Okay guys here you go. I don't know how to break it to you, and please understand when I say, I have to take a couple days off. I probably won't post again until Monday. Groceries to buy, houses to clean, husbands to check on make sure they're still breathin,. well just one husband. I also need to focus on my other story, as it's in a tricky place. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the feedback. It's been amazing. I'll say it again. You guys f*******g rock. And yes I do kind of get the irony of the little stars when my writing is chock full of dirty words. Eh, what you gonna do.
Christian
Grey gently removed the tissue, wading it up and stuffing it in his pocket. They needed her medical history There was no way he'd risk it. He'd have to tell Maurice and Stan, as owners of the club, if anything happened they were liable.
But first, he whipped out his phone, and dialed Marie Hastings, his head of human resources. It was after hours, but he was the boss, so fuck it.
"Hello..."
"Mrs. Hastings, it's Grey."
"Oh, Mr. Grey, good evening, what can..."
"Olivia Swanson, is fired, as of now. She is not to darken the door of Grey House again. I want her desk cleared out, and everything gone tonight."
There was a brief moment of silence, then "Yes, yes, of course, um and what should I say is the reason?"
"Reason?" his voice turned to ice, since when did he need a reason, it was his damn company.
"Well, just for the paperwork..." Hastings stammered, "legal likes to have one..."
"Gross. Incompetence." he bit out, "Will that work?"
"Yes, yes, perfect."
"Tonight, Marie."
"Yes, yes..."
She was still mumbling yes's when he disconnected.
He looked up to see Maurice was back, turning the keys over to the little kick-ass he caught Wyatt watching him, with an odd look on his face, and Grey realized his hand had been stroking Ana's hair, since she fell in his lap. He thought about stopping, but didn't. He'd read a medical study that found that stroking hair lowered your blood pressure. Yes, the study specifically dealt with stroking a cat's hair, but there wasn't one available. So after the night he'd had if he wanted to stroke the hair of the unconscious girl in his lap, he damn well would. It relaxed him.
Wyatt, turned away, but not before he noted the grin on his face, and that just pissed him off.
"This is not Anne Tinsley."
"What?" Wyatt spun back around. He wasn't grinning now.
"What do you mean..." Maurice sputtered, but was interrupted by Lena's "Anne Tinsely hell, no. Her name is Anastasia Steele. She's a student at Portland State University. Senior year, English major, loves the classics. You know, Bronte', Austin, and all that jazz."
"What the fuck?" Wyatt spun around, facing her
"How did you..."
She interrupted Maurice again, "Fingerprints, lifted them off her glass."
"She's in the system?" Wyatt asked, incredulous.
"Not like your thinking. Her parents had her fingerprinted. You know, it was the thing a few years ago, before parents started using electronic traces. In case somebody snatched their kid."
"What the hell did she lie..." Maurice looked down at the unconscious woman in Grey's lap, shocked dismay all over his normally harsh features."I can't believe it. Our girl's not like that."
Our girl. What the fuck? Maurice too? Grey pulled Ana closer, and settled for shouting 'Mine' over and over in his head instead of snarling it out loud, throwing her over his shoulder, and running off to find the nearest cave. Christ, he was losing his mind.
"No, she didn't lie..." he shook his head rubbing his free hand over his face
"Oh, Lucy," He looked back up, to see Lena, grinning over at him, the ice blue in her eyes warmed by genuine amusement,"You have some 'splainin' to do."
A half hour later Grey was holding a glass of scotch. He didn't drink liqueur much, but if ever there was a night for it, this was it. Maurice and Wyatt were passing a bottle of bourbon back and forth, having given up on refilling glasses fifteen minutes into his explanation.
"Just so I'm sure I understand," Wyatt took a swig from the bottle and handed it to Maurice, "You had two interviews, one with Anne - the sub, and one with Kate - the ace reporter. Olivia - the ding-bat intern, got handed the job of scheduling when Andrea - the efficient assistant, started puking her guts out halfway through the day, and went home with the flu; resulting in Olivia - the ding-bat flipping the appointments. But Ana - our sweet girl whose allergic to cheap cologne, showed up instead of her room-mate Kate - the Ace reporter, cause she came down with...wait for it...the flu. Mallik - the weasel, dumped his new, state of the art, designer drug in our girl's margarita, thus impairing her senses, and making her more receptive to let's call it... affection. And the cherry on top of this shit sundae: our girl not only physically resembles the sub, but their names are basically interchangeable. Does that sound about right?"
"Yes, yes, I think you've covered it." Except for all that 'our girl' bull-shit. Grey comforted himself by burying his hand under Ana's hair and running his fingers along her silky nape.
"Well, fuck me runnin', if that isn't a shit storm wrapped in a piss tornado," Maurice took a large swallow from the bottle, before Wyatt grabbed it it back.
"It's a cluster-fuck, for sure." Wyatt's eyes roamed over Ana.
"Fate." Lena, spoke for the first time since returning from her trip to her car to retrieve her laptop, demanding his blackberry, with a "don't get snarky, you want those medical records or not?"She'd then plopped down, crossed leg on the floor, and began hacking into confidential medical records.
"Fate?" Grey laughed out loud, "Hardly, this was the incompetence of a former employee."
Lena closed her laptop and jumped up from the floor, "Nah, appointments getting mixed up? That's incompetence. You looking like you're chewing gravel every time one of those two refers to the girl, who you can't seem to stop touching, as 'ours'? That's fate."
