AN: So, second meeting part one. Sorry for having to split this in two again but there are only so many hours in the day and real life demands also have to be dealt with.

Ch 37 Building bridges (The tiger and his cub) PART ONE

The following day Eddy was eating lunch at his desk, doing some research when his phone beeped with a text from Christian: 'Would you like to go sailing Saturday?'

He starred at the words for a few seconds. He had never contemplated that particular question before.

'I don't have any experience of sailing but yes I would like to go.'

'An acquaintance has a catamaran in Charleston. Weather is supposed to be sunny but we will not have the best wind for sailing until after 2pm. We could power out and then sail back.'

Again Eddy starred at the message for a few seconds. If the man was a sailor he would check the weather before he planned on going out sailing. Still, the brief message hinted heavily at the effort Christian had been putting in organizing this meeting in less than a day.

'That sounds great. When should I be there?'

'If you can make it 11.00 at James Island Yacht Club. It is a member's only club but you will be expected.'

'I will make it. Thank you for coming over. I am looking forward to it.'

His previous research abandoned for the moment, Eddy started looking up whatever he needed to know about his first sailing experience. By the time Saturday morning arrived he had acquired a pair of shoes suitable for a boat deck and arranged with Nick to spend the night and the following morning in Charleston. Beyond that most of the information had proven just too much to sort through for the complete novice that he was. Besides he had had something else to worry about.

When he told his parents and Emma about Christian's suggestion for the meeting Saturday, his dad's reaction had been a little hard to read but his mom just froze with a blank expression on her face.

"Belle? Do you think it's a bad idea?" Dan asked.

Coming back to them from wherever she had been Ana shook her head: "No. He is pretty good at that, at least he was back then. But there is something I realized since you told me you were going to see him this weekend. I don't know if you want to do anything about it but…it's his birthday this Friday."

Somehow a card or a simple text message did not seem enough. Even if he had only met the man once and he still felt angry and hurt by the choices both his biological parents had made, Christian had been a constant presence in their lives and Eddy had to admit he was grateful for much of the help Christian had provided - the 'opportunities' he had created for him - through the years. This left him with the need to figure out how to handle the birthday of a biological father he didn't really know and who was a billionaire who could probably buy the whole town if he wished. His mom's suggestion of 'something personal' didn't really help. He wasn't ready to share that much of himself yet.

Then Wednesday evening the samples from the official graduation photograph arrived and the moment when he had shaken hands with Christian on stage was part of the samples. His first reaction to the picture was to remember the enthusiasm and determination to succeed, the promise he had made to himself to rise to the challenges ahead of him. Then feelings of hurt and betrayal that he had not known who that man shaking his hand was, clawed at him and he longed for the innocence he had lost since finding out the truth. He had not been abandoned by his father but stolen away from him. For the first time he truly acknowledged that his relationship with his mother had changed and might never be as it once was. With the loss of trust came a distance he resented but couldn't help.

He kept returning to that picture time and again through the evening and each time it evoked new thoughts and feelings and eventually an idea formed. The time was too short to get the official photograph but Nick had taken pictures. The following day he enrolled Emma's help and after a couple of hours of cleaning, enhancing and editing he ended up with a picture of good enough quality to print and frame. After several hours of pondering over that moment in time, what to write on it had been an almost foregone conclusion: 'A day I will always remember'. The question of how to sign it was another matter entirely and kept him tossing and turning through half the night.

He knew what Christian wanted and at some point around 3 am on Friday morning he gave in. The picture was a present for him, might as well make it what he wished for: he signed the picture as 'Teddy'.

xXx

The drive to Charleston was a familiar one. With his new shoes and Christian's wrapped present on the passenger seat he left Rock Hill before breakfast on Saturday. The private club was as close to the ocean as one could get and as he passed through North Charleston and the signs indicating the exit towards Detyens, the deal Christian had made with them crossed his mind. That was his one reminder that he was about to enter a world different from the one he normally lived in, especially since his first impression of the club was not particularly impressive. The road ended in front of a nice enough, quite large, one storey building, but the area surrounding it looked a little…shoddy: just a vast parking lot with a few cars parked here and there and a couple of tennis courts somewhere behind him. For a moment he wondered if he was in the right place but then he spotted the two Mercedes SUVs parked a little further down, by a long pier.

