As much as Anastasia refused the car, the Audi was exhilaratingly fun. Driving the red sports car made her adrenaline spike, and she pretended to be in a car chase with someone, as if she were in a movie. Telling herself over and over that this wasn't her car, she smiled the entire time while driving it, playing with Christian's new gift and toy. Despite not driving for a long period of time, the surgeon was still able to handle the car with ease. She drove back to her apartment complex and was there within minutes.
The brunette greeted Janice at the front desk as she always did but was surprised to get a polite greeting back. She hurried up her flight of stairs before opening her apartment. She pulled out the original carry-on suitcase she first used for Seattle and packed three business-casual outfits for her exam and then two casual outfits to explore the city of San Francisco. She smiled to herself, thinking of showing Dr. Deluca around; there was always amazing food out there to have. She frowned shortly after, wishing she could do that with Christian instead.
With toiletries and clothes packed (with tampons packed because of Mother Nature's inconvenient and unfortunate visit), the young surgeon was ready to fly out to California. In the short amount of time that she had been there in Seattle, she found it funny and amusing how she was already coming back to her original home. The brunette left the keys to her new Audi in her apartment, deciding to walk to the hospital since she would be traveling with Dr. Deluca. Also, she didn't feel like showing off her new car or explaining how she got it.
The surgeon's phone suddenly began to ring. It was Jackson. "Hello?"
"Ana," the plastic surgeon greeted, being able to hear his smile. "The shuttle bus for the airport is here for you."
"I'm walking my way there from my apartment right now," she explained.
"I'll see you soon, then!" Jackson exclaimed.
She giggled, "Okay. Bye."
Anastasia arrived to the gathering at the emergency ambulance bay just as she predicted within the few minutes of her arrival. Residents were already packing their bags into the bus while picking up forms and paperwork from Dr. Webber and Chief Bailey. Those that were finished picking up their items were given little tips and pep talks from their supporting attendings. She could hear Bailey's booming voice from down the bay as she headed towards the large vehicle.
"Anastasia!" Dr. Deluca yelled with waving hands. "Come sit with me! I'll save a spot on the bus for you!"
Putting her thumb up at him, the young surgeon rolled luggage to her bosses, staying in line to pick up her itinerary and packet. When it was her turn to pick up her things, Dr. Webber nervously went through the alphabetical list of his files.
"Is there a problem?" The young surgeon squeaked.
Distressed, she thought to herself, Great. Just before I was about to leave.
He chuckled, trying to hide his expression as he put on his glasses, "No, no. No problem, I'm just trying to find your name. It must be my eyes because I can't read this tiny print."
The brunette watched her director skim through his files twice. She chewed her lip, staring at the people behind her waiting in line.
"Oh, I apologize, Richard. I have Dr. Steele's folder." A familiar voice called.
Jackson. Turning back around, Anastasia smiled to the handsome plastic surgeon holding her packet.
Dr. Webber grumbled, "I'd kindly ask if you didn't rummage through my things, Dr. Avery." The director of the residency program scolded Jackson with the emphasis of his name. "It would make things more convenient, and the line would move more quickly. Move along, Dr. Steele, and good luck to you," he smiled kindly and called the next person as the brunette stepped aside.
A grinning plastic surgeon beckoned Anastasia with his hand. His optimistic attitude was contagious, and she teased him with a reflecting grin, "Do you always mess up other people's plans? Webber definitely wasn't having it. I could see the panic in his eyes."
"Ah, he'll be fine," Jackson shrugged. "I try to stay out of trouble, and I usually am out of it most of the time. I just wanted to give you the proper good bye after giving you some advice, one surgeon to another." He handed her itinerary and forms to her. The plastic surgeon wanted to help the young resident any way they can.
Lifting a brow, she mused, "Advice?" Her eyes brightened with curiosity and excitement. She would take anything she could get from people she idolized. "Okay, Avery. Let's hear it."
"But first," he started, "I wanted to talk to you about the award ceremony from my foundation. All the nominees will be there, and it's this fancy dinner to celebrate all the surgical innovation before we announce the winner. It takes place in New York at 6:00 p.m on Saturday, June 2nd—two weeks from now. I'll send you the address in an email later on, but I just wanted to get that out of the way first because you need to be there. Everyone wants to meet you." It was as if the brunette didn't have a choice to begin with, but she was excited to go, obviously.
Hoping that Christian would go and it would please him, Anastasia asked, "Can I bring a plus one?"
"Of course! Bring all the important people that should celebrate that night. It's not just about one winner, even if the anticipation leads to that announcement. It's a dinner that honors the surgeons that are keeping the spirit of surgery alive," he grinned. "It'll all be in the email I send you later on."
Okay, great. I hope Christian would go with me. I think that would count as "more," though.
The plastic surgeon cleared his throat, "So, my advice—have salmon for dinner, and tell room service to not have it be frozen. You lose Omega-3s if it's frozen."
She blinked, making a face before laughing quietly, "That's your advice, Jackson?"
He started to laugh, "No. That's just what my mentor told me the day I was standing here like you."
"Oh." Anastasia chuckled lightly, "I like that, keeping the tradition alive. It must've worked, considering where you're standing now. I'll be sure to remember that." She had a personal inquiry, nervously asking, "How was it? When you went to your boards?"
"Terrible," the plastic blurted in a serious tone.
The young resident widened her eyes as fear crept in her body and heart. Noticing her reaction, he recovered and re-explained his honesty, "But it wasn't because of the test." He turned to Dr. Webber, rolling his eyes before leaning into the brunette's ear with a murmur, "I found out Webber was having sex with my mom during my trip there."
She wasn't sure if her eyes could widen any more than they could, bulging them out from the shocking news, "What? How did you find out?"
"My mom had my lucky pencil and—"
"Hold on—now there's a lucky pencil?" Anastasia leaned back with a lifting brow again, snickering to herself.
