CHAPTER 29 – THAT LOVING FEELING

You, lift my heart up, when the rest of me is down
You, you enchant me, even when you're not around
If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down
I'm latching on babe, now I know what I have found

I feel we're close enough
I wanna lock in your love
I think we're close enough
Could I lock in your love, baby?

-Latch (Disclosure ft Sam Smith)-


(CPOV)

I strut out towards the backyard like some poor bastard who has just won the Stanley Cup, the Superbowl, and the goddamn lottery overnight. With Ana proudly tucked at my side I feel as though I'm king of the fucking world.

King of the fucking world.

Ana stands oblivious next to me. She gushes on and on about how beautiful everything is, without the slightest inclination as to how she makes me feel. Instead of taking it all in with the innocent curiosity that she does, I find myself more fixated with how beautiful she is: the gentle upwards pull of her dark chestnut hair revealing the creamy skin of her neck, so soft when I kiss it. Or the way the charcoal outline and smoky coloring around her eyes make her blue irises radiant and translucent in contrast. And the adorable 'O' her shiny lips repeatedly makes as she continues to stare in awe wherever she looks has me weak in the knees with how much I feel for her, how much I want her all the time. Jesus-Mary-and-Joseph I'm so fucking… happy.

As the clock strikes six-thirty and the guests begin to arrive in droves, the wait staff circulate around the grounds with glasses of champagne and trays of appetizers. A live band plays in the background – a mellow string quartet strumming melodic notes while the humid summer's air surrounds us. It's the perfect night for an outdoor event; it always is, as though Grace has the power to summon such a feat in Seattle.

The lively chatter surrounds us as businessmen, politicians, athletes and celebrities mill about dressed in sharp tuxedos and expensive gowns, ornate masks sat delicately upon their faces. Air kisses are blown on cheeks and hands are thrown up in greeting from close and afar as the night kicks off.

Ana's speechless when she sees the full extent of my mom's hard work once we step off the back terrace and head down towards the main event area: lavish silk cream tents planted on the immaculate lawn, billowy and tied down with golden holsters. Twinkling lights hang from the posts, large lanterns fixed around the perimeter. Gold linens embellish each place setting, feathered cream centrepieces with hanging diamonds and fresh flowers sat robustly on each table adding a touch of understated elegance – simple colors in the most luxurious materials.

Cream, white and gold has always been the theme for Coping Together. The simplicity of the neutral tones is broken up each year by Grace's color of choice, this year being orchid. The vibrant purple is showcased wherever you look: in the up-lighting cascading along the panes of the tent, the occasional purple feather poking through the cream centrepieces, and small bouquets in water vases surrounded by tealights tying it all together.

Lastly, a large dancefloor made of dark hardwood is located down by the lake, uncovered and open, inviting to all. I look forward to sharing a dance with Ana under the midnight stars later, holding her in my arms for all to see. It's not something I've ever done before, yet another first I look forward to sharing with her.

"This is incredible." She smiles, leaning up to kiss my cheek. I take two drinks off a nearby server's tray, handing one glass to her. She takes a sip, mmm-ing in delight. "Your mom does this every year? How does she do it all?"

"She has a lot of help, it's a big event and takes almost all year to plan but she does most of it herself. She's been doing it for so long that now it pretty much plans itself – florists, caterers, rental companies – they offer their services in exchange of having their names on the program as a sponsor. But Grace is just the master of multi-tasking; she could plan this in her sleep. There's not a thing that she isn't good at doing, that's just the way she's always been." I can't help but feel proud at the sentiment. Grace is perfect in all ways; much like Ana.

"Sounds like she never stops working. Sound familiar?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I wink.

"You're just like her, you know. Hardworking, always doing things for others." She says sweetly. "She's an inspiration, just like you."


The public has always shared an unhealthy interest in my personal life and word quickly spread about my plus-one invite to tonight's event. Luckily I had the foresight to anticipate how those smarmy no-good do-gooders would attach themselves to me all night. It happens wherever I go: some ill-advised brownnoser tries to weasel a few minutes of my time in hopes that I'll give them a meeting, where they'll proceed to tell me their entire life story and why they deserve my money. Afterwards I'm forced to pull them out from my ass and tell them to fuck off with a bland stare not wanting that meeting in the first place, taking a nonchalant sip of my drink as Taylor rids them from my vicinity. It's a well-choreographed dance I must admit. I've had even the most powerful and cockiest of men snivelling at my feet, acting like some embarrassing sobbing adolescent girl front row at a Justin Bieber concert rather than my supposed peers in the business world. Sometimes I think these men actually have vaginas it's so ridiculous.