Grabbing his shoes and the packed, he got out of the car at the same time as a man in a dark grey business suit exited one of the parked Mercedes and briskly walked towards him.

"Good morning Mr Parson, I am Neil Gamble. If you would follow me sir, Mr Grey is already on board."

He was not addressed as 'Mr Parson' very often and the whole manner of this impeccably dressed person, practically standing at attention in front of him, could have not been more formal if he were greeting some foreign dignitary. He couldn't help a quick glance towards his own polo, casual trousers and shoes which although clean and polished bore the marks of having been worn for a while.

"Oh, just a moment!" he said remembering the jacket his mother had made him take despite the temperature being in the low eighties. 'It can get cold on the water' she had murmured.

The man had patiently waited for him to once again close the door to his car and now led him to the pier. He hesitated and came to a halt before stepping on the narrower structure, but the man reassured him: "You'll be able to change on board, sir. Mr Grey is expecting you."

The pier was T-shaped and a large boat was anchored at the end of the long stretch. As he got closer, the figures on the deck became easier to distinguish. Dressed in a green short sleeved top and standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest and his head slightly tilted towards a shorter man, Christian Grey seemed engrossed in a conversation. The idea that this man was his father had slowly grown to feel more real over the past week but the distance between them, the emotional connection as well as any true knowledge of each other had yet to be bridged. He took a deep breath like he would do before starting one of his Taekwondo routines: that's what he was here for. More assured of his purpose he took the remaining steps and didn't stop again until he reached the side of the vessel.

"Permission to come aboard?" he greeted the two men making use of his new found knowledge of maritime courtesy.

Christian turned his head and his traits, stretched by the seriousness of his previous conversation, relaxed into a beaming smile: "Eddy, good morning. Skipper?" he half turned to the shorter man.

Eddy was instantly reminded why he had struggled so much with the idea that this man was his father: there was no trace of the hesitant middle aged man he had met the previous week and instead of him, standing on the deck bathed in sunlight, was the commanding, charismatic, self-assured man he had seen at his graduation. The man he had placed on a pedestal almost as soon as he had seen him had, despite the courteous question, in reality just dismissed his companion and switched all his attention onto him.

"Permission granted," the stranger said with a smile and moved towards towards Eddy, but Christian beat him to it and stretched his arm to help Eddy take the long step to the first of three steps leading to the deck of the boat. Their hands locked in a firm grip and after only fractionally testing the strength of the arm now forming an extension of his own, Eddy half leaped on board.

"Welcome to the Champagne on Ice," Christian greeted him with a wry grin at the silly name.

"Thank you." Eddy said taking his first look at the deck of a catamaran and trying to recover from the overwhelming moment.

From where he stood at the rear end of the boat, immediately ahead of him was a seating area with two couches and a desk. To the right and slightly above the seating area was the wheel –helm, he reminded himself- half hidden behind a large chair, then straight ahead the entrance to the inside of the boat was divided in three by a glass and metal door covering the middle part.

"A little cramped, I know," said Christian letting go of his hand. Then without missing a beat: "Skipper this is Mr Edward Parson. Eddy, this is Arthur Hale, our skipper."

The two shook hands and the older seaman jutted his chin towards the seating area: "There's a shoe storage compartment under the settee."

A little self-conscious Eddy quickly changed from town shoes and socks to the new boat shoes and to his relief pulling on the handle under the seat revealed a drawer which already contained a pair of shoes. Ignoring the glaring difference in the quality of the foot wear he quickly deposited his own shoes inside and closed the drawer.

He straightened up to see Christian looking at him, his lips no longer curved in a smile but his eyes still shining.

"Eddy, thank you for coming today. This means more to me than I can easily express."

"I am glad I did. I have been looking forward to this," Eddy answered as sincerely as he could, cursing himself for not really being able to return the warmth in the other man's words. Nevertheless Christian acknowledged them with a short nod of his head then turned to their captain: "I'll give Eddy a tour, then we can be underway."