The plastic surgeon rolled his eyes and grinned, explaining quickly "Yeah, yeah. Make fun. It was just the pencil I used to ace my SATs, MCAT, and my first intern test." He brushed the comment off with his hand, "That's not the story, though. My mom was one of the examiners at the event, and she had my pencil. I went up to pick it up at her hotel room, and Richard opened the door."
"Oh." The young surgeon was unsure of what to say, placing herself in his shoes and finding it uncomfortable.
"In a bathrobe," Jackson further clarified, head shaking with a face of disgust.
"Oh…" God… Needless to say, the female surgeon got the picture, blinking away from Jackson's gaze and avoiding eye-contact with Richard. She thought to herself, Although, it was probably for the best. They're both happily married now.
He added, "Also, there was a girl that I was seeing and was into. She was a major distraction throughout my trip, but I landed on my feet pretty okay I'd like to think.
"Well, uh… thank you for that," she chuckled.
She rolled her luggage toward the bus, but listened to the plastic surgeon follow quickly behind, shooting words of advice at rocket-speed, "Look at your examiner in the eye, but don't stare at them. Don't rush your answers, either. Take time to compose yourself, but don't take too long."
Anastasia paused for a second, taking in the information as she took a deep breath. She nodded quickly before pushing her luggage under the trunk of the shuttle.
She stared into his determined blue-green eyes, and he continued, "Don't overthink the questions. They'll try to throw you off, but don't let them; just listen carefully. They want standard protocol, not cutting edge."
"Right, okay," the brunette exhaled deeply. Anxiety was worrying her, but she reassured herself as best she could to relax.
"This is a test in proficiency, and you and I both now how proficient you are when you work, Miss Steele Method." Jackson reassuringly smiled at her and nudged his shoulder against hers. "You're proficient in your sleep, so make sure you get a lot of sleep."
"I will," Anastasia nodded as confidence finally flowed into her.
Jackson's hands were at both her shoulders, staring firmly with a gentle smile. He repeated, "You got this. So, kick ass, Steele."
His arms opened up for an embrace and the young surgeon walked into his arms. He rubbed her back gently while her arms hugged him. Letting go of his embrace, she was ready to take on the exam—his talk was just the right confidence booster she needed. Climbing up the bus, she heard him shout, "Good luck, Anastasia!"
She waved her final good bye to the sea blue-eyed plastic surgeon before taking a seat beside a Dr. Deluca. He shifted in his seat as he scooted along the edge and closer to the window. Smiling and taking her seat with him, he asked, "Are you ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be, Andrew" Anastasia sighed.
"One in five people fail their boards," he spoke grimly.
Patting his hand gently, the young surgeon determined, "Well, four in five people pass the boards, and that'll be us."
"Easy for you to say, Miss Catherine Fox Award," Andrew grumbled.
The young surgeon laughed while the bus started, driving out of the ambulance bay, "Oh, would you let that go? I won't win at this point as everyone keeps mentioning it."
On their way to the airport as Andrew studied his notecards aloud, Anastasia decided sending a quick email from her phone to the man occupying her thoughts.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Airport
Date: May 14, 2018 15:16
To: Christian Grey
Sir,
I am on a shuttle bus with my fellow acquaintances on our way to the airport, packed and ready to go. Thought you might be interested.
How was your day so far?
Ana
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
Ignoring her phone for the entirety of the bus ride, Anastasia tested Andrew using his flashcards, helping him out with hints and using their made-up word associations for the exam. After picking up her bag from the shuttle bus's trunk, the young surgeon checked her phone with an email waiting for her reply as she headed into Sea-Tac.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: My day
Date: May 14, 2018 15:32
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele,
Everything you do interests me. You are the most fascinating woman I know.
I'm glad things are going as planned for you.
As for my day—my morning was beyond all expectations, but my afternoon is very dull in comparison at the moment.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holding Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Fine Mornings
Date: May 14, 2018 16:06
To: Christian Grey
Dear Sir,
The morning was exemplary for me, too; it was a first for me with your impeccable desk sex.
Thank you for breakfast—or thank Mrs. Jones for me. I have a few questions about her if you don't mind me asking or you weirding out on me.
Ana
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
She hit send before getting in line for security screening. TSA was surprisingly kind to her today. Slipping on her shoes, she checked her glaring phone as a notification repeated its reminder.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: A way with words
Date: May 14, 2018 16:17
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia,
"Weirding" is not a verb and should not be used by a promising surgeon.
Impeccable? Compared to what, pray tell?
And what do you need to ask about Mrs. Jones? I'm intrigued.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
"I'm going to use the bathroom, real quick," Dr. Deluca said, "Watch my things for me?"
Anastasia nodded, "You got it." She sat down, bringing his luggage close to hers and placing a bag on a seat beside her to save his spot. The young surgeon returned to her phone and began typing.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: You and Mrs. Jones
Date: May 14, 2018 16:25
To: Christian Grey
Dear Sir,
Language evolves just as humans and life does. It's an organic thing, not stuck in an ivory tower with hanging expensive works of art while overlooking most of Seattle.
Impeccable—compared to the other times we have… What's your word? Oh, yes… fucked. The overall fucking has been pretty impeccable, really—but what do I know? I have very limited experience as you would know.
My question: Is Mrs. Jones an ex-sub of yours?
Ana
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Language. Watch Your Mouth!
Date: May 14, 2018 16:31
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia,
Mrs. Jones is a valued employee. I have never had any relationship with her beyond our professional one and that goes for everyone that I employ. I do not employ anyone I've had any sexual relationships with. I am shocked that you would think so. The only person I would make an exception to this rule is you—because you are a bright young woman with remarkable skills on your belt and I am not referring to negotiating or saving lives.
Though, if you continue using such language, I may have to reconsider taking you on here.