As it were, I was sure to send a warning to all guests to more or less keep their fucking distance. I don't like them on a good day; that sentiment is only going to extend into tonight more so than ever because I don't want anyone crowding Ana and startling her. If people thought I was a giant dick before they're going to be in for a real surprise if I get the slightest inkling that someone has made Ana uncomfortable.

Most of the guests heed my warning mainly sending polite nods with eager eyes begging me to invite them over. I brush them off with cool indifference, though it doesn't stop the more obtuse of the bunch from approaching me in order to get a few minutes of my time. I've spoken to a few; only because Ana keeps poking me in the arm and telling me to 'be nice'.

Why can't she 'be nice' and not make me is what I'd really like to ask her. 'Be nice'… what the hell is that supposed to mean? She tells me I'm not supposed to scoff in irritation every time someone says hello, nor should I swear under my breath every time someone walks by.

But really, I don't care.

Her lips twitch in amusement. "It's like watching a two-man show, but it's only you. Will you settle down already? And stop being so frowny. I don't care how cute you are, you're scaring people away."

"That's the point." I mumble.

"I don't care." She mouths before giving me a raised eyebrow that tells me I'm to listen, and I'm to listen to her now. It's the same eyebrow that Grace and Mia have when they're not to be argued with.

Well, damn.

Huffing and puffing all the while, I talk to a few of the less pitiful looking guests, particularly those who show a concern for Ana and ask if she is okay as word of what had happened hit the evening news last week. The others who blatantly ignore her even though she's standing right next to me I'm quick to dismiss. No one will disrespect Ana, especially not in my parents' home nor in my presence. Makes me livid.

"Well if it isn't the princess and her ugly toad billionaire." Elliot leers as he walks around a group of people, smiling all the while as he schmoozes the crowd. He kisses Ana's cheek, winks at me, kisses her again, then pulls away before I have a coronary. "You look beautiful, Ana. Christian, less so. It really baffles me Ana why you have such low standards."

"Thank you. You look very handsome as well. And my date is not a toad." She pouts. "My standards are just fine."

"Ah, he's already put you under his spell then. You naïve little girl. It's never too late to make a switch for the much more superior Grey. Look at me baby, you simply can't resist me for long." He flashes that frat boy smile, making her giggle.

"Perhaps a kiss will turn my toad into a prince." She turns towards me.

"It's worth a shot." I shrug, eyes narrowed at my idiot brother.

With a smile that could melt an iceberg, she cups my cheeks with both her hands and reaches up on her tip-toes leaning in and giving me the sweetest, softest of kisses on the lips. Her mouth lingers before pulling away, her eyes slowly blinking open.

"And?"

"It worked." She murmurs. "My very own Prince Charming."

"Hmm, it must mean we're meant to be."

When I realize how that sounds, how very 'I'm in a serious relationship-y' that sounds, I don't have time to cover it up because she says:

"Must be." And her eyes twinkle with delight, her shy smile right where I expect it to be.

"Gag." Elliot coughs unceremoniously.

I feel the heat rising at my collar once again. Why do I keep forgetting myself when others are around?

"Still looks like a toad to me. A wimpy toad at that." Elliot snickers shaking his head, though I'm just able to catch the obvious surprise in his eyes before the look is gone.

Truthfully I'm just as surprised as he is at the fact that it doesn't even bother me having him see me like this. I want the world to know that Ana is my girlfriend. I don't want to hide her like some dirty little secret or something to be ashamed of. Truthfully I want to shout it from the top of a mountain that she is mine and write her name in big fucking letters all over Seattle so the whole damn town knows it. Hell, I'd personally handwrite a note to every single fucker in this city just to send a point that she belongs to me.

Now there's an idea. I could have a formal letter drawn up and everything.


Dinner goes well, our table made up of my family and a few close friends of my parents. Ana shares some stories of her time at WSU and has everyone at the table in stitches by the time she's done. She's demure and polite and so charmingly innocent as she gets to know my parents, trading teasing words with Elliot. She's even able to keep up with Mia, who constantly interrupts eager to talk to her. I try to help Ana out whenever I can, but Mia is nearly sitting on Ana's lap hanging on to her every word. It's so bizarre I don't know how to respond. I'm embarrassed and mortified and amused all at once; my poor girl is such a good sport about everything.

When it's time for the auction Mia puts up a valiant effort to get Ana to go up and be one of the girls auctioned off for a dance. Vehemently Ana shakes her head, tripping over her words as she tries to get Mia to move onto another topic.

"Ana, please! It'll be sooo much fun! All you have to do is stand there; someone makes up a story about who you are, and then people bid for your first dance. You could raise so much money, I'm sure everyone here is going to want to dance with you."

If Mia hadn't been sitting so far away from me I would have given her a brotherly kick underneath the table. There's no way I would ever let some fucker outbid me, let alone get Ana's first dance to claim as their own.