Christian moved towards one of the openings at the end of the seating area and Eddy picked up his jacket and the wrapped present and followed suit into a comfortable if slightly cramped living room. An L shaped couch took most of the space and the table in the middle was set for two.

"I thought we could have lunch while we are underway. A catamaran is much more stable than a single hull – a normal boat – and it's a calm sea, we shouldn't have any trouble with being shaken around." Christian explained. Eyeing the objects in his son's hand he added: "You can just leave those on the couch."

The tour was relatively brief. To the right of the couch, tucked in a corner was what looked like a working desk with some instrumentation visible in the wall mounted panel. 'Navigation station' Christian pointed. On the wall opposite the nav station was a bar which concealed several utilities. Between these two an opening led to three steps and then a corridor which ended at one side in the master bedroom and on the other in the master head complete with shower cabin. Back in the saloon, on the left side and again down a few steps there was a small kitchen – galley - with covered dishes on display on the counter and from the kitchen a corridor to the left led to a small bathroom and the skipper's cabin and another one to the right led to another passenger cabin.

Once again back in the saloon they went out on deck to find the captain already seated in the chair in front of the controls.

"Ready when you are skipper," Christian addressed the older man.

"Very well Mr Grey" said the captain pressing a button by the wheel. The engines roared and the deck under Eddy's feet came alive with a slight vibration.

"A few things you need to be aware of before we get under way, Mr Parson: there are fire extinguishers placed in the kitchen, on the side of the boat besides the helm and at the rear where you came on board. A fire blanket is under the couch in the saloon."

As the captain pointed out the other emergency equipment and procedures, the roar of the engines seemed to lessen until the uneven spluttering became no more than a dull background hum. With a glance to the instrumentation in front of him the captain addressed Christian: "May I suggest you wait with your lunch until we have cleared the marina, we might meet some traffic on the way out."

Christian nodded and went to the seating area on the deck.

"Eddy, let's sit here for a moment. I think you might enjoy the view."

As he took a seat opposite this enigma who was his father, Eddy had full view over the open water and understood what the skipper meant about traffic: the dark blue of the water was liberally strewn with both smaller and larger boats.

He felt the vibration of the engines pick up and with a surprisingly light jolt they were under way. As the skipper kept them on a course towards the open sea, other vessels - mostly sail boats - came closer. Just loud enough to be heard over the hum of the engines Christian explained: "It really isn't that good a day for sailing, not until the wind will pick up this afternoon. We should be able to leave all the sailboats behind soon."

At Teddy's questioning glance he added: "It's a private place to meet and talk undisturbed and if you are up to it we will do some sailing later on. I promised Derek – the owner – I'll test her out."

There was a glint of something hard in Christian's eyes at that last statement, something hinting at the fierce competitiveness that had helped build a business empire from the ground up. Realizing he might have scared his guest with his ominous statement, Christian shook his head: "Sorry. Sailing is one of my hobbies, but it's a competitive community. Derek insists this boat is more fun to sail than mine and has tried to get me on board to prove his claim for a few years."

Seizing the opportunity to learn something about the man, Eddy asked: "Why sailing?"

"You probably wouldn't get that feeling just now, but wait until we get into open water and then when we actually start sailing. There is poetry about the sea as old as mankind."

"'I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky; And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by'" Eddy quoted.

"Yes," Christian nodded, "something like that. The quest for adventure, but also the need to get away sometimes, to be alone and reflect without the buzz of the outside world interfering. To just be and feel alive."

The glint in his eyes and some of the hard determination from before made a reappearance: "The sea doesn't care who you are, where you have come from and where you are going. Once the shore is out of sight and you are alone between the sky and the water, all you have is your skill, your knowledge, and the respect you have learned. The sea doesn't respect anybody, you have to respect her. That's why you have so many traditions and so much superstition still surrounding anything that has to do with boats and sailing. But that is also when it becomes fun, exciting, challenging. You can choose to bow to whatever she throws at you and submit, or you can choose to take a chance, try a daring manoeuvre and carve a way forward for yourself through the wrong wind and choppy waters. Whether that ends in failure or success is entirely down to you, to your awareness of your surroundings, acceptance of what is rather than what you want it to be and respect for the tremendous forces you are attempting to harness."