I am glad you have limited experience. Your experience will continue to be limited—just to me. I shall take impeccable as a compliment—though with you, I'm never sure if that's what you mean, or if your sense of irony is getting the better of you as usual.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holding Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Not for all the tea that you own
Date: May 14, 2018 16:33
To: Christian Grey
I think I have already expressed my reservations about working for your company.
My views on this have not changed and will not change.
Ana
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Even Twinnings English Breakfast Tea?
Date: May 14, 2018 16:35
To: Anastasia Steele
I can be persuasive, Miss Steele. Have you reached the airport yet?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
He must've heard my conversation with Mrs. Jones, she thought to herself as her favorite tea appeared as the subject header.
An interruption distracted the brunette from replying back. Dr. Deluca came back with a sigh, appearing rushed and out of breath, "Sorry, about the wait. I couldn't find the bathroom and then there was a long line."
"It's not a problem, Andrew, at least you made it. Let's go get checked in, now," Anastasia declared with a smile, rolling her bag to the line formed at the front of her gate.
When it was her turn to check-in and stand in line, waiting with her carry-on luggage, the young man behind the desk held up his hand. Without looking and a disinterested tone of voice, he asked, "Ticket, please?"
The young surgeon handed her identification and her ticket to the bored man. His voice changed as he stated from his monitor, "Okay, Miss Steele. You've been upgraded to first class."
Her head whipped to a confused Andrew, seeing him shake his head and nonverbally answer the question in her head that he had nothing to do with it. She turned her head back to the man and asked, "I'm sorry. What?"
"First class," he repeated. "Ma'am, if you'd like, you could go through to the first class lounge to await your flight there." His mood changed, beaming at the brunette with a light in his eyes.
"There's a mistake. I just bought a regular ticket," she corrected, calling out the memory of ordering her plane ride in the cafeteria with Dr. Deluca.
"No, no." The man checked his computer screen again, pointing as he simpered, "Anastasia Steele. Upgrade."
Andrew shrugged with a smile, "Take it—I would."
The man handed Anastasia her boarding pass while her eye twitched and narrowed at the pass. He ushered her towards the lounge as the young surgeon rolled her bag in the direction he pushed her. This was Christian's doing and no one else's—an interfering control freak that wouldn't leave the girl alone. She felt bad for leaving Dr. Deluca by himself. They were supposed to study together and accompany one another, but she reassured herself that he would be okay, assuming she'd be a distraction in his studying if she were beside him.
The first class lounge had many complimentary features. At first she turned down the Moet champagne (wanting to stay sober until after her exams) but after that, the brunette was massaged and manicured. She couldn't really be upset with her dominant and his controlling qualities, considering she had just been pampered.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Over-Extravagant Gestures
Date: May 14, 2018 16:48
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey,
I just boarded the plane, and we are about to take off soon.
What really alarms me is how you knew which flight I was on. Your stalking has no bounds. I hope you're talking to someone to deal with your need for control.
I have had a manicure, a back massage, and been offered champagne. Although I don't want to admit it, it was a stress reliever and tension breaker to my slight fear of flying and the exam in my mind.
Thank you, Christian.
Ana x
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
From: Christian Grey
Subject: You're Most Welcome
Date: May 14, 2018 16:52
To: Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele,
My therapist has come back from vacation actually, and I have an appointment this week.
Who was massaging your back?
CEO with friends in the right places, Grey Enterprises Holding Inc.
Jealousy, again? Anastasia wondered if she should provoke him, but settled for being descriptively honest instead.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Strong Able Hands
Date: May 14, 2018 16:54
To: Christian Grey
Mr. Grey,
Just a very pleasant young man massaged my back. I didn't know that airports employed masseurs for first-class flyers, but it was quite an experience. Thank you again for that treat.
Ana
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
The brunette recalled her masseur—a nice young man with dirty blonde hair and a unnatural tan. The thought made her think of people tanning in Seattle. Was it possible to tan here? Especially with the grim weather in Washington, anyone that had a tanned glow in this state seemed wrong and unbelievably impossible. His voice was high-pitched and quite effeminate, matching his flamboyant personality, but she didn't want to label his character. Re-reading her reply back, she frowned, knowing it might wind him up.
He just did something nice for you. Something you would have refused even when he wanted to treat you. Be nice. Her heart told her.
Logic dryly corrected, What he did was more like an invasion of privacy. How does one even get that information? Isn't the stuff he's using to track you illegal? You don't have a chip in you, yet and he can still find you.
"Miss Steele," a female flight attendant greeted, causing Anastasia to jump. "The Wi-Fi is included in the first-class package of your flight you've been upgraded to. Here is the network you can use for connection and its password." She handed a slip of paper to the brunette and added, "I'll be honest, the Wi-Fi has been buggy since the morning. So, just be patient with it."
"Thank you," the surgeon nodded quietly, taking the paper.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Enjoy it While You Can
Date: May 14, 2018 17:01
To: Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele,
I know what you're trying to do—and trust me—you've succeeded. Next time you'll be in the cargo hold, bound and gagged in a crate. Believe me when I say that attending to you in that state will give me so much more pleasure than merely upgrading your ticket.
I look forward to your return.
Christian Grey
Palm-Twitching CEO, Grey Enterprises Holding Inc.
Jesus… The thoughts of her logic and heart simultaneous feared what she read. The imagery of his scenario suddenly turned dark and upset her mood. Before replying, the young resident quickly logged into the plane's Wi-Fi and entered in its password. She typed in her response afterwards, trying to be more open with her thoughts.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: I Was Kidding
Date: May 14, 2018 17:07
To: Christian Grey
I'm unsure if you're joking with your proposal, but if you are not, then I might just stay in California. Crates are a hard limit for me.
I'm sorry if I upset you, I may have been a bit more unnecessarily descriptive than I should've been with what I said.