Grey didn't have an answer for that logic, so he chose to ignore it.
"Here you go," she handed his blackberry back to him, "you've got her complete medical records, which are fine by the way, social security number, bank accounts the usual...etc...blah...etc..." she waved a careless hand like it was no big deal she'd just loaded illegally obtained documents to his phone, "and as fun as this has been, I'm gonna have to call it a night. I gotta get creepy-pants back to Virginia. Oh, here," she reached inside her shirt pocket and handed him a business card, "In case you need to contact me for something."
"Of course, thank-you for your assistance Miss..." Grey looked down at the card and stopped speaking mid sentence.
"McGovern will do. That's the card I use when I have to go to court. Gotta use legal names and all that."
"Leanna Raven Ward McGovern McIntyre Kane Kinkaid Smyth." he read out loud
"You're shittin' me." Maurice grabbed the card out of his hand, "What the fuck, girl..."
"It's a long story boys, and you wouldn't believe me, anyway. But just so you know," she locked her eyes on him, "I'm very good at keeping secrets Mr. Grey, if you need me to sign something, I'll be glad to, but the women in my family have been keeping secrets for over five hundred years, ones that would make that gorgeous head of hair of yours fall out, grow back gray, and curl. This," she waved her hand around, "Hell, it's not even a footnote."
Grey didn't have a clue how to respond to that statement, so he settled for, "Good to know, I'll have my attorney contact you."
"Sure, no problem. Well, adios kids. It's been fun," she sauntered to the doorway, then paused, shooting him a look over her shoulder, "Oh and Grey, when fate comes knockin', it's best to just go on and open the door, if you don't, it'll just blast the thing right off it's hinges, and while the end result is the same, it can be a hell of a mess." and with that last bit of bizarre wisdom, Leanna Raven Ward McGovern McIntyre Kane Kinkaid Smyth, turned and left.
"Well, uh, anybody got a plan?" Maurice ventured.
Before Grey could respond he felt something wiggling right up against his..."Shit!"
Ana was awake, her face turned into his crotch and nuzzling all over him.
"Ana, baby," he put his hands on either side of her head and turned her from his rapidly growing erection. Shooting a glance over at Maurice and Wyatt, who had gone suspiciously silent. Wyatt was studying the label on the now half empty, bottle of whiskey, and Maurice seemed equally fascinated by the back of his hand. Both were grinning like fools.
"Adoooonis," she squealed like they were long lost friends. Half pushing and half wriggling her way up his body. He reached out to steady her beside him, but she kept on wriggling until she straddled his lap, her skirt hiked up around her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her hands in his hair, and sat right down on him, hot and, God help him, wet. Wiggling around all over his dick, which was now hard as stone. "Hi." she whispered. Her face nuzzling his neck,
"Damn," Wyatt's voice.
He shot him a look that caused CEO's to piss their pants in the boardroom.
"Well, it's just a mighty nice way to say hello, is all. A man could get used to it, is all I'm sayin'"
"Ain't that the truth." Maurice's eyes had glazed over.
"Yummy, yummy, yummy," Ana repeated over and over in a sing-song voice, her little tongue coming out as she licked her way up his neck and across his chin, and, oh shit, started nibbling on his ear.
Christ, he was going to come in his pants.
"Well, I can see why Lena said the hospital wasn't the best idea." Wyatt observed, over the laughter rolling in his chest, "They'd have to tie her down."
"Ooooooh," she pulled back, so fast he had to reach out, and grab her waist to keep her from falling over, "Kiinkeeee," then in what she thought was a whisper, but wasn't even close, "Will you tie me up?" before his poor brain could recover from that delicious question. Her eyes went wide,"Oh, I know, I know, I know," and Oh Fucking Hell! Grey's eyes crossed, she started bouncing up and down on him, in her excitement about what ever the hell it was she suddenly knew, "I'll tie you up, naked. then I can just lick you aaaall over." then she closed her eyes on a dreamy little sigh, and buried her head in his neck again, whispering,"Over and over and over."
"Oh, lord help me." Maurice whispered.
"Shit, what a visual."
And it was that comment from Wyatt, that got Grey moving, "Alright, I'm taking her to Escala for the night. I'll call you in the morning. We'll discuss it then." and with that he stood, Ana still plastered to him, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist.
"Grey," Wyatt stood, "she's been drugged, and well, while she's not a member of the club, it happened here, and I feel like I'm responsible for her."
"You're not." Grey corrected him.
"Right. Well, I see she's become rather attached to you, but I need your assurance..."
"Hell, Wyatt, what do you think I am. I'm not in the habit of molesting drugged up innocents."
"Uh, Grey," Maurice stood, his eyes on Ana, who had closed her lips on the lobe of his ear, and was, ah, fuck, lapping at it with her tongue, sweet little satisfied moans coming from her throat, "I don't think you're gonna be the one doin' the molesting."
"Yeah, she's definitely gone from the happy stage straight onto hor..."
"I'll handle it." he said succinctly, cutting Wyatt off, without breaking his stride. Walking out the door and down the back hallway, "Call Taylor, tell him to meet me at the back."
"Yeah, okay, sure, as you've got your hands full and all." Maurice called after him, then under his breath, but still loud enough for Grey to make out, "Damn, Devil's own luck is right."
"Shit, Grey," Wyatt's voice followed him out the of door, and into the damp night air,"You should have promoted the ding-bat instead of firing her."