"I can't… no, please Mia, sorry. All those people looking at me, I can't do it." Ana apologizes, beseeching me to help her out.

"Mia, enough. It's too much, don't force Ana."

"I'm not forcing her." Mia pouts, though she puts on her 'please, I'm adorable' face on for good measure. Shit. I look away, huffing in mild annoyance.

"Drop it."

"Please Ana! Christian!"

I hear Elliot snickering next to me, knowing I've never been able to say 'no' to that face. It's how Mia convinced me to send her and ten of her bestest friends ever in the whole world to London on her 18th birthday. It's how she convinced me to buy her a brand new car for her 21st with every single upgrade imaginable. And it's also how she managed to weasel out a three-month trip to Paris to 'find herself' when college didn't work out for her, though I suspect she spent more time eating Parisian macarons than learning how to make them at the pastry school she was meant to be at.

"I'll just put in a donation in lieu of Ana standing up there. You're being rude, Mia. Don't you care how Ana feels about this? You're embarrassing her."

Crossing her arms across her chest, Mia purses her lips. I know her intentions are good but I don't want Ana to feel pressured into throwing herself into the spotlight. I also couldn't bear to see her come undone if anything were to go amiss. She's still so fragile and in such a delicate head space that I just don't want to put her in a position that will completely overwhelm her.

"It's fine." I turn around surprised when Ana's voice interrupts our sibling stand-off. "I'll… I'll do it. It's for charity after all."

"Baby, don't. You don't have to do this. See what you've done, Mia." I huff.

She looks down, frowning deep in thought. But now that she's made up her mind, she nods her head once affirmatively.

"No, I know. But I'll do it." She grants me her beautiful smile and I'm torn between pushing the issue more or just leaving it be. I don't want to embarrass her further as my entire family is watching us, but deep down I have a really bad feeling about this. Earlier I had wanted to parade her around, but that was because at the very least I was by her side. I just don't want her to get up on that stage in front of three-hundred people all staring at her and for her to have a sudden panic attack. I don't think I could handle seeing her come undone that way, least of all in public.

Mia lets out a squeal of delight, clapping her hands in triumph. "It'll be so much fun, I promise!" She bounces in her seat. "I do it every year, and usually it's one of the bigger donors that bids on me. I bet they'll probably bid on you too because you're with Christian."

Ana's brow furrows.

"I know, I know, it sounds kind of… medieval or archaic or whatever. But it's really just an innocent auction and a way to raise money. It's just for fun."

"Except for the girl who doesn't get bid on." Elliot murmurs.

Ana's eyes snap towards him, worried.

"Shut up, Elliot!" Mia groans. "He's lying; everyone always gets bid on. Come on, we'll go sign up since it's about to start."

Before I can even give Ana some last words of comfort or a peck on the cheek, Mia has her up and across the tents in no time.


The moment the auction starts I watch Ana's face closely. The bright lights filter onto the stage where the band was playing earlier but has now been cleared to make way for the twenty or so women participating in tonight's auction. Ana stands in the first half of the group, the fifth to be auctioned off after Mia.

She's absolute perfection as she stands on stage with the others, her beautifully pale skin glowing against the darkness of her dress. Even from a distance I can see the brilliance of her blue eyes peering shyly behind her mask, eyes scanning for mine. I grin once our gazes finally connect, a swell of pride in her braveness to do this washing over me. The pink flush creeps up her neck and fans delectably across her cheeks, our gaze briefly broken as she looks down bashfully.

The MC for the night goes through his index cards, pretending to read off synopses of each girl. From TV characters, to who's dating who in the celebrity world, even people present tonight get an honorable mention in his silly tirades. I'm even able to chuckle heartily when Ana's introduced as the new CEO of Grey Enterprise Holdings after having knocked the previously cantankerous CEO out of the running with her alluring beauty. Ain't that the fucking truth. I don't listen to the rest as I watch her giggle on stage, biting that damn lip making her more irresistible. The moment the bidding starts, I'm thrown as bid after bid is called out.

"We'll start the bidding at one-thousand dollars…"

"One-thousand." Says the man nearest the front of the stage. He's older than me, arrogant and cocky as if that's a worthy enough bid. Fucker.

"Fifteen-hundred." Says another man off to the side.

"Two-thousand."

"Twenty-five hundred."

"Five-thousand." The same man who made the first bid shouts. Still cocky, but I can see the sweat starting.

I'm finally able to find my voice when another, this time familiar, voice calls out.

"Twenty-thousand."

The entire night air goes silent, a whoosh of surprised murmurs quickly flitting across the lawn. My head snaps to the table a few rows down from mine, only to be met by the haughty look of one John Flynn. Raising his glass in merriment toast, the fucker actually smiles at me, eyes raised in challenge.