A
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
From: Christian Grey
Subject: I Was Kidding
Date: May 14, 2018 17:09
To: Anastasia Steele
How can you be emailing me? Are you risking the life of everyone on board, including yourself, by using your phone? I think that contravenes one of the rules.
Christian Grey
Two Palms Twitching CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
The sign for buckling into the plane came on, and Anastasia followed its orders. Listening to the pilot's introductions and protocol, she placed her phone to the side and sighed. She didn't want to talk to him without knowing what to say. The distance between them was starting to be helpful because she could clearly see how the dominant was truly affecting her without being drawn or persuaded to his charms and actions in person.
Her plane began to take off, and suddenly, she was airborne. As the altitude of the plane increased, she could feel the plane level, and her head was free of its pull from flying up. Many minutes passed before the brunette found the bravery to pick up her phone and open up to him, letting the words from her heart and mind type up how she felt.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: This is why I didn't want you to come with me
Date: May 14, 2018 17:16
To: Anastasia Steele
The plane has Wi-Fi—or first class has Wi-Fi, so you can stow one of your twitching palms because I'm not endangering anyone or myself.
First loaning me your car as a surprise, and next upgrading my plane ticket—I just don't like how you are spending your money, at least on me anyway. I understand that you're wealthy, but this situation makes me feel as though you are paying me for my "services." Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate you doing this for me and letting me experience/fly first class. Thank you for that. And you don't have to be upset at me or the man who gave me my massage because neither of us were interested in each other, in fact I think he may be interested in another type of person, but I won't get into that. However, despite all of what just happened, it only proved why I didn't want you coming with me in the first place.
Your overreactions are just one of the many things I need to take into consideration with the arrangement you are proposing. I don't feel comfortable reading the things you write as I picture myself in your scenario—"bound and gagged in a crate"?—I can't tell if you were serious or if it were a joke. It scares me, Christian. I wish I didn't have to say it, but that side of you scares me—not you as whole, though. But the thing that frightens me the most is the spell you put me under. Your particular interests, a lifestyle that I wasn't aware had existed until I met you, continues to disturb me, and a part of me wants to run for the hills, away from this mess. Of course, I wouldn't do that because another part of me would miss you. In my own masochistic way, I'd miss you utterly and terribly. And that is the twisted reality in which scares me as well.
I want to be with you. I want us to work, but I am terrified of the feelings that come with it when I'm with you—not just the dark path you're leading me down but also what you do to me. Yes, your offer is erotic and sexy. My curiosity in your offer led me to where I am currently, but I still have my doubts because I'm scared you'll hurt me—emotionally, not just physically. What happens after three months of being with you? With the NDA still intact, do we go our separate ways and pretend none of it ever existed? Do we just say good bye? Or is it not saying good bye, but instead breaking all contact and never speaking to one another ever again? I don't know what'll happen to me if you do, and I feel incredibly embarrassed for feeling this way for some reason. I am aware of the risks and consequences of pursing any kind of relationship, but this ordeal of ours was not what I ever envisioned having—especially for my first. It's simply a huge leap of faith for me.
I didn't believe you when said that I didn't have a submissive bone in my body. For some reason, I felt like I had to prove myself even though you were right all along. I agree with you now. I want to be yours, but if that's what I have to do—continuing to be that way— then I would like to try. I have been trying, but there is always that creeping and underlying fear of ending up bruised and blue. It doesn't make me happy.
I am so happy that you said that you would try more. I just need to think about what "more" means to me now, and it's one of the reasons why I need distance. And time. But also because I do have to take an exam as well, if you forgot. Your spell on me has me tied up, and I can't think straight when you and I are together.
More later,
Your Ana
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
Anastasia didn't bother rereading what she wrote. She wanted her confession to be as real and raw like the physical feelings of being with him in person. Silencing her phone and putting it in her pocket, the brunette rested her eyes, willing her thoughts to rid of her current emotions and focusing on her more prominent goal—her certification.
…
Andrew groaned loudly as he stretched beside Anastasia, "Geez, who knew that plane rides would be tiring."
For a two and a half hour plane ride, it was pretty tiring, especially since it was already eight o'clock in the evening. The group of residents crowded out of San Francisco International Airport while another shuttle bus was waiting for them outside. They threw their luggage into the trunk of the bus before hopping in. The drive to the hotel they were staying at didn't last so long, arriving shortly in around fifteen minutes as the brunette shared her first-class flying experience with Dr. Deluca. Slightly envying the young surgeon, he joked that her luck was due to her nomination.
The Four Seasons Hotel of San Francisco welcomed the examining surgeons with a banner from the American Medical Board of Surgery. There were was around a hundred people in the lobby of the floor, gathering around and registering for their arrival of their exams tomorrow afternoon. Grey-Sloan's residents were not the first group there, but the wait for registration wasn't so long as they assumed it would be.
The amount of surgeons in the room were overwhelming, and the young resident thought to herself, There are about a hundred people in this lobby right now, and if Deluca was right, that would mean twenty people would fail the test. Her leg shook in terrible thoughts as she sat waiting for Andrew. Their rooms were beside each other, so they were going to walk together to put down their luggage in their rooms before grabbing dinner.
Once Dr. Deluca registered himself and grabbed his things, he headed back to an anxiously sitting Anastasia, snapping her out of her nervous state. Her façade masked her thoughts, and she presented her poker-face with bright eyes and a smile, "Ready to go?"
"Yup," he stated. "It's official. We're here, now."
Walking to one of the elevators, the brunette pushed the call button and went inside with her luggage. "We're here," she repeated his words and breathed, sighing at the same time.
Instead of heading down to the hotel's bar or going to a restaurant to grab dinner, the two residents decided on ordering room service while they studied. They went back and forth with their surgical hypothetical scenarios, doing their best to answer them correctly as they shoved food in their mouth. In honor of Jackson but also her dead loved parents, she ordered a salmon.
