" she said and I sighed once again and shook my head

"I don't want to go back to reality just yet"

"Well, you can't be a drifter forever. Everyone will worry, you'll lose your job, and everything in your apartment will rot" she said, almost scolding me. I just looked at her and smiled tightly, well she doesn't know me; she doesn't know that I don't have a lot of reasons to get back… no job, an apartment, yes, but that really isn't mine and not everyone will care if I left and never returned

"Drifter" I said mirroring the words. Perfect word for me I guess, though the word runner will rival it.

"Hmmm" she said again eyeing me shrewdly and again she already knows the answer. I just smiled acknowledging her internal assessment but not voicing it out loud

"I suppose you lost your job" she finally said

"Yeah; got laid off actually hence the vacation or drifting as you call it" I sighed

"That's a shame, what do you do for a living?"

"I was an assistant editor at a publishing house in Seattle"

"Publishing you say? Hmmm so you worked with books?"

"I love books; English literature is my favorite and I'm not saying this because you're English" I said wistfully. Imagining myself in a library full of first edition… 'Don't even go there' my subconscious interrupted as the hallow pain in my chest stirred

"You're not alone on that my dear. Seems like fate brought us here together, how fascinating. Tell me, which books are your favorite aside from Jane Austen" she said rolling her eyes at the predictability that made me laugh

"Alright; Charles Dickens" I acquiesce and just like that, the seemingly awful start of my first day in Cannes changed into one of delight after meeting this woman. Sara Norwood is awfully smart and insightful woman, with a British sense of humor to boot. That and the fact that she knows and loves British Literature like no other, I find myself listening to her tirade about the Bonte sisters to Charles Dickens and even Jane Austen. I laughed at the colorful way she talked about the authors that we both adore, gaped after she presented me with her business card. The card says that Sara Norwood actually owns a publishing house in London

"What's this?" I said

"Well what do you think it is child? It's a bloody business card" she exclaimed

"I know that but…" I said rattled

"Well, I have an appointment, so I should go; this is my way of telling a drifter like you that fate has a funny way of showing us the next direction to take"

"Where did you get that? English proverb?" I said chuckling

"No, old hags know better" she winked "now, should you decide to not go back to Seattle, and I don't know you that well, dear, but you look as if you're not ready to face your reality. So, I'm giving you another option; a new reality, a new life and maybe a job if you pass my interview" she said haughtily

"What makes you think I'll take you up on it old hag?" I smirked, wincing as I try to take the check but her hand slapped mine.

"That's because drifters drift, a smart woman such as yourself doesn't deserve that title and a British literature lover like you should really visit London" she said standing up and motioning for me to follow. I stood up and walked with her to the exit "well I should go; might I suggest that you visit the Île Sainte-Marguerite, it's the single most interesting place for tourists around here" she said in a way that made me chuckle

"It's on top of my list"

"Good, and Anastasia, think about my offer" she said seriously as she turned and headed the other way.

Missy's Notes: Thank you for your continued support on both my stories! Your reviews, follows and favorites keep me going even when I'm having shittiest week (real life suck! boo!). On this chapter, you were all introduced to Ana's would-be friend, mentor & teacher Sara Norwood, founder and original owner of Norwood Publishing. Picture the great Helen Mirren as Sara (I wanted Meryl Streep but she isn't British). I hope the old hag made a lasting impression on you guys. The other context of this chapter is that Ana is having what I call a 'why Georgia' moment which basically means, she's trying to figure out what she will do next as she doesn't see herself going back to Seattle anymore. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and as always please forgive my errors.

Reviews are appreciated! :)