Chapter 11 - Christian

Five days. Five long and grueling days of torture he spent with his phone permanently attached to him. Day and night he found himself picking it up mindlessly in hope that she would call, text, or email. Every time the familiar ping or vibration drew his attention back to the small rectangular device his heart would skip in hope that it was her, but it never was. Why hadn't she contacted him yet?

He took a leap of faith that day in her quaint, but cramped kitchen as his body was set on fire. The turn of events that had led him from an innocent attempt to make amends to a full blown make out session on her behalf still rattled fresh inside his brain. Her urgent lips tasted divine. Her hands searched him like an undiscovered map. He wanted that again, badly. It was all he could think about, and yet, he tried so hard to keep it locked away. The more he replayed the scene and depicted every detail like a sports analysis, the more he disconnected from the world around him. That was something he simply could not do, but she had left her mark. She was imprinted in his mind, on his body, and in his heart. How could one woman, one beyond frustrating woman do this to him?

Focus, Grey, he tried to shake the thought of her as quick as it came flooding back. It was nearly impossible to have any sort of concentration when she lingered around like she did.

The message he had left her had been abrupt and bold, just like the way she had kissed him. He had not expected that. He had been sure that day he would have walked away from her place empty handed. However, he was granted the confirmation he had sought for from the moment he laid eyes on her. The feeling was mutual. It ripped at the seams to be explored, but her reservations and morality always seemed to win. It angered him that every time she let down her guard and embraced him, she was quick to shield herself at a moments notice. But could he blame her? He had wronged her from the moment their lives collided, literally. How could he possibly be mad when she had every right to turn him away?

The Ana file in his brain had officially begun to overflow. He had no other option but to turn his back and leave as soon as he did that day. Her mixed signals had become too much. While she had confirmed for him what he wanted to know, he could not longer be the pursuer. If this was ever going to be something more than a one sided game, he had to put the ball in her court with that message.Thanks for the confirmation. When you're ready, I'll be waiting. And so, he did.

Running his hand down his face and stroking his chin, he sighed heavily. Five days. The waiting game had begun to take its toll. Maybe his expectations had been too high. Surely, she would have popped back into his life by now. Instead, he remained with an empty void of hope that was slowly diminished before him.

A soft knock on the door drew him from his plummet of internal sorrow. He raised his eyes from his lap to the man who slipped into his office with a strained look of concern written across his face.

"So, all the whispers are true. You are in the building today." Mr. Lincoln noted. His crisp, clean suit moved almost as elegantly as he did.

His arrival through the revolving doors of Lincoln Corporations had caused quite a stir of curiosity. It had been publicized that upon his accident and recovery process he was not due back until he felt apt to fit and uphold his role with the company, or something along those lines. But for fuck sakes, if he had to endure another day in his apartment with the constant flow of wedding vendors that Elena had to meet with, he would lose it. His level of concentration there was shit, but so far since he stepped back into his office it seemed to be about the same. Different distraction, though.

The wedding. The big day. Unlike Elena, the stress that had stemmed from all of the planning did not weigh heavy on him as it did for her. From the moment he proposed, she had been in full swing with all the arrangements. She took full responsibility and control regarding their marital nuptials, and he was perfectly fine with that. His focus needed to be on the company that he would soon have under his feet. The power and control was within reach, but he could not do so

amongst the chaos that surrounded him. His hopes of being in the right setting would help accelerate the right state of mind.

Christian sat up straight in his chair and lifted his chin high. The muscles that wove through his back ached in his sudden change in posture. He rolled his shoulders subtly to ease the wave of pain that slowly traveled down his back. He refused to let the repercussions of his mistake be smeared out in the open for everyone to see, especially his boss even if he understood his circumstances. The concern for his well-being was old news. He was fully aware of what happened and how he felt. There was no need for the choir to preach it to him. His self-deprecation already thrived at all hours of the day and ate away at the last bit of virtue that he had left. But, this was no time to head down that dark and twisted path. Instead, he flickered on the part of his brain that illuminated brightly with confidence and strategic, critical thinking that had placed him comfortably in the world that defined him.

"You couldn't stay away, could you?" He alluded to his substantial presence before him.

"Would you?" Christian fired back.

Mr. Lincoln smirked and pushed his hands into the pockets his pants.

"No," he replied. "But, I've never had a reason to stay away."

William Lincoln was a man of business 24/7. Nothing stopped him from showing up, taking charge, or degrading the smaller businessmen of the world on a daily basis. Not even the birth of his child. He recalled Elena airing her father's dirty laundry one night over many glasses of wine in bed. She shared with him as her mother went into labor, her father conducted a business transaction just outside the room. It wasn't until an hour later after she had arrived into the world that he finally held her, and even then it was only for a minute as he had been summoned back to his duties. This insight into his life left a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt a twinge of sympathy toward Elena, but as the old saying goes, the apple does not fall far from the tree.

After the passing of her mother at a young age, Elena was engulfed into the world her father created and built. She was raised on deadlines, not taking no for an answer, and a great deal of wealth. Her definition of a normal childhood was spent in the skyscraper her father owned and her education was swayed on her exposure to the business world from the age of nine. It molded her into the cold, driven woman that she carried proudly on her sleeve.

Maybe that was what had drawn him to her despite her subtle game of seduction back in the day? She owned her role with the highest confidence of any woman he had ever met. She did not dismiss who she was, even despite the countless derogatory names she had been called. To come across a woman who accepted that awakened him. Women his age simply could not compare. He wanted someone who had experience and alike minded approach to business and life. He needed someone who he could intelligently strike a deal with, but also take to bed every night and let out his stress in the most erotic ways. Elena had been that woman, but somewhere along the path something changed. What he once thought he sought for in life in his career and in a partner suddenly had shifted. It shook him to his core. No longer did he feel steady on his path. Now, he questioned it and felt the need for a diversion, but how could he do that without losing everything he worked so hard for in the process?

Christian inhaled deeply at the thought. How could he identify himself anymore when he was lost within?

"Elena told me that you've been working from home. You know you are technically on a leave of absence, right?" Mr. Lincoln reminded him of his option. Most people would gladly accept time off. Not him.

"With all do respect, sir, I never wanted the leave of absence in the first place. It was you and the board who wanted that, not me. I'm alive and I'm perfectly capable of attending to business, so here I am." He responded in a clipped tone.

With the slight nod of his head, Lincoln walked over to the window that overlooked the north side of the city. It was an endless see of buildings, people, and traffic. He watched as his boss's shoulders fell and rose before he spoke again. "I admire your tenacity, Christian. Don't think for one second I don't take note to how dedicated you are to this company. It assures me that once I retire that my business will be left in good, hard working hands." He paused. Shit, he didn't like his brief moment silence. "But, with all do respect, this is still technically my company and I still have a full say in all things, including you."

Where the hell was thing going? This was not the same man he had interacted with at the gala. He had been kind, charismatic, and now to think about it totally out of character from the man he knew. His ability to turn it on when it came to business was typical. However, he did not have a unselfish bone in his body. He felt like an idiot now that he hadn't recognized how unusual he had been. He should have known that a lecture would come from the boss.

"Your leave of absence was not a choice. It was a request." Lincoln glanced over his shoulder. "One that I hoped you would take seriously despite after what had happened. I know you don't want to stay away, trust me, I get it. You're more like me than you may care to admit, but I can't hand over my baby to someone who goes off on a binge and nearly wrecks himself."

His baby. Had he been referring to his company or Elena? Or both?

"It was an honest mistake, sir. One that I don't plan on making again." Christian stated firmly.

"I don't think you will, Christian." His facial features soften, but instantly hardened upon his next statement. "You're right. It was a mistake, but it doesn't change the fact that I had to clean up your mess. What you did not only could have ruined your image, but my company's image, too."

There was no subtly in his voice that his company trumped him, and he was right. He had worked relentlessly with the public relations department to ensure that a few minor details, that weren't minor be any means, were not made known publicly. The press would have had a field day if it had been released that he had been under the influence at the time of his crash. A upcoming young business mogul who was about to be handed full control of one of the best companies not only in the city, but the nation, could not have that kind of negative press attached to his name. Nor could a prestigious company uphold the acts of someone who was so careless and reckless as he had been that night.

William Lincoln was all about the elimination of even the slightest chance that his company could lose its reputation. It was not uncommon for unethical departures of employees at the compensation of an in-house settlement. Checks and written agreements weren't consistently distributed and signed, but when the situation arose it was handled to this extent. The same went for several parties involved in the direct interaction of his incident to make sure the essential piece of information never saw the light of day. Lincoln was honestly worse than any politician or government figure in the city or state for that matter.

So, why did he tolerate that kind of behavior? Why did he put his time and effort into a company that was corrupt? Because despite the unethical actions, it was a lucrative business with a household name. People either wanted to work for or with Lincoln Corporations. It was smart business, but that didn't mean he agreed with how things were handled internally, even if it was currently worked in his favor.

The direction of the company once it would be legally possessed in his name would have be altered for the better. Things were going to change for Lincoln Corporations, and there was nothing William could do about it once all things were set into place, so for now, he had to play by his rules.

"I know," Christian hung his head low. "I know I could have partially jeopardized the company and myself. As I said, I intend to not make that mistake or any by that matter again."

"Good," he smirked. As soon as his pleased expression appeared, it was gone.

The sole of his shiny designer loafers padded across the tile floor as he took a seat in the chair across from him. He had hoped that Mr. Lincoln would have made his statement known and left him be, but clearly he had something else on his mind. "How is the wedding planning going?"

"That's a question for Elena." Christian leaned forward. He stifled his urge to groan at the ache that coursed through his back again. "She seems to have it all under control. I figure why get in the way when she knows what she's doing. At this rate, all I have to do is show up."

A boisterous laugh bellowed from Mr. Lincoln's stomach. Funny how a change in topic could completely change his mood.

"When Lydia and I got married, I let her do all of the planning. She just told me when and where." Another chuckle escaped him. "That's Elena niche, just like her mother. She's good at things like that. Probably for the best to just let her take the reigns."

It still baffled him how a man of such intimidation softened to the idea of his daughter sleeping with one of his employees. He should have been fired. He should have been kicked to the curb letting the door hit him on the way out because that's what most bosses and fathers would do. Not William, though. He carried the title as a father, but in no way represented or acted like one. Instead, he saw it as a business opportunity. As a way to ensure his company would sustain profits and legitimacy while keeping his daughter happy. Lincoln Corporations would remain in the family name, just under new management. There was always an ends to a mean when it came to him.

The door to his office busted open in a haste. As if she had sixth sense of knowing that her name had been spoken in conversation, Elena walked in unannounced putting one heel in front of the other. So much for knocking. What if he had been in a meeting?

"There you are," she sighed and removed her sunglasses. "Taylor told me you had come to the office. I thought he was joking, but here you are. Hello, father."

Just when he thought he had escaped her madness, she had followed him to the one place where he thought he could be safe for a few hours. Damn Taylor for his brutal honesty. Next time he would have to advise him to lie or stall her. He hadn't been this agitated with her in awhile. He chalked it up to the stress of his accident, the wedding, and his fascination with a certain brunette.

"Hello, dear. I better get back to work." Lincoln said and rose from his chair. "I'll let you two be."

"No, stay. I have some news." Elena gestured for him to sit again. "I was going to tell the both of you, but this works out perfectly since you're together."

Christian scanned her as she walked into the center of his office. The scent of her strong floral perfume could be smelled from a mile away. She wore a long cream colored trench coat with a tight little number that fell just above her knees underneath. No matter how much she infuriated him from time to time, she did know how to dress impeccably well. The attraction was still there, yet he knew that it had been drifted elsewhere as of lately.

Hanging from her wrist, he noticed she carried her favorite designer travel sized bag. Immediately, he knew why she had come so urgently. She was going somewhere.

"I just got the most amazing call," Elena informed them. "Do you remember that famous French designer, the one that made all the headlines last fall in the runway show that I attended in Prague?"

Honestly, he didn't remember. He knew she had attended a show, but if she had made any mention of this so-called designer, he hadn't been listening. In light of not ruining her moment, he nodded his head and pretended that he knew of what she spoke of.

"Well, he's coming to New York City tonight. He'll be there all weekend and a friend of mine told me that he would be willing to meet and possibly design my dress." She puckered her lips. "Isn't that great?"

"But I thought you already had a dress picked out?" Christian asked. He looked to her father who was equally unamused by her excitement. Women and designer fashion.

"I do, but I'm not about to pass up an opportunity like this one." She placed her hands on her hips.

Her father cleared his throat. "Won't this push back the wedding?" He asked. "You can't possibly have another dress designed, made, and fitted in time."

"I have no doubt that I can have him design, make, and fit me into my dress my the time I say, I do. It's me we are talking about here." Elena puckered her lips. "If I learned anything from my old man, it's how to drive a high bargain. Once I mention that I've already worked out a few spots with different media groups, he'll get the ball rolling. I'm about to make him a well known name in the states."

"That's my girl," Lincoln winked at her.

"When are you leaving?" Christian leaned back in his chair.

"In an hour. The plane is being prepped for my departure, and don't worry I checked with your schedule father to make sure that you weren't in need of it." She assured him. "But I have to get going if I want to make it there before he gets into JFK. I'm meeting with my friend so we can get a few sketches ready."

"When will you be back?"

"Late Sunday," Elena answered him and walked over to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I wish you could come with me, but I know you can't. Plus, can't spoil the surprise for the big day now, can I? I'll call you when I land."

"Okay. Travel safe." He tilted his head up as she placed a light and quick kiss on his lips.

"I'll walk you out," Lincoln rose his seat as Elena replaced her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and removed a scarf from her bag. She carefully draped it around her neck and gave him a final wave before she disappeared out of sight.

Upon being left alone, the silence and his nagging thoughts consumed him once more. His hopes of being productive seemed unattainable. He wanted to dive into the countless emails left unread and go over the stacks of paperwork that had been piled neatly in the corner of his desk. But, as his fingers hovered above the keyboard and his eyes glanced over at all of the untouched files, he felt unmotivated and irritated. How in the world was he going to run a company if he was unable to prove his worth?

This is pointless, Christian thought to himself. He checked the time on his phone. Not a single notification cluttered his lock screen and he groaned in frustration. Obviously, his mind was off tucked away on a temporary vacation that he was not ready to come back from just yet. So, what could he do to preoccupy his mind if work wasn't going to do the trick? His body twitched with the need for stimulation. He could not recall a time before this when he didn't know what to do. His schedule had always been booked. There was always something on the agenda, but not today.

The sinful part of him knew how he liked to spend his free time, especially now that he was fiancee-less for the weekend. He gulped at the mirage that played out in his head. He fantasized the memory of his wet dream that was stuck in replay every other night. On the other nights, he still dreamt of her, but in much more innocent terms. None of the scenes that came to life whilst asleep made sense, though. It was like it was an out of sequence movie that he could not decipher yet. But every time it played its scattered show, she was there.

Come on, Ana, he begged internally for her to make her move. Her will power to stay away was impressive. He had no self-control when it came to her. He wanted her. He needed her after the stunt she pulled. The throbbing between his legs wasn't getting any better, and it was all her fault. Lost in thought of how she tormented him, he caught himself pressing his palm to his crotch.

"Shit," he swore.

Elena probably wasn't even out of the building yet, and here he was about to jerk off to the visual image of another woman. How fucked up was that?