With a burger in one hand and food still in his mouth, Andrew paced back and forth in the room, shouting, "You found a 7.5 centimeter triple-A on your 85-year-old patient—go!"
The young surgeon thought to herself, Okay. A 7.5 centimeter abdominal aortic aneurysm would mean—
"Come on, come on, come on—last one!" Dr. Deluca shouted with a food-shoved grin, continuing to pace back and forth in which made her dizzy. "Quickly! The examiners are gonna die at the rate of your thinking."
Quite the exaggeration, Andrew. "Okay!" Anastasia exclaimed with a grin. This was a good way to de-stress her thoughts, bringing her back to the roots of who she was. Taking a deep breath and speaking a nanosecond after, the brunette was in her element, "Get an angiogram. Assess his pulmonary and cardiac function. And see if he is a candidate for endovascular repair."
Easy, her logic enigmatically smiled at her.
"Nope."
She made a face, "What? What do you mean 'nope?'"
Andrew reached over for his soda and took a sip. Unfazed by her disbelief, he answered immediately, "Because the patient's dead. You killed him—he's dead."
"Uh, uh!" The brunette protested. "I didn't kill him. I did a stent graft and now he's living without the threat of a rupture, which is not dead!"
He mused at her reaction and shook his head, "Hmmm… I think you should buy the old guy flowers because he's dead."
The surgeon rolled her eyes and objected to his answer, "He is not dead. I saved from him the complications of an open procedure with a minimally invasive technique!" She doubted herself for a second, getting angry for doing so before determining quietly, "Yeah! He's not dead."
"We're done," Andrew smiled mischievously.
"What?! Because I killed him?" Anastasia's jaw dropped. She shook her head again, adamant in her thoughts, "I think the hell not! Check again. Your notes are wrong because I didn't kill him."
"I know you didn't kill him!" Dr. Deluca laughed in surrender. "And so do you, even when I tried to psych you out it, which means you are ready for the boards."
The brunette opened her mouth and then closed it. Oh. She giggled happily, falling back against the bed, "You're good. Who taught you to study like that?"
He shrugged, "I had a little help from my girlfriend—Meredith."
"Meredith?" She froze and sat back up immediately. "Meredith as in the Meredith Grey? Grey as in owner of the hospital? Grey as in head of general? Grey as in Ellis Grey's daughter?" Her voice increased with every title as her mouth opened more widely, and she couldn't prevent herself from closing it. How did a goofy guy like Andrew Deluca land the daughter of The Grey Method, who was also a Catherine Fox award winner for her abdominal wall transplant? The Greys were a living medical dynasty—well, Meredith Grey and her family anyway. The Trevelyan-Greys, on the other hand, were an interesting group of people—warm and kind, nevertheless.
"The one and only," Andrew answered with a chuckle.
She pressed her back against the bed frame, dazed by the information he shared. He continued explaining, "Well, anyway—Meredith was the one that helped me out with studying for the boards. She had an orthopedic surgeon friend that helped her out on her boards—Callie Torres. So, Meredith's studying habits really came from 'The Callie Torres Study Method.' She's like legendary for her study skills because she had perfect scores on every test she took."
So many methods… "Well, it's working for them now," Anastasia muttered.
"Yeah, it is," he smiled. Dr. Deluca began picking up his empty food and threw them on the tray, putting it outside. "Well, I'm gonna call it a night, Ana. Gotta get a good night's sleep if I want to ace these boards, right?"
"Yeah, I should do the same," the young surgeon murmured, sending him out before waving good night.
Anastasia prepared herself for bed, knowing that she would have to get up in the morning at ten for her first session. With a showered body and brushed teeth, the brunette remembered her phone and found a waiting email from none other than the domineering Christian Grey.
What a way to end the night.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Finally!
Date: May 14, 2018 18:27
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia,
I am annoyed that as soon as you put some distance between us, you communicate openly and honestly with me. But since you've mentioned that you cannot think straightly around me, I suppose I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I still cannot fathom how that is possible and only wish that you would be more vocal when we are together.
Starting off—yes, I'm rich. Get used to it. Why shouldn't I spend money on you? My family knows you as my girlfriend, for heaven's sake. Isn't that what boyfriends do? But as your Dom, I would expect you to accept whatever I spend on you with no argument.
I don't know how to answer your comment about feeling like a whore because you are nothing of the sort. I know that's not what you've written, but it's what you imply. I don't know what I can say or do to eradicate these feelings. All I know is that I'd like and want you to have the best of everything—the best of all that I can give. I work exceptionally hard, so I can spend my money as I see fit. I could buy you your heart's desire, Anastasia, and I want to. I really do. Call it redistribution of wealth if you will. Or simply know that I would not, and could not ever think of you in the way you described—I've said this to you countless times. I'm angry at the way you perceive yourself. For a young woman so bright, witty, and beautiful, you have some real self-esteem issues. I have half a mind to make an appointment for you with Dr. Flynn—my therapist.
I apologize for frightening you. I find the thought of instilling fear in you abhorrent. Do you really think I'd let you travel in the hold? I offered you my private jet, for heaven's sake. Yes, it was a joke—a poor one obviously. However, the fact is—the thought of you bound and gagged turns me on (this isn't a joke—it's true, and you know it, too). I can lose the crate—crates do nothing for me. I know you have issues with gagging; we've spoken about that and if/when I gag you, we will discuss it together.
What I think you fail to realize is that in Dom/sub relationships it is the sub that has all the power. That's you. I'll repeat this to really implement it in your mind—you are the one with all the power. Not I. In the boathouse, you said "no." I can't touch you if you say "no"—that's why we have an agreement of what you will and won't do. If we try things and you don't like them, we can revise the agreement. It's up to you—not me. And if you don't want to be bound and gagged in a crate, then it won't happen.