As if on cue the engines roared, three short but powerful horn signals blared and their speed seemed to decrease.

"Sorry Mr Grey, Sunday driver ahead," their skipper muttered then once again let two short blasts of the horn resonate over the water.

"Somebody got ahead of us and we'll pass them on the left side. The horn acts like the brake lights or the indicator lights on a car," Christian translated as the engines resumed their previously low hum and the boat slowly glided a little to the left. A couple of minutes later they passed a smaller vessel with one of their sails slightly fluttering in the barely there wind.

"So what kind of boat do you have?"

"A Leopard 48. It's a cat, like this one, just a little bigger. For another three feet in length and width I get a larger owner suite with a working area and noticeably more space in the lounge. There is a forward as well as an aft cockpit. It's a nicer sailing experience and you can sail the boat single handed if you have to." Christian's assured quick fire description slowed down a little and his voice lowered as if he wanted to keep the next part just between the two of them: "But it is bigger and the sail configuration is slightly different so David is probably right, this would be faster and quicker to manoeuvre."

"And you don't mind?" Eddy was surprised by the admission.

"No. It's a trade-off," Christian said resuming his normal tone of voice. He had admitted to the shortcoming in confidence to him but the arguments for his choice were for all to hear: "He has the speed and manoeuvrability but the space is small and he needs somebody to help him sail. I have the space to be comfortable and I can sail alone or with an inexperienced crew."

Eddy took a few minutes to admire the view which was indeed something to remember. The water was losing the slight green tinge it had had while they were at the pier and as the space between them and other boats increased it became clearer. The small waves didn't seem to disturb the boat at all and raising his eyes to the point where the water met the sky he began to understand some of that urge to get away and be alone, to just move towards the horizon until everything in your daily life was left behind, and rediscover which parts really mattered. And it dawned on him what Christian was doing: this was more than a 'private place to talk undisturbed'. He had invited him to share something that was personal and important to him, opened a door to his private world.

There were noticeably fewer boats in close proximity now and a look behind him confirmed that they had left the marina and were on the open ocean.

"Shall we go inside?" Christian asked. "Our lunch will need a little help."

"Uh, I'm not a very good cook," Eddy admitted.

"Neither am I, but all we'll need to do is put some plates in a warmer and reheat."

"I can manage that."

Evidently at ease in these surroundings, Christian moved efficiently through the cramped space of the galley, maintaining an aura of competence and control even in this utterly domestic setting. Two lasagne dishes had been left in individual, oven proof plates, on a tray by the preheated oven. A smaller plate with bread rolls was placed nearby and two timers sat atop of an instructions sheet explaining for how long to place the dishes in the oven. With fluid, precise movements, the lasagne and bread were placed in the oven and both timers were set.

"If you don't mind tossing the salad," Christian said with a look at the white china bowl filled with various types of salad leaves and halved cherry tomatoes, "I can take care of the drinks."

Moments later Eddy climbed the few steps to the lounge area in time to see Christian sliding the two other sides of the gliding doors in place. The space was now effectively a private dining room.

"The bread should only take five minutes," he said.

Eddy placed the salad on the table and then sat on the couch. Christian sat on the other side then picked up the bottle of wine: "Will you have a glass of wine?"

"Yes, thank you."

Christian poured into two glasses until they were just over half full and placed the bottle down: "A toast feels appropriate," he said.

Not sure what was expected of him Eddy just looked at the long fingers surrounding the stem of the glass then remembered: "Oh, I have a present for you. Mom said it was your birthday yesterday."

With his head down while looking for the packet under his discarded jacket, he missed the pained expression on Christian's face and the fingers whitening in a tight grip on the glass. By the time he raised his head holding the packet in his right hand, Christian had placed the glass on the table and his face had resumed an almost bland expression, only the eyes alive with a questioning look. As Eddy a little hesitantly stretched his arm to offer him the present over the width of the table, he just couldn't find the power to move.

