Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. I've had technical issues since late last week uploading documents. Many thanks to those on facebook for your assistance and suggestions.

CHPT 2: Christian's POV

"FUCK!" I scream as I slam down my phone on the receiver. I have been working 14 and 16 hour days for the past month trying to finish a deal with a local company to take over a publishing company and they seem to keep delaying the inevitable. I don't understand why they are trying to delay the sale of the company. If they don't sale the company will fold in less than a year. If they sell, with Grey Enterprise's assistance they will not only stay afloat but likely become one of the leading publishers in all of Seattle.

"Andrea!" I yell to my assistant.

"Yes, Mr. Grey?" Andrea says as she quickly enters my office.

"I'm going out to pick up lunch," I inform her.

"Uh….Mr. Grey I would be more than happy to pick something up for you or have something delivered," she says, obviously surprised as I never pick up my own lunch. Either Gail, my housekeeper, sends something or I have Andrea order something ahead of time.

"No, I need to get out of the office for a few minutes. I am capable of picking up my own lunch," I snap.

"Of course Mr. Grey; I'm sorry," she mummers while looking at her hands.

"Please hold my calls until I return," I state and walk out.

I don't give Andrea a chance to respond before I walk out and head to the elevator. I need to get out of this office before I fire someone who I actually need. The elevator ride is quick and I exit the lobby without paying attention to anyone or anything. I start walking with no destination in mind; I just need to clear my head. I've walked a few blocks before realizing I neglected to inform Taylor I left the building. No doubt by this time he has been alerted to my departure, but none the less I pull out my blackberry and begin typing him an email.

To: Jason Taylor

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Lunch

I have stepped out to find some lunch. I doubt I will be in serious danger walking down the sidewalk.

Christian Grey,

CEO Grey Enterprises

I probably shouldn't give a fuck about notifying Taylor but…

WAM!

All of a sudden I walk into what feels like a wall. I quickly glance up to see I walked right into someone. My instincts kick in just as she is about to fall and I reach my arm around her waist pulling her into me. I hold her steady for a minute before looking down to insure she is okay. When she looks up her eyes look right into mine and it's as if she can see right through me. We stand like that for a moment or two before I realize her hand is in the middle of my chest. How did I fail to realize this? I avoid anyone touching my chest because it usually causes such severe physical and emotional pain. With her there was nothing; hell I didn't even realize she was touching me for several minutes.

I make sure she is not injured before guiding her over to a nearby bench so she can catch her breath. We make small chat with each other and it feels strangely comfortable to just sit and talk with her. She's not like other women who throw themselves at me or can't form a sentence because they are too stunned by my looks. I know that sounds conceited but it's true. I'm a very good looking man but what everyone fails to realize is it's just a face.

My phone suddenly rings, glancing down I see that it's Taylor so I hit the silence button. He's probably wondering where I am but right now I don't want to be disturbed. I'm enjoying spending time with the beautiful woman and forgetting even for just a few minutes the difficult publishing company. Suddenly, she is saying she needs to leave as she has to get to work. She jokes about losing her dinner which I quickly see has been stepped on by several people who were walking by not watching where they were going. I surprise myself by offering to take her to dinner; I can't remember the last time I offered to take a woman to dinner who was not a current sub, family member or business associate. She declines my offer, however after some additional discussion agrees to take money so she can purchase dinner while she is working.

We part ways and say goodbye heading in opposite directions. I walk a few feet, turn around and watch her walk away until I can no longer see her in the crowd. It's only at this time do I realize I don't even know this beautiful woman's name.

Ana's POV:

The shift at the restaurant flies by and before I realize it my shift is over. I spent the entire shift replaying the meeting with the gorgeous stranger in mind. I have continuously kicked myself for not asking his name or at least introducing myself. After much internal discussion, I have decided to let fate take over and wait to see if we will meet again. The likelihood of our paths crossing again are very slim, but if the universe wanted us to meet again we will. I long ago gave up hoping for good things to happen to me and have instead learned to just live day by day and let what happens happen. Hoping for things to happen will only lead to disappointment as I learned all those years living with my mother and her many different boyfriends.

The next few days are the same and I don't see my gorgeous stranger, although I find myself walking the same path from college to the restaurant. A couple times I have even stopped at the bench, sat down and watched people walk by just to see if he would happen to walk by at the same time. Of course he doesn't walk by and life goes on.

"Ana!" Kate calls for me just as second class is ending.

"Hey Kate! What's up?" I ask.

"Are we still on for tomorrow night?" She asks, obviously thinking I have changed my mind or I need to work.

"Of course! How does movie and pizza sound?" I ask, trying to avoid going to the dance club.

"I will make you a deal," Kate says.

Uh oh, I think to myself. This can't be good.

"Movie and pizza this weekend but in two weeks we go to the club. How's that sound?" She asks.

"I suppose that's fine," I answer; Kate knows how to get what she wants so there's no chance of getting out of going to the club.

"Great! I'll see you tomorrow around 3?" Kate asks

"Sounds good!" I respond and head to my next class.

My shift that night drags on and maybe it's just me but the customers seem more cranky than usual. I have been a waitress at this restaurant for 5 years now and I love the people I work with but sometimes the customers can be a little much to handle. It's a very high end, well known Italian restaurant in the Seattle area and the meals are not cheap to say the least. Our appetizers start at just over $30 and entrees easily double that. Working in such a high end restaurant typically means the customers tip very well since they are not the type to worry about spending money. The downside is that sometimes these customers can be very demanding and often feel entitled.

Tonight was one of those nights with several demanding customers. One customer it just seemed like there was no pleasing her no matter what I did. I could tell the moment she walked in she would be a difficult customer.

"Good Evening, can I start you off with some drinks?" I ask.

"I want a glass of water with 4 ice cubs and a slice of lemon. When you bring my entre I want a glass of white wine (think something expensive-I know nothing about wine!)" answers the older bleach blond lady.

"I'll have a beer please" answers her much younger male friend.

"Of course, I will be right back with your drinks and will then take your order" I respond.

"No. We will order now and then you will get our drinks. I don't have all night to wait for you to come back from your break before taking my order" says the bleach blond.

"Of course, would you like an appetizer to start?" I asking, counting silently to 10 so I don't snap at this lady who has had clearly too much Botox done.

"We will take your fried calamari appetizer, lobster bisque soup and a garden salad with dressing on the side. Do not put dressing on the salad. For the entre, I will have the stuffed chicken breast over rice pilaf and mixed vegetables. He will have New York Strip steak cooked medium well, seasoned mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables" states the bleach blond.

"Of course. I will be back shortly with your drinks" I respond putting away my notepad and taking their menus.

"Don't wait until after your break to bring drinks or to place my order. I don't have all night," states the blond bitch.

"Yes ma'am," I respond and quickly walk into the kitchen.

"Hi Ana! How's it going this evening?" asks Antonio the owner.

"It's going well Antonio, thank you for asking. How are the kids?" I ask politely. I decide against telling him about this customer as I don't want to appear to be complaining.

"They are doing so good in school and getting so big!" Antonio responds before excusing himself to take a call.

I place the order with the chef and the bartender before returning to the kitchen to get the glass of water for the bleach blond bitch. The bartender is a little backed up so I check on two of my other tables before returning for the water and beer.

"Excuse me….your drinks" I state gently setting the drinks on the table.

"It's about time" mumbles the blond bitch before returning to her conversation with the young gentleman. "You may go now" she states.

UGH! I think to myself as I head back to the kitchen. This is the downside of working in an establishment like this. This woman clearly knows what she wants and expects everyone to jump when she says so. Seeing people like her though make me realize that money can buy many things but it cannot buy happiness. I have seen many unhappy people drop hundreds of dollars on dinner and drinks.

"Excuse me….here are your dishes" I again interrupt the conversation between Ms. Bitch and her friend. I set the food down in front of them and place Ms. Bitch's wine in front of her having made sure to pick it up on my way to the table with the food.

"You may go" she again responds without evening looking up.

I check on them a few more times during the evening and Ms. Bitch doesn't have any new demands. She asked for more wine and more water while her friend asked for another beer. They finish their meal and spend a significant amount of time talking. I see her occasionally reach under the table and run his thigh, occasionally getting slightly inappropriate. She seems so much older than her companion, I can't imagine what he sees in her!

"Excuse me…would you be interested in hearing about our desert specials this evening?" I ask.

"Of course…that's your job isn't it?" Ms. Bitch responds.

I silently count to 10 before listing the desert specials, after which Ms. Bitch and her friend decline to place an additional order. I prepare the bill and leave it on the table for them before checking on the remainder of my tables. When I return to the table, Ms. Bitch and her friend are gone having left cash in the bill holder. I take it up to the bartender who hands me back $0.97 which apparently is the only tip I'm getting from that table tonight. Luckily my other tables tipped well this evening I think as I punch out and begin my walk to the bus stop to head home.