I want to share my lifestyle with you. I never wanted anything so much until you found me broken and unconscious in my car. Frankly, I am in awe of you, that one so innocent would be willing to try for me. That says more to me than you could ever know. You fail to see that I am caught in your spell, too, even though I've mentioned this to you before. I'm feeling and experiencing new things with you as well. It's a first for me, too. I don't want to lose you. I am nervous that you've flown hundreds of miles to get away from me for a few days because you can't think clearly around me. It's the same for me, Anastasia. My reasoning and how I usually behave or act vanishes when we are together—that's the depth of my feelings for you.
I understand your trepidation. I did my best to stay away from you; I resisted wanting to find you after our first encounter. You don't know this, but it was incredibly difficult having myself refrained from seeing you to personally do the CT scans for me. I wanted to see you, to want you so badly. I had a feeling that you were inexperienced, though I would never have pursued you if I had known exactly how innocent you were— and yet, you still manage to disarm and beguile me completely in a way that nobody has before.
Your email for example: I have read and re-read it multiple times, trying to understand your perspective. See it in your point of view. Three months is an arbitrary amount of time. We could make it six months? A year? How long do you want it to be? What would make you comfortable?
Tell me. Please.
I understand that this is a huge leap of faith for you. I have to earn your trust, but by the same token, you have to communicate with me when I am failing to do this. You seem so strong and self-contained. The night of our first punishment was misdirected with further miscommunication, and you hid so well from me to please me. I don't want to be like that if it costs your trust and your faith in me. You usually are good with being vocal with your feelings when you need to be, and it was starting to work that way. But then I read what you've written here, and I see another side to you. We have to guide each other, Anastasia, and I can only take my cues from you. You have to be honest with me, too—really be honest and open with me; only then can we both find a way to make this arrangement work.
You worry about not fitting the role as a submissive. Well, maybe that is true. Having said that, the only time you do assume the correct demeanor for a sub is in the playroom. It seems that's the one place where you let me exercise proper control over you, and the only place you do as you are told. Exemplary is the term that comes to mind. And another thing, I'd never beat you black and blue. Ever. I aim for pink.
Outside the playroom, I like that you challenge me. It's a very novel and refreshing experience, and I wouldn't want to change that. So yes, tell me what you want in terms of more. I will endeavor to keep an open mind, and I shall try and give you the space you need. I'll stay away from you while you are in California and look forward to your next email.
In the meantime, good luck on your exam and enjoy yourself. But not too much.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Fuck, the young surgeon in bed thought. She was lying calmly in bed as she was reading but sat upright immediately within the first few sentences into his email. Even though she had an eidetic memory, she wanted to reread his incredibly unexpected and heart-warming monologue of a letter. It was the first time he was honest with how he felt other than the physicalities that lured him to her. His openness to making their agreement longer showed that he felt the same way—he didn't want to lose her just as she didn't want to lose him.
I don't want to lose you, his voice echoed in her thoughts. The brunette hugged herself, clinging herself warmly in sheets she was under, gleefully smiling from his confession. For the first time, her logic was beginning to crack its stubborn shell, seeing that Christian and her could work. Of all the times that the surgeon wanted space away from him, now was the time where she wished he was with her—to fling her body onto him and express how she felt, the way she was taught. Her logic told her not to go crazy, but her heart was overloaded with affection by his words. They unlocked her heart open for him because it was a definitive moment—a revelation that there was a chance.
Four days away from him was now too long for her. The realization of missing him occurred and another thing—how much she loved him.
Her logic screamed in disbelief, WHAT?! It felt too soon to feel that way.
I love him… Her heart began fluttering and beating rapidly. Another part of her reassured that in the three weeks they've known each other and spent time together, it was okay. Her hands and fingers shook as she held her phone. She didn't know what to type. What would she say?
Anastasia chewed her lip and stared at her phone blankly, deep in her thoughts. She sighed, typing all that she could.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: At A Loss for Words
Date: May 14, 2018 20:26
To: Christian Grey
Mr. Grey,
I just finished studying with a fellow resident. Knowing you and assuming your reaction, I am rolling my eyes because I want you to know that he is taken and in a happy relationship with another woman, so there would be no need for twitching palms. I was in bed when I began to read your email. I don't know what to say, but what I do know is that I loved everything you said.
I'll do my best to respond when I can, any chance I get. Thank you for those kind words. I loved it all.
I miss you already, and I hope you enjoyed your afternoon and evening.
Your Ana
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
The brunette closed her phone and was about to sleep but was awaken by the bright screen of a notification. An immediate responding email from the man she just wrote to.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your behind
Date: May 14, 2018 20:28
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele,
I am distracted by the subject title of this email itself. Needless to say it is safe—for now.
I take it that you landed safely; I was wondering if you had. I hope settling into your hotel was as easy as your flight.
My afternoon and evening were dull, but only until brightened by thoughts of you and your eye rolling. I think it was you who so judiciously pointed out to me that I, too, suffer from that nasty habit.
Christian Grey
CEO & Eye Roller, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Eye Rolling
Date: May 14, 2018 20:29
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey,
Who spanks you when you roll your eyes? And stop emailing me. I'm trying to get a good night's rest, and I find it very distracting to sleep, even when you are on the other side of the continent.
Your Ana
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
Her thoughts dwelled in the dark place and imagery of the wicked witch—Mrs. Robinson—doing the erotic punishments. Anastasia placed her phone down and closed her eyes but was secretly waiting for his response. When her phone glared again, she immediately opened her email to read and respond to his message.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your behind
Date: May 14, 2018 20:34
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele,
I still prefer my title to yours, in so many different ways. It is lucky that I am master of my own destiny and no one castigates me. Except my mother occasionally and Dr. Flynn, of course.
I wish I was in bed with you. Get some sleep, Anastasia. There is a big day ahead of you tomorrow.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Sweet Dreams
Date: May 14, 2018 20:36
To: Christian Grey
You and me both, sir. Good night, Christian. Thank you again for today.