"Fifty-thousand." I shout, a second round of gasps making its way through the crowds.

Undeterred, John merely shrugs his shoulders, upping the ante once more.

"Sixty." He taunts, leaning back in his chair thoughtfully stroking his chin.

With finality, I stand up, my stare never wavering from John's. "One. Hundred. Thousand." At the table I hear my mom shriek in disbelief, Elliot full-on laughing next to me. I catch a glimpse of my dad shaking his head, a grin planted firmly on his lips. Looking up at the stage I see Ana standing with her mouth gaping, Mia bouncing excitedly next to her.

"Going once… going twice… and the winner of Miss Steele's first dance goes to Mr. Grey for a whopping one-hundred thousand dollars!"

The crowd cheers raucously as I make my way through the collection of tables, my eyes focused on the devastatingly beautiful Anastasia, eager to claim my prize. And in front of all these people, I muse. Helping her walk down the few steps off the stage, I'm unable to resist giving her still gaping mouth a full-on kiss triumphantly. The walk back to the table is one of gloating as I beam my way down the aisle, all the while gripping Ana's small hand firmly in mine.

Arriving back at our table, it only takes a moment before Elliot is teasing me, my mom and Mia gushing at how romantic that was. My dad just quietly chuckles at his end of the table, his head shaking.

"Christian, why didn't you bid on me? Or Elliot?" Mia huffs. She went for a respectable ten-thousand dollars, second place only to Ana.

"Because I'd rather use my money on something important." Elliot smirks, earning a glare from Mia. "Unlike Mister-Poor-Money-Management over here, I don't just throw hundred dollar bills around at pretty girls."

"The prettiest." I correct, winking at Ana who has yet to say a word.

"I can't believe you did that." She murmurs, hugging my arm to her chest as she leans over my shoulder. "You're certifiably insane. Have you no good sense? That's too much money!"

"Au contraire." I tap her nose. "I would argue that that's the best hundred grand I've ever spent. And I'm sure you'll make it worth every penny."

"Christian, please, you have to take your bid back or something. Tell them you made a mistake. We can't afford this, I barely make enough money for rent! I might have some cash in my purse, do you think they'll want the money right away? The whole thing? Have you seen my purse?"

I really, truly, try not to laugh. The seriousness on her face as she searches for her purse has her frowning and her brows furrowed in thought. Everyone else at the table is doing a piss-poor job of hiding their own amusement, stifling their laughs to save Ana from further chagrin.

"Do you think they'll be okay if we pay it little by little as long as we promise to pay it? I'm sure I could put in a few extra hours at work a week. I can't take out a lot of money at once – not that I have any – but I'm sure we can figure something out? Oh gosh what are we going to do?! How can we afford this?" She laments, digging through her tiny bag as if in there lies one-hundred grand neatly folded inside.

"Ana sweetheart. Calm down." My mom soothes, her lips tugging at the corners. Even she's unable to ignore the hilarity of the situation.

"Yeah Ana. I'm pretty sure Mr. Mogul over here is good for a couple bucks. I'm sure he'll be able to spot you. No need to start turning out tricks to pay this off." Elliot pipes up.

It's only then, when she peeks up from her futile search that she sees everyone's polite smiles poorly masking their entertained looks. Her cheeks take on their familiar rosy hue, her head dropping in embarrassment.

"It'll be okay." I murmur against her shoulder, giving her a playful nudge as she giggles back. Her shoulders slump in relief, a soft breath escaping her lips. It never ceases to amaze me how often she forgets who I am. To her I'm just Christian her boyfriend. I'm not a CEO, I'm not someone with a lot of money, I'm just the guy who sleeps next to her at night. I'm the one who makes her tea in the morning, and I'm the one who calls her at lunchtime to see how her day's going.

She looks at me and I see the genuineness of who she is. She's the quiet girl who gets nervous when more than one person is looking at her. She's the girl who would offer to pay for something even though no one asked her to, nor would she let the fact that she doesn't have the money stop her from trying. And she's the girl... she's the girl who after being humiliated and attacked not even two weeks ago willingly put herself in the spotlight to raise money for a cause so personal to me that it's become personal to her. It's become a cause worthy enough to her that she would put aside her own fears and her own tragedies to do this for me.

Picking up her hand I press a soft kiss against the inside of her wrist – the same spot where she sprayed perfume earlier that now smells just like her – while my heart races in my chest. All of these things are just so Ana, so honest and sincere, a few of the many things that I love about her. Kissing her again, my lips falter as I look up and catch those mesmerizing blue eyes peering shyly back at me when the thought sinks in.

Did I just say…?


A/N: Please take the time to leave a review, your support is greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading :)