Rialto Beach, Washington
"Bikinis, Falcon, are women's greatest tool." I announced. We had pitched a mini-house itself on the beach, with a huge shelter. We had a huge table on which water, other drinks and fruits were kept. My two security men stood behind me in normal clothes. They each had chairs but they sat with their backs erect, alert. "They give you this… self-confidence, a boost to your ego, a sense of narcissism. One feels as if everyone is looking at her, and everyone would love to come and talk to her. Especially creatures of the male variety."
"I assure you, Ms Steele, you are absolutely right." Said Falcon wryly, looking at the number of men eyeing her.
"Of course I am. I always am right. You should know that by now." I said, smiling. "Now tell me, which of these fine men should I ask to help me put on my sunscreen lotion?" I was having a blast, taking time off for myself. I had forgotten what it felt like, indulging myself.
"None." He replied bluntly. "This is too open a place. I'm surprised that the paparazzi aren't here yet."
I gave noncommittal grunt. I was partly relieved, though. A few weeks after my one-night stand, I had been a mess. I couldn't believe that I had directly jumped into sex without actually knowing the person. I had fallen into a bout of remorse and moroseness which I hadn't been able to come out of, by my own. After the divorce, though, I felt I was betraying him by 'coming out' in the open again. Sure, there was a belligerent albeit practical part of my mind that said that there was no one to betray; and if anyone had done the betrayal, it was him. Yet, the nagging feeling of guilt persisted. Every time I thought of that night, the making out, the love-making and anything related to it, the guilt appeared in my mind. I was getting slightly annoyed with myself.
Living in my head was becoming difficult.
Change of topic, I thought. Dominic Edley seemed like the guy who understood exactly who he was speaking to and how to behave. I had immediately pegged him to be the cocky, over-confident type. He seemed like a complete player, who couldn't control himself. I was immediately wary. I had just fucked a man exactly like Christian – no commitments, more women. I didn't think the former was of the monogamous variety, though. Then again, Christian had not turned out to be monogamous, had he?
I leaned to the side and picked up a glass of cranberry juice and sipped it gratefully. The sweltering heat was certainly not facilitating my good mood.
At that moment, my phone rang. Falcon picked it up and frowned at the unknown number. "Anastasia Steele's phone." He said brusquely. "The clu-? Oh, yes, of course." He handed the phone to me, mouthing, 'Dominic'. I raised my brows and bit my lips, a sign of conflict in my brain.
"Edley," I said noncommittally. No, don't. Don't you dare come back, Guilt.
"Ana! I was afraid that guy would shove me away like hundreds of your other suitors." He joked.
"What do you want, Edley?" I said. I'm pushing you away now, and you will NOT come back, Guilt.
"Yeah, listen, I need a date for this charity function I was invited to. I am sure you were too. Would you like to come as my date?" He asked, appearing to not care about this at all.
"Which one is it?" I asked, my nose scrunched up with confusion. Do NOT glare at me that way. Don't sink your teeth into me, now.
"The Grey's." He said, a little mockingly as if daring her to accept. I paused for a few seconds.
"When is it?" I asked coldly. He chuckled. Go away, please. (Great strength of will applied) Yes! You are gone, you demon! Until next time!
"The sixteenth, this month." He said. I considered his words. I was free on the sixteenth.
"Okay, I'll see you, then. I will arrive directly at the venue." I said as turned the phone to cut the call, but I heard his voice continue.
"Wait! Can we plan something for... after? Dinner and... dessert, perhaps?" He asked in a seductive tone.
"We'll see." I said detachedly. I tossed the phone on my blanket with rage and disgust at myself. I stood up, brushing off the sand from her body. I ran my hand through my hair. "God!" I said, gritting my teeth. I kicked the stone in front of me with vengeance. I wanted to do it again, but I didn't want to. It didn't register to me until now that I was going to an event where Christian was going to be there. I wondered whether this was a punishment to me or to him.
Meanwhile…
Shellie Hale stood up, trembling slightly. Regret washed through her like a tidal wave. She didn't meet the older woman's eye, lest she found out about the hesitancy that was surely inundating her eyes. She nodded jerkily at her and walked towards the door. A knock at the door startled her.
"Come in!"Said the woman. A boy no more than twenty entered the room. He glanced at Shellie and then at the woman.
"You called for me, Mistress?" He inquired. The woman gave a strained smile as a feeling of horror mingled with disgust grew within Shellie.
"Yes, Peter. Shellie, close the door behind you, honey."
Shellie quickened her pace and closing the door behind her, hurried outside. She was gasping for breath by the time she was outside the gates. The scene that was just played- ugh, her choice of words had to be commended. The… incident that just took place brought about revulsion within her. She couldn't believe that a person could be so twisted.
Anyway, she brought her head back to her assigned job. She picked up her phone as she walked on the pavement and searched for the name of a journalist. She called him up and held the phone near her ear.
"Hi, this is Shellie. Shellie Hale. I believe I will be able to tell you the reason why the Greys divorced, three years ago… Yes… yes." She breathed deeply. Then, summoning all the theatre training she had received, she put a winning smile on her face. I'm sorry, Mr Grey. "Yeah, I thought you might be interested…"
Two Hours Later
Christian Grey had sworn to himself that he wouldn't touch any woman or form of spirit unless a certain woman re-entered his life or gave her express permission that he could do so. If it meant abstinence, from everything, then he would do it. It was a form of penance. But he had already broken the alcohol rule. And he had ended up doing mad things. As he collapsed on the sofa in front of the television, he felt the irresistible urge towards that top drawer in the kitchen again, which had been his solace a couple of weeks ago.
He was undergoing a personal 'shitgasm', a climax of shittiness. He was trying to make sense of what he had done, of what had ended his marriage. Inevitably, the answer lay in the drug that Shellie had given him. She was the one who was with him every single night that he had driven Ana to the brink of her sanity. He had observed that very closely, verifying it with the videos in his office. Shellie Hale was the answer to his questions. Why the fuck had that deranged woman done that to him? There you go, putting the blame on someone else again, his conscience told him. It was your fault for cheating on Ana in the first place. If you hadn't been such a cheating dick, then all of this would never have happened.
Realising that he was going deep into 'regret mode', he jerked back from his reverie and switched on his television and tuned it to the news channel. His heart jumped to his throat; his heart rate increased and his eyes widened.
A reporter sat behind a desk and photographs of him and Ana at various dinners, charity functions and award ceremonies appeared on the screen. Then, a more recent one at the award ceremony.
"…Hale, who works for the prestigious PR company, admits that the affair went on for nearly three years, during which, she said, Christian Grey was nothing like the man he was portrayed to be. An email accidentally left open at Grey's computer at his residence was read by the now Ms Steele which ultimately led to the sad split…"
"Fuck!" Christian swore agitatedly. "Fuck you, Hale!"
"You already did." Taylor said quietly. Christian, who hadn't noticed his presence, jumped.
"Taylor," he growled. "Not the time for wisecracks. Give me a phone." He demanded. Taylor fished his pocket and handed it over to Christian silently. Christian feverishly dialled Ana's number. Pick it up, please.
"Anastasia Steele's phone." That dratted man had answered the phone.
"Christian Grey. Put her on phone immediately!" He said hurriedly.
"Ms Steele… um… is having a shower. Can I take a message?" He said, discomfited.
"Well, it's an emergency! I don't care where she is! Hand over the phone to her!" He yelled, slightly hysterical.
"Sir, Ms Steele trusts me with her life. Surely she would with an emergency? Besides, I will be in the thick of it, sooner or later." Said Falcon, slightly annoyed. Taylor grabbed the phone from Christian.
"This is Jason Taylor, Head of Security speaking. Mr Falcon, the reason behind the Greys' divorce has been publicised by the other… uh… woman, Shellie Hale. Mr Grey just wanted to provide a word of caution." He said.
"Thank you. I shall pass on the news to Ms Steele and do the necessary." Falcon said and ended the call. Taylor returned the phone to his pocket. Christian sank back on the sofa, muttering – "What do I do, what do I do?"
He sprang up and walked to the glass wall of his. A row of reporters stood in front of the gates. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Alert the PR team. Inform my parents and the rest of my family. Increase security at all offices. No reporter should enter any building of mine. Damage control, Taylor." Taylor nodded and turned to leave.
"Oh, and about the charity fun- never mind. You go on."
Half an Hour Later…
I strapped on my cream coloured wedges and adjusted the straps. I stood up, opened the door and stepped out, beaming. Falcon stood there, looking sombre. I recognised the expression.
"What happened? Is it Ted?"
"Shellie Hale…" I stiffened. "…has gone public. She has revealed the details of the affair to the media. Every website, every TV channel has been running the same news for the past hour."
"Hour?!" I screeched. "It has been going on for an hour and no one thought to tell me?!" I turned away from him and climbed down the stairs hurriedly. Falcon followed me, muttering apologies. I stopped in front of the television and switched it on. As I saw my history being rehashed and every dirty secret that Shellie Hale was pouring out of her vile mouth, my hand went up to my mouth. "Oh, sweet Jesus." I whispered, collapsing on the chair.
Suddenly, my gears, which had stopped working for a few seconds, restarted with renewed vigour. Falcon watched as the expression on my face changed.
"Double security in all my offices. I don't want any sneaky bastard sniffing around there. Mike," I looked at the third personal guard of hers. "Attend to the calls. Your job is to keep 'no comment'-ing. Put Blake on line. Alert the PR team, just in case. And Falcon, restrain the press as much as you can."
I was handed a phone with Blake on the other end. "Blake, pick Ted up after school, clear his schedule. Remind the school of the confidentiality contract that we signed. Don't tell him a thing. If he asks questions, tell him that I'll come home later and explain everything. That goes for you too Mike, and Joanna too. And remember to cut his access to the media." I ordered and cut the call. In an undertone, I muttered, "I hate hiding this from him."
I then pulled out my own phone as Falcon and Brandon snapped into action. I called Dominic Edley up. He answered on the second ring. "Ana. Hey."
"I am leaving now. We will reach together at five thirty sharp and make our entry together." I said, point blank.
"Alright." He answered. The clever man realised when not to speak.
"Okay. I will see you there." I said and cut the call. Falcon then spoke up, quietly.
"Is this an inappropriate time to tell you that it was Mr Grey who warned us about this in the first place?"
I gave him a look that would've left any other man pissing in his pants for a week.