"Eddy, I…" the words stuck in his throat and he had to swallow against the emotion raging inside him.

For once Eddy found himself being the one better prepared in this meeting. He knew exactly what Christian was thinking as he had debated that very issue with himself.

"We didn't know each other until now," he spelled out the state of their relationship.

"Thank you," Christian said and found the strength to reach out and take the wrapped object from Eddy's hands, with a supreme effort to ignore the deeper meaning behind Teddy's simple explanation. "You really shouldn't have."

"It's not much, just…" he shrugged before he spoiled the secret: "Happy birthday."

Christian quickly found the small bits of tape holding the wrapping paper together and deftly popped them open to un-wrap his gift. He turned the picture frame over and once again froze, this time also holding his breath. He had not been this close to tears since his father had passed away and was determined to not drown Teddy in the overflowing mixture of grief and joy that were now filling him. After staring at the picture for a few seconds he gently placed it on the table besides him and finally dared lift his head and meet his son's eyes.

"Thank you. That was beyond thoughtful. The present and the dedication. I am, again, lost for words to tell you how much this means to me."

The hesitation in his voice and slightly lost look in Christian's eyes gave away some the uncertainty and hesitation Eddy also felt. Although the moment only lasted for an eye blink it helped restore some of the balance in this encounter.

Regaining some of his control Christian once again lifted his glass: "To you," he nodded towards the picture: "To your future." After a heartbeat he added: "Congratulations for your admission at Harvard. That is quite an impressive achievement."

"Thank you," Eddy answered. He was proud of his achievement and beyond the first second not surprised that Christian knew about it.

They both took a sip from the cherry red wine. It was Christian who broke the silence: "I didn't know the pictures were ready yet."

"They aren't. I have just received the proofs to order them."

"But then how…" Christian looked at the picture still lying on the table.

"Nick has taken pictures," Eddy admitted and abruptly found himself once again relieving the craziness that had followed his graduation.

"How is your arm?" Christian gently enquired proving his thoughts had taken the same direction.

"It's fine, no real damage," Eddy answered absentmindedly, mostly concentrating on letting go of the confusion and hurt feelings of that day. He wanted this to be a new beginning, a step removed from their still mostly unclear past. But the images kept flitting through his mind until the reel stuttered on the last few moments he remembered from the Emergency Room.

"The man who saved my life, Taylor, I have his address from the police report and I sent him a card to thank him, but by the time we returned to the hospital on Monday he had already been discharged and they wouldn't give us any details. Mom called somebody who knew him and said that he was going to be fine. She said he used to work for you, that he was protecting me."

As if he was now sitting in the shadow, the lines on Christian's face looked harder, deeper, the recollection of how close his son had been to serious injury, or worse, making the distance and stiffness between them harder to bear.

"He wanted to be transferred closer to his family, but he has been discharged now and he is recuperating," he confirmed.

His words caused Teddy to straighten up a little and move his hands closer to the edge of the table, physically moving away from him a few inches.

"Taylor was my head of security. I have reason to believe he was aware of what Ray was doing while you were in Montesano and failed to inform me. He left my employment soon afterwards," Christian added trying to re-establish the tenuous bond of trust at the price of reminding both of them just why they were in this situation.

"So he knew where we were?" Eddy asked, a little confused by the succinct information.

One of the timers went off and Christian went to bring the bread rolls before he replied: "Not then, no. Everybody else had failed in their attempts at finding you and I was starting to lose hope," he admitted, and pushed the salad closer to Teddy in a clear invitation to help himself. "I called him and asked him to pick up the search as a favour. He owed me for failing his duty and he knew that, so he accepted and found you a few months later. I didn't know he was keeping watch over you until very recently. I wasn't sure of his intentions so I had him followed. The driver in the third car was working for me."

"Yes I know," Eddy admitted. "I have been wondering about that, about why he was there." He stopped and frowned as something crossed his mind. "If Taylor has known where I was for all this time and didn't do anything about it, why would he show up just now?"