Somewhere in the logical part of his brain, he knew what needed to be done. He knew no matter how long he put on his charade his feelings toward her had begun to fade. Ana wasn't even to blame for that. The lack of an emotional connection had started its disconnection before he had walked out his apartment and set on quest to drink himself stupid. The stress of his relationship, of his career, of his future all sat on his back like a thousand pound weight. Each day it weighed a little more, and each day he wondered what the hell he was doing with his life.

As he fought himself to not slip into the darkness that held his soul and all the questions that continued to build up, he picked up his phone and contacted Taylor. "Taylor, how far are you from the office?"

…..

Thirty minutes later, he stepped out onto the sidewalk where the sun beat down on the back of his neck. It had warmed up compared to the breezy, chilly morning he had endured on his way the office. There was no need for his suit jacket anymore.

As he shrugged it off and Taylor rounded the car to open his door, his attention was redirected to the gut wrenching sound of screeching tires and the loud impact of two colliding cars. People who walked the sidewalks gathered at the at the intersection to see the commotion that no one could avoid. He did not need a closer look to know that someone had blown the red light and hit another car. He just hoped it wasn't too serious.

The indescribable feeling that washed over him had tensed every muscle in his body. All he could think about was how similar the sound of his car and Ana's must have sounded when he had hit her. He had no memory of the actual crash, but it didn't take much for his imagination to paint the pictures inside his head. His hands shook at the thought. "Taylor, call 911." He ordered him.

"Already on it." Taylor withdrew his phone and placed it to his ear.

If anyone was hurt, immediate medical attention needed to arrive. He had no idea if any of the onlookers had done so, but it was better to act than do nothing at all.

Instead of his day spent out on the lake like he planned in his thirty minute wait for Taylor to arrive, he debated the idea of calling Flynn. Never in his life had he experienced the notion of PTSD. There was nothing traumatic enough to render an episode, until about a month ago. He hadn't even seen the accident happen, but the noise alone had done a number on him. He felt physically shaken by it. The urge to hurl his breakfast onto the sidewalk tossed and turned in his stomach. No one even noticed or cared that he was emotionally breaking down in public, except for Taylor, who approached him with a steady hand.

"The ambulance is on its way." He informed him. "Sir? Are you alright?"

"I'm, I'm," he uttered repeatedly unable to speak. His mouth had gone dry and his ability to form a sentence had escaped him. He was in shock.

"I think you should sit down," Taylor advised. "You look whiter than a ghost, sir."

His strong and directive hands guided him toward the open door of the car as his eyes scanned the crowd. Unsure of what he was looking for, he frantically searched the nearby sidewalk. His pulse raced. His palms went clammy, and amongst the sea of people that he saw her. How in the world he knew she was close was beyond him? Some people call that intuition. He called it fucking luck.

Next to his office building, she pressed her body against the exterior and covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were shut tight. Her legs looked like they were about to give out from underneath her. She appeared to be in pain, but not the kind that one would assume. It was a type of pain that only he could understand. A pain that had just engulfed him in a matter of minutes.

"Taylor, start the car. I'll be right back." He stated firmly. The questioning of his sanity could be heard as he left Taylor to his assigned task and made his way quickly toward her. A million thoughts crossed his mind as to what he would say or do, but the only action he followed through with a tight embrace.

With his arms, he circled her shaking body. For any normal person, they would have pushed him away. They would have screamed something obscene at him for being so bold, but she didn't even flinch. She remained tucked in his arms holding on to the jacket he had left at her place.

Author's Note: First off, thank you for all of your lovely comments and support. I noticed a few of you followed my blog, .com and my Wattpad account. Thank you! All of the links are in my bio if you want to follow me. Why I am really writing this note is because I'm going to by flying out of town this week and will be gone until the end of the month. I don't know if I will have time to write or update, so I wanted to make sure you guys knew what was going on and weren't left wondering when I will update next. There is a possibility that I could update sooner rather than later, but not promises. Just be patient and I'll back in two to three weeks. Thanks! Xoxo