Hello Lovelies,

I hope you're all well and keeping safe!

As always I hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming soon!

Much Love and Stay Safe,

Chelsea x


DoloresDeeHowe - Thank you! I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

SuzB - Thank you! Ana has made a lot of progress, but I think getting the chance to talk to Carla will only serve to help her in her recovery. I have a feeling it will work out in her favour! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

Jeangb - Thank you! I think you might be right about Carla, she strikes me as a woman always on the lookout for something better than what she already has. It'll be interesting to see how things develop! Much Love x

B - Thank you! I'm really glad you enjoying this story. That's great to hear! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

Paula White - Thank you! I hope you like this update! Much Love x


Two weeks had passed since I sent that late-night text message to my mother and I still hadn't received a reply.

I can't even admit to myself whether I was expecting a response or not. I think a part of me sent the message to clear my conscience, to show that I am the bigger person in all of this. I know deep in my heart I did nothing wrong, but still I wanted to hold my hands up and be able to say I tried.

It would have been nice to receive some kind of acknowledgement though.

Ray told me I should give her more time to respond. He suggested that maybe something was wrong on her side, that perhaps she is extremely busy. Doing what exactly, I wasn't sure. My mother isn't known for her work ethic.

Kate urged me to block her number and give up the ghost, drawing on her own experiences with her mom. She had cut her entire family out of her life and was coping just fine with me, Christian and Elliot fighting her corner. She seemed much happier this way.

Christian, however, was more objective with his advice. In fact, he didn't bother to give me any. He sat back and listened to me talk about my mother, allowing me to get whatever I had to say off my chest.

He called me brave for making the first move.

He understood the pain of being rejected by your own mother.

While I wasn't on tenterhooks waiting for a reply, I was more than a little unnerved by her continued radio silence. I had questions I wanted to ask, things I wanted to tell her. I didn't want to start World War Three, but I did want to confront her about her actions and behaviour. I wanted her to know how it made me feel.

Is it really possible she is still mad about the whole thing? That she can't bury the hatchet long enough to send a quick text?

I toyed with my phone, spinning it around between my finger and thumb. There was no chance of me getting any work done today. At least I was at home, though, instead of in the office and under prying eyes.

I had opted to spend the rest of the day working from home, having taken an hour out this morning for my routine dental check. Christian had followed suit, first accompanying me to my appointment and then working from his home office thereafter. I was eager to accept his offer to come with me to the appointment. I bloody hate going to the dentist. There's something so unnatural and invasive about having someone poke around inside your mouth. I would rather have a pap smear any day! And that's saying something.

I had turned the library into my own workspace, moving a couple of things around to include the mammoth-sized copy machine I asked to be installed.

My desk faced the door, a request from Christian.

His office was directly across from mine, the doors matching up perfectly on either side of the hallway. With both doors open, we could see each other working from our respective desks. Weirdly, it wasn't a distraction having him in such close proximity, not like it has been whenever he has come to SIP to work from my office there. At home, we know our boundaries. That is his space, this is mine. We work, but we don't ignore each other. Occasionally, I'll look up and catch his eye, earning myself a soft smile and wave.

I peeked up at him now and watched as he wrote something down on the notepad by his computer.

I recalled what he said about his own mother. After everything, he would still want to talk to her. It amazed me to hear him say that. The courage it would take to face the person who brought so much pain into your life. Now that's bravery.

Spinning my phone back to the right way up, I reopened my messages and started typing a new text.

I'm not sure if you got my last text or if you're simply ignoring me, but I thought I would give it one last shot. If you want to talk, you know how to reach me. If not, that's fine too, but at least have the decency to tell me. Ana.

I pressed send and dropped the phone onto my desk. I flopped back in my seat and stared out of the door. Christian was now on a call, muttering something fast, barely coming up for air.

Buzz. Buzz.

My eyes lowered to my phone, my stomach lurching as it rattled against the white-washed wood. Tentatively, I reached out and turned it over, checking the notification.

1 New Text.

She had replied.

Hi. I would like to talk. You're right. It is time we discussed everything.

I had only just finished reading her reply when another message appeared underneath it.

I'm glad you contacted me.

No explanations. No mention of her delay. Nothing to suggest her silence was out of the ordinary or even worth acknowledging.

I thought you were ignoring me.

I was thinking it over.

Right.

She's still pissed off then, I thought to myself.

And now you have decided you do want to talk?

Yes, I have.

When? Soon?

Soon. I think it would be good for us to clear the air sooner rather than later. It's already been too long.

I can call you now, if you're free?

The fast pace of her replies suddenly came to a halt, almost ten minutes passing before her next message arrived.

I can't talk right now.

Okay. How about later? I can call you this evening if that's better?

I think it would be best for us to talk in person. Meet face to face. What do you think?

My stomach flipped again.

Admittedly, my mother had never been a fan of talking on the phone, always preferring to chat in person, but I wasn't sure if I was quite ready to see her in the flesh again.

Would you come here to see me? I'm in Seattle now. I moved here after college.

I know. Ray told us. No, I was thinking you could come visit me. It would be nice to have you here.

My lips parted, my jaw hanging open.

I know Bob would like to see you again.

I glanced up from my phone at the sound of footsteps.

Christian crossed the threshold into my office and sauntered over to my desk.

"My mom finally replied," I announced. His brows shot high up his forehead. "I know… I'm shocked too."

"What has she said?"

"She wants to talk," I nodded.

"That's good," he hummed, offering a smile. He perched himself on the edge of my desk. "At least she's being receptive."