Christian sighed: "Because of me. Taylor has lived for years with the guilt over his involvement. Had he told me of his suspicions back then, none of this would have happened. He has wrestled with that guilt for years and with my reappearance in such a public way…I didn't know if he was going to take the first step and contact you or your mother."

As the frown didn't lessen on Teddy's face, he explained, putting as much feeling and sincerity in his words as he could: "I am, for myself, incredibly happy that we have met, that we are speaking, that we are here today. But I am acutely aware that this has brought into your life some of the turmoil I have been trying to avoid causing."

The moment from a few days ago when he had longed for the innocence of not knowing the truth flashed through Eddy's mind, but more powerful than that was the frustration and anger that had been building in him while listening to the various explanations of why he had not known his biological father until now.

"I had a right to know," he blurted the words that would no longer be contained.

Christian remained silent for several seconds holding the determined stare of his son. He was careful to not even blink as he started speaking: "I am sorry, Eddy, if I made the wrong decision in staying away. I know that there is no name for the father on your birth certificate and I suppose I knew that at some point you would ask about that, I just had no way of knowing when that time would be, when it would be appropriate for me to step out of the shadow and back into your life. I don't know if you are aware but I am adopted. I don't know who my biological father is and I have no interest in finding out. As far as I am concerned Carrick was my father. I admit that I have always held onto some hope that you would make a different choice, but as I didn't come forward immediately when I found you, it seemed to me that I had lost the right to make that decision for you."

Teddy was still not saying anything so he added: "I thought you were happy."

"I was," Eddy admitted and absentmindedly raked the fingers of his hand through his hair.

The buzzer of the second timer went as Christian followed the hand movement, spellbound by the familiar gesture. As Eddy slowly lowered his arm the two men's eyes met again and the connection that existed between them despite the missing years, the hurt and the betrayals, ignited and burned with a flare too bright to be ignored. Surprised recognition slowly made way to wonder in Christian's eyes while Eddy's remained troubled and far away. The persistent mechanical sound of the timer filled the air clamouring for their attention.

"I'll go get the food," Christian broke the silence in a gentle whisper.

Moments later Christian deposited the hot lasagne plates on the table and picked up the framed picture to place it at a safe distance from the food. It was Eddy's turn to follow the hand movement and his eyes kept darting to the picture as they went through the mundane tasks of plating up.

He took a deep breath and released it then raised his eyes from the layer of gratinated cheese covering his portion of lasagne only to find Christian looking at him rather than at his own plate.

"The graduation ceremony...Mom never said how she figured out that you have found us, she just said she only found out a few weeks ago, but that was before the graduation."

"I wrote to her before the graduation to let her know I would be there."

"But, with everything you said about wanting to stay away, why reveal your hand like that?"

"Can you eat while I tell you?" Christian enquired.

The unexpected question took Eddy by surprise, but he nodded and dipped his fork into the lasagne.

"I must admit serendipity played a big role, with several events concurring, all pointing towards the fact that our paths were going to cross," he started then stopped waiting for Teddy to actually take a bite of their main course.

Between small bites for himself and moments of silence where he waited for Teddy to resume his meal, Christian told his son about the coincidences that all came together within a few months:

"The first event was a clerical mistake. The universities eligible for the Rose Award are chosen randomly each ear through a draw and I then get a list for final approval. Once I approve the list one of the secretaries contacts the relevant universities and obtains contact details for the persons who need to be informed that their institution has been chosen to participate. The list for this year included the University of Southern California. For some reason she was never able to fully explain, the secretary looked up the wrong number and then passed on the wrong contact details to the team responsible for the practicalities surrounding the award. I wasn't aware of the mistake until I received a letter from a disgruntled student from the University of South Carolina.

That initial mistake and the persistence of a certain young lady led to the invitation for me to deliver the Commencement speech. I knew you would be in the graduating class and the temptation to accept the invitation was incredibly hard to resist. But I knew that if I were to accept I had to give up on the pretence that I didn't know who you were."

Realizing what he had to say next, Christian stopped. There was no way he could maintain the business-like demeanour, the strict enumeration of facts. He put his cutlery down and leaned back against the couch until the silence brought a questioning look on Teddy's face.