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
How could the young surgeon sleep now? How could Christian make her feel this way? The distance and time between them was clarifying—crystal clear. It was their space that revealed that even then, she deeply cared for him. Although being in person with him was distracting, alone without him was miserable. With an open mind, clear of the dominant's presence, he was what she desired—all that she selfishly, irrevocably, irrationally, and whole-heartedly desired.
…
Imagine spending the past five years of residency training to become a surgeon. Although Anastasia finished in half the amount of time, all those years suddenly do not matter. The hard work, the studying, the days and nights of stress, sweat, and tears—it doesn't matter. The only that that did matter, the only thing between her and the rest of her entire career was a test—in a random hotel, in a random city, and with a random examiner asking her random questions.
Kindergarten, high school, university, med school, residency—it all led to one single moment. Some people could crack under the pressure—others bloomed and thrived. Either way, there was nothing left to do. No more studying, no more preparing, and no more breaks and pauses. Whether the young resident liked it or not, her moment had arrived, and the only thing left to do was show up. This was the moment that would change her life forever—from a young naïve resident to the surgical attending she worked hard to be.
Anastasia's heart could be heard beating out of her chest. She closed her eyes as she waited for her name to be called. She couldn't even remember how she got where she was, ending up on a chair outside of another hotel room to take her boards. What did she eat? How did she get dressed? It was as if her body just doing the work for her, and her mind suddenly was awake for the day.
Waiting for her exam, the brunette read Christian's email from two hours ago.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Good morning
Date: May 15, 2018 7:45
To: Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele,
I wish you good luck before your test, and hope that your day is better than mine.
I am just readying for another day in the office.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Good morning
Date: May 15, 2018 9:59
To: Christian Grey
Christian,
I hope your day goes well.
I'm nervous. I don't know if I could do this.
Ana
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
The door to the room opened right on time, and her named was called, "Anastasia Steele."
The brunette gasped quietly with nerve-wrecking fear, That's me. She blinked, turning to the head to a woman with an intimidating clipboard. The scenario was as if it were her turn to go in the scary doctor's office, all irony intended. She stood up and faced the woman with an open hand, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."
The woman's warm smile relaxed her, taking her head and shaking it, "We're pleased to have you. Come on in, Anastasia."
The two women stepped into the room, and the young doctor saw a well-dressed old man sitting patiently in the middle of the room with another seat for her.
"Dr. Anastasia Steele, please have a seat." his voice greeted politely and sweetly. He looked like an endearingly kind grandpa, but she didn't want to let his appearance faze her. He introduced himself, "My name is Dr. Craig Thomas, attending cardiothoracic surgeon at the Mayo Clinic, and I will be your examiner for your oral boards this morning."
The young doctor took a seat in front of her examiner, gazing shyly and chewing her lip. Show restraint. You belong here, Steele. She sat up straight and took a deep breath.
"Welcome to the American Medical Board of Surgery certifying examination," Dr. Thomas spoke gently. "We'll give you four separate scenarios in three thirty minute sessions with a ten minute break in between. Your first two sessions will be today, and your last session will be held again at the same time tomorrow morning. To past the test, you must pass two of the three sessions—now you can fail a session and still pass, but examiners are not permitted to indicate whether you passed or failed each session. You'll be rated on your ability to diagnose, manage treatment, handle the unexpected—basically the strength of your constitution in crisis."
Two today. One tomorrow. Ten minute breaks in between to cry quickly. Okay.
He added, "And when we move on to the next scenario, there's no doubling back. Meaning—once a question is asked and you answer it, you cannot go back."
The young doctor nodded at the examiner, remaining eye-contact with him. She admired his wrinkles, admiring and thinking about him continuing to save lives even at his age.
"Are you ready, Dr. Steele?" Dr. Thomas asked, adjusting his glasses as he crossed his legs.
She nodded once, causing him to smile reassuringly with glimmering eyes of care, "Are you okay?"
"I'm just nervous," Anastasia admitted, releasing her chewing lip.
He smiled more widely and nodded, "It's okay to be nervous—whenever you're ready."
The entire memory of this moment reminded her of the first interview and meeting with Chief Bailey, when she doubted the young resident of her knowledge by questioning her with her own surgical questions. She reassured herself that she was capable of doing the exam, thinking of her time with her boss. She did, after all, ace the chief's test.
You got this, Steele, her thoughts encouraged her.
Jackson's voice replaced her own in her mind, repeating her reassuring words, You got this.
"I'm ready."
"Okay. Let's start the time and begin," Dr. Thomas began. As the female test-taker waited patiently for her examiner, she noticed and analyzed how agonizingly slow the speed of his voice was, but she believed that it was due to his old age.
He flipped over a piece of paper from his clipboard and said, "A sixty-five-year-old woman is being seen by her primary care physician for workup of osteoporosis. When she is found to have elevated calcium, her PTH level was well above normal." He gestured with his hand, pointing it towards her and continuing his hypothetical scenario, "Her doctor sends her to you."
And so it begins, Christian's voice seductively whispered.
Time slowed down, and the young doctor closed her eyes. She quieted her chaotic thoughts in her mind, shutting down everything but her medical knowledge.
A spark lit inside her, and a fiery awakening was shown in her golden eyes as Anastasia opened them. She spoke calmly, "Elevated calcium and high levels of parathyroid hormones indicate primary hyperparathyroidism. I would offer the patient a parathyroidectomy." His mature, blue eyes crinkled in response to her answer, a small smile invoked from what she said. She continued, "I'd make a Kocher incision—"
"Which is?" He interjected, beginning to write on his clipboard.
"A low cervical incision about two to four centimeters long, located approximately two fingerbreadths above the suprasternal notch, sir," she answered as her thoughts smirked proudly. His lip turned as he nodded, writing what she said. She continued, "To get to the superior parathyroid gland, I would access it through the posterior and lateral aspect of the thyroid gland by ligating the middle thyroid veins and rotating the gland. I would first explore the right side. If that gland is large, I would biopsy it. Other than that, I would resect it and explore the other glands."
His concern was shown through his face, but the young surgeon interrupted his train of thought by correcting her answer, "If the IPM showed PTH levels in the normal range, I would feel comfortable closing and concluding the procedure."
"Moving on, then," Dr. Thomas said, pleased with a hidden smile. "A forty-year old man complains of rectal pain and burning defecation and occasionally some blood in the bowel movement. He goes to you."
Eww. Gross. Poor guy. Beginning her next scenario, Anastasia began finding her confidence, battling through her nerves, "I would do a rigid sigmoidoscopy to make sure there were no lesions in the rectum. If there were lesions in the rectum, I would do an incisional biopsy and begin to flurgurate…"
It wasn't as bad as the young surgeon thought. She was answering to the best of her ability, which was enough for her examiner because he had no objections, merely questioning her methods and picking at her brain to get the insights of her vast knowledge and surgical skills.
During her ten minute break, she used the restroom quickly while checking her email.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: You can do it!
Date: May 15, 2018 10:04
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia,
I don't know anyone else your age more capable of doing what you can do other than you.
Take a deep breath and relax, Ana. I believe in you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Anastasia smiled to the email, tucking her phone back into her pocket. She exited the stall, washed her hands, and headed back into the room, beginning her final session for the day.
It was going well so far, but she had a moment of overconfidence. Anastasia was a polar opposite of Dr. Thomas—she was well-informed with the advanced, cutting-edge technology and techniques, but he preferred the orthodox procedures he learned back then—his old-fashioned approach to medicine.
"I'd locate the fistula endoscopically, and then inject fibrin glue," she declared.
"What about an abscess?" Dr. Thomas knitted his brows and leaned in with curiosity.
The brunette blinked, "What about it?"
"It seems cavalier to rule it out. Wouldn't you say so?"
There wouldn't be one, her logic thought smugly. As politely as she could, she countered, "Well, I'm just having difficulty understanding why I would open them up when I could treat the fistula endoscopically."
"Precisely my question, Dr. Steele," the old man smartly retorted back.
Jackson's voice spoke gently in her head, They want standard protocol, not cutting-edge…This is a test in proficiency…proficiency…
Standard protocol and proficiency, her thoughts echoed.
Anastasia cleared her throat and resumed, "An alternative approach I could do…would be opening them up and doing a tube duodenostomy." Seems more invasive though…
"Let's move on then," the old examiner nodded, satisfied with her answer.
Phew…
The brunette finished her final scenario of a hernia diagnosis strong, "I would be concerned about Crohn's disease, but differential diagnosis could be peptic ulcer disease, ulcerative colitis, or appendicitis. That being said, I'd repair it with an abdominal approach—reduce the size of the hernia contents, excise the sac, close the hiatus, and perform a floppy Nissen fundoplication for laparoscopic anti-reflux and gastropexy surgeries."
Dr. Thomas neatly placed his documented notes and papers neatly onto his clipboard, "I think that will conclude our first two sessions, Dr. Steele." He ended the session abruptly and brought out his hand. She took it into hers and shook it gently.
"Thank you, Dr. Thomas," Anastasia politely thanked him.
The old man nodded, gingerly and slowly getting up from his seat, "Until tomorrow—our last session."
Exiting the hotel room, the young resident rushed towards the elevator, checking her phone for another email from her favorite gray-eyed man.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Dinner with a friend
Date: May 15, 2018 11:13
To: Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele,
Not hearing back from you, I assume that you are still preoccupied with your exam. Let me know when you are finished so I know how you are keeping up.
I may be unresponsive this evening because I will be catching up with a friend. I am headed to go them now as I type this to you.
Until then—Laters, baby.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
A friend? What friend? Her eyebrows lifted in surprise from the statement, remembering that he had told her he didn't have any friends. Unless… Her thoughts suddenly directed to Mrs. Robinson. An angry fire flamed in her, That disgusting wench. Trying to relax and not be hypocritical, she cleared her mind of the woman she loathed, diminishing her assumptions first before typing.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Suitable Dinner Companions
Date: May 15, 2018 11:50
To: Anastasia Steele
A friend? And you told me you never had any friends, or any time for them.
I just got out. I have one more session tomorrow at 10 a.m., but then I will be free of this stressful event in my life. That's only if I pass, though.
Ana
P.S. Are you seeing Mrs. Robinson?
Dr. Anastasia R. Steele
Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital
The young doctor closed her phone and placed it back into her pocket, optimistically hoping that he wouldn't see her. She would never stop him, but it didn't mean she would stop hating her. As the elevator doors opened, she left the double doors and entered towards the lobby—meeting Deluca there as they planned.
Andrew was sitting on a chair, leaning against the armrest on his elbow. His eyes were filled with exhaustion, clearly showing that he had been through and suffering the same situation as Anastasia.
"Let's go get food and forget this day," he sighed and stood up.
Anastasia nodded to his suggestion. "It wasn't so bad," she said with a comforting tone. "The first session was so easy!"
"I want to punch you in the face right now, Ana."
The brunette opened her mouth and laughed, "Lunch is on me—that'll cheer you up."
Dr. Deluca shook his head but was unable to suppress his grin, exiting the hotel together with the young doctor. She was excited to show him her favorite places to eat. Although the dirty air of San Francisco streets reeked of marijuana and urine, who wouldn't destress their day with some good, comfort food? Day one of their oral boards was done—one more to go.
Any time I get to express Anastasia's surgical database, I get giddy. This is one of my favorite chapters because of Christian's awakening love for her and the testament of her proving her skills. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I wrote it.~
