My meeting on Monday with Kate went as well as could be expected. I mean, it was no worse than a government spy interrogation. She wanted information on every tiny detail of every decision I'd made over the previous month. I was dying to tell her to fuck off, but unfortunately I knew she had a right to be mad; I had left her out of too many decisions as of late.

During another one of her long-winded lectures, my phone vibrated with a text message. I almost ignored it, but I was so exceedingly bored I was open to any distraction. I pulled it into my lap and glanced at the screen. It was from an unknown number.

"I want to talk to you about Christian. You free for lunch?"

Ah, fuck. What was this? An ex-girlfriend? A hopeful future girlfriend? I wasn't in the mood for drama.

I tapped out a quick message back. "You've got the wrong number."

My phone buzzed again. I fought my desire to look, but Kate was starting into her rant about my relationship status – perfect timing.

"It's Elliot. I need to talk to you."

What the hell? Elliot too, now? I wanted to roll my eyes so hard…

Instead, I interrupted Kate. "So what is this?" I held up the screen displaying Elliot's message. "You've got Elliot on my case now, Kate? You wonder why I don't let you in on my decisions – this is why. You get involved and then fuck around."

Kate stared curiously at the text. "I have no idea what that's about."

I almost kicked her out of the meeting right then and there. "Oh come on, Kate! Give me a break. There's no way you're not involved in this."

Her look of surprise darkened. "I have never lied to you once in my entire life, Anastasia Steele. I may be overly meticulous, but I do not spin tales to my best friends."

She was right. The girl was painfully honest and as difficult as that was, I knew I could always trust that what came out of those ridiculously judgmental lips was the truth.

I pursed my lips. "I wonder what it's about then?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but Elliot doesn't talk about Christian a whole lot. It's probably important."

I shot her another look. "I don't need anyone else's criticism of my sex life."

She smirked. "You're talking about Elliot here. He never criticizes anyone about anything. He's so 'live and let live', it's annoying." She sat back in her chair and folded her arms in her lap.

I gazed at her for a long moment. It was clear why she and Elliot were together; he complemented her so well. She'd never survive a moment with someone just like her. Which raised a lot of questions about me and Christian – were we too much alike? Was there any way our arrangement could work? Or would we end up killing each other with the massive size of our egos?

"I'll meet you at Slater's at 12:30pm," I tapped into my phone. Whatever Elliot had to say, he was not Kate. He'd be kind and understanding. And I had to admit: I was curious what it was he wanted to tell me.

After a good two hours of impeccable levels of patience, I finally plowed out of my office and down the elevator to get a breath of fresh air. I walked around the side of the building to an alley and leaned up against the wall.

"This would be a great week to take up smoking," I mumbled to myself.

"That would definitely not be allowable in this arrangement," a low voice huffed.

I threw my arms in the air. "How do you always know where I am? It's starting to creep me out."

Christian flashed a bedazzled smile. "You greatly underestimate your sense of presence. It's hard to miss you when you storm out of the office like an A-bomb." I just grunted. "I take it the meeting with Kate didn't go well?"

I looked away. "It was fine. But I've got to work her into the decision-making process." I turned back to him. "You need to start reporting to her as well as me so she feels like she's in the loop."

His gorgeous face fell. "I don't think that's a good idea."

I tried to curb my annoyance. "It's only fair. She's an equal partner in the business and I don't have time to be sending her updates on every discussion we have. It makes more sense for you to just copy her on emails and give her a brief weekly update."

His jaw set. "She may be an equal partner, but she doesn't oversee sales and marketing. It's not her domain."

I couldn't believe he was arguing with me on this. Not a good standard to set for your first week, buddy.

"And this isn't your decision," I snapped. "She's above your pay grade."

I thought he might pop a capillary. "My business experience outweighs hers by at least five years – and that's assuming you don't count the three businesses I ran while I tried to pay for college. I don't need to be running my department by both parents."

I squared my shoulders and put on my best stern expression. "Christian, I know you miss being the big man on campus, but this is not your rodeo. Your business experience outweighs mine too, but you still answer to me. And you answer to Kate now too."

His face suddenly became stone. "No."

"Excuse me?" I seethed.

"It's my department. My decision. I'm saying no. You'll have to work out something else."

He turned to walk away, but I grabbed his suit jacket and yanked hard. He reluctantly faced me again, just in time to see the steam shoot out my ears. "It's not your department; it's mine." My face was hot with anger. I stepped closer so he could see my insistence loud and clear. "It's not your business; it's mine. If you want to play dominant or alpha or whatever the fuck it's called in the bedroom; that's fine." My fists clenched at my side, but I refused to lose my composure. "But when it comes to my business, I'm the douchebag you answer to. And if I say this is how it is, then This. Is. How. It. Fucking. Is."

I raised my eyebrows to ensure he understood my message. His expression was as stubborn as mine, but he didn't say anything, just bore his eyes into me like daggers as if waiting for me to cave and let him have his way.

I stood strong until he gave me the tiniest, almost invisible, nod of agreement.

"Good," I grumbled. I straightened my fitted black dress and adjusted my heels. Without another word, I brushed past him in the alley, turned the corner, and stormed back into the office building even more angry than I had been when I left.

I got a few looks from other workers in the elevator as it rose to my floor, but nobody dared say anything. I started counting to ten and singing Christina Perry songs in my head to calm myself down.

I entered my floor in a somewhat rational state of mind. I signaled my assistant to grab me a coffee and headed straight for my desk to review some files for an afternoon meeting with supply chain. I only had a few hours until I had to meet Elliot for lunch, and I was already burned out. I had no emotional energy left. And I feared that what Elliot had to say might require a rather large portion of it.