"We look alike, Eddy. The resemblance, especially with my younger self, is unmistakable," he stated, addressing the elephant that had poked them with its trunk just a few minutes earlier.

Eddy's eyes didn't meet his. Instead they roamed over his face and he remained still allowing the frank inspection.

"Ana would have known that I would recognize you," he spelled out the logical conclusion.

As Eddy's eyes finally met his he continued: "I started to think that perhaps it was time. That I should let her know that I have found the two of you and ask if you would be willing to meet me. At the very least I had to make a decision on when to do that."

Again Christian was faced with a decision to make. If there was a lesson to be learned from his private life was to not let others make the decisions for him, and he had not promised not to tell, just to wait before he sent the cheque. With a long look at the meal still only half eaten in front of him he sighed and pushed the plate aside: "When you were born we set up a trust fund for you. You were meant to start getting money out of it when you turned twenty-one or the Monday after your graduation, whichever came last. In December I received a letter from the fund manager reminding me that the fund will mature in May."

A hint of colour raised in Eddy's cheeks as he admitted: "Mom told us she set up some trust funds."

"She did?"

"Yes, she…" Eddy frowned: "She said it was her money," he explained and the blush grew deeper.

"Eddy…" Christian leaned forward and placed his forearms on the table, the fingers of his hands interlaced and resting on the white table cloth. "I believe what you are referring to is that Ana has placed some of her money in one or several trust funds."

"One for each of us, yes."

"I'm afraid that I am talking about something else, a different fund, one that we set up for you together."

And there, wrapped up in one sentence were the two subjects that he had no idea how to approach: the fortune of his estranged father and what he now knew was a reluctant divorce from his mother. Both Christian and his mother had been quite obvious in pointing out that the other one was not at fault for their separation or for the fact that he had not met Christian until now. He had thought he understood why: his mother out of guilt that she had taken him away and in hope that he will agree to meet with his father, Christian out of guilt that he had not come forward sooner and not wanting to do any more damage to his life than his reappearance had already done. But there was something he couldn't quite put his finger on, that was off, and for some reason Christian's sentence had started the alarm bells ringing again.

"Obviously I have said something that has upset you," Christian interrupted his musings. "If it's the money, you don't have to be embarrassed about it and I hope that you will use it. Regardless of any relationship we will be able to build from here on, you are my son."

"You have a daughter," Eddy pointed out, the words out of his mouth while his mind was still busy trying to solve the puzzle of his parents' behaviour.

"Yes, I do, and she also has a trust fund, identical to yours."

"I have delayed the first payment by a month," Christian continued as the silence grew in the small lounge. "If you need more time, I can delay it again, but…Money needs to be used. You don't have to do that immediately. You can sit on it for a while, figure out how you want to use it, but when the cheque arrives, I think you should cash it."

Eddy got a sense that this was no longer his estranged father speaking but the business genius. The realization brought him back to the here and now and the subject under discussion. He was getting business advice from Christian Grey…who was his father. There was no escaping the circular logic, and he had a feeling that he was not going to be able to distance himself from the reality of just who his father was. Still, he was not ready and taking money from him didn't feel right.

"Can I think about this for a while? I …I don't think I am quite ready to do that yet."

Christian had watched the frown of concentration carve a line between Teddy's eyebrows and he refrained from sighing: this was Ana all over again. Time to test if he had learned that lesson and could handle the situation better than he had with her: "Of course you can. But when you are considering your options, please include the fact that, regardless of your decision, the money is no longer mine. The terms of the fund are unequivocal: you can use the allowance you will receive for any purpose you see fit or you can leave them where they are, but nobody else aside of you can touch them. Also, I would like to give you the details of the fund manager."

He knew the more experienced man had somehow gained an advantage here, but at a loss of what else to do Eddy nodded: "Ok, thank you. I'll really think about it."

"Let's reheat these and finish our meal. We are probably far enough now that we can drop anchor for a while," Christian said, once again all business.

AN: I don't want to make promises I can't keep so part two will most likely be next Saturday…