"One downside," I droned, narrowing my eyes. "She thinks we should talk in person."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"In Georgia," I added. His lips immediately pressed into a hard line. "She wants me to fly out there to see her."

He didn't say anything. He stared at me, deep in thought.

"I haven't given her an answer yet," I explained. "I'm going to think it over. I need to think it over."

"Okay."

"I mean, I haven't spoken to her in what... over a year? I think we should talk more first, at least via text or Facetime or something."

"I agree," he nodded. He reached out with his hand and gave my shoulder a tight squeeze. "You should break the ice a bit more first. I can understand why she wants you over there, though."

"You do?" I frowned

"She'll be on home turf," he said. "It'll give her the upper hand."

"I guess…" I peeked down at my phone. "If I do decide to fly out there, what –"

"I'll arrange everything for us. Flights, accommodation…" he interrupted, sensing exactly what I was going to ask. "You won't have to face her alone. I'll be right there with you, if that's what you want."

"It is," I nodded, eagerly. "At least until I know a war isn't going to break out between us."

His hand slipped down the length of my arm and scooped up my hand. He brought it to his mouth and pressed a tender kiss to the back of my fingers.

"Are you happier now she's responded?" he checked.

"I'm not sure happy is the right word for it," I shrugged. "Kinda relieved. I told her that even if she didn't want to talk, she should at least tell me. It's just plain rude to ignore people."

"Especially your own child," he added on a huff. He shook his head and sighed. "Anyway… I'm about to grab some lunch. Are you going to join me?"

"Yeah, let me save this memo first –"

Before I could move, Christian leaned forward and stole a glance at my screen.

As he read the email Mark had sent over moments earlier, he slipped off the desk and moved to stand at my side.

His expression hardened as he scoured the message.

It was an update about the sale of SIP. The consolidators had contacted Mark and several others to reiterate the concern that a buyer had yet to be found. So far there had been no interest in the company, despite efforts to bring investors on board. I knew Mark had personally reached out to several people in the hopes of rousing interest, but to no success. While there was still time left on the clock, the suits want to start listing assets that can be sold if we pass the deadline.

"SIP is up for sale?" Christian asked, shooting me a quick stare. His eyes were pinpoint and dark.

"You didn't know?" I whispered.

I had wondered if he'd already heard the news on the grapevine and hadn't disclosed it to me, unsure if I knew or not.

He shook his head.

"Publishing isn't on my radar," he muttered. "How long have you known?"

"A couple of weeks," I grimaced. I spun my chair to the side so I could face him properly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I couldn't seem to find the right time to sit down and discuss it with you."

In an instant, his expression softened.

"Why are you apologising?" he sighed. He pulled my hand back up to his mouth. "Don't be sorry."

"You're not mad at me?"

"No," he snorted. "No, baby… So, what's happened? Why is Savidge selling?"

"Mr Savidge passed away," I said. "His wife is trying to get rid of the business. She clearly sees it as a noose around her neck."

"And what's all this talk about selling assets?"

"If the company isn't sold by the end of November, they will start selling off whatever they can to reduce costs," I explained. "They have already brought consolidators in. There's talk about laying people off…"

His brows furrowed, knitting together in the middle of his forehead.

"Is that bothering you?" he asked. "Are you worried about the possibility of losing your job?"

I slowly nodded.

"Oh Ana…" he sighed deeply. He dropped to a crouch in front of me, his hands curling around my knees as he balanced himself. He stared up at me. "You should have told me. I hate the idea of you stressing yourself out."

"It's okay," I shrugged, managing a weak smile. "I'm trying to stay positive."

"You love your job," he muttered.

"I do," I nodded. I inhaled a sharp breath. "But there's still a chance someone will take a serious interest in SIP and want to snap it up."

I wondered if this would be the moment he would slip into business mode, donning his armour and waving a blank check.

I studied him, waiting to see if I could spot dollar signs flickering in his eyes.

"I'm sure there must be another nerd out there like Savidge who will want to invest in the place," he quipped. "He can't be the only one."

"I hope he's not!"

"If the deadline is late November, there's still plenty of time. There's no need to worry yet."

"I suppose not."

"In the meantime, however, you should talk to me if you're feeling worried or stressed," he urged, pressing his fingertips deep into the flesh above my knees. "Don't bottle anything up. Please?"

"I won't," I shook my head. "I just didn't want to dump this on you. I found out on your birth mother's birthday."

His lips parted into an O-shape, a look of realisation spreading between his eyes.

He nodded.

"I appreciate you putting me first," he said. "But don't feel like you can't talk to me. I'm a big boy. I can handle your problems as well as my own."

My shoulders lowered with relief. The ease of the conversation was unexpected and very much welcome. I had been bracing myself for an argument.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"Well…" I hummed, tilting my head to the side. "I'm having some problems with a couple of people at work."

"What kind of problems?"

"Since the announcement about Mr Savidge, there's been some whispering behind my back," I began. "Dirty looks, certain people not wanting to talk to me. That kind of thing."

"Why?" he frowned. "Why would they do that?"

"They think my job is safe because of you," I admitted on a sigh. "Because of who you are. Apparently, no one would dream of firing Christian Grey's significant other. As long as I'm in your pocket, I'm untouchable."

He paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side.

"Is that why you were freaking out about me turning up at your office?" he guessed.

I nodded again.

"Jesus… Ana, I'm sorry. The last thing I would want is to cause problems for you –"

"I know," I smiled. I cupped his cheek with my right hand. "It's petty, childish behaviour. I'm trying not to let it get to me. It still sucks though, having people talk about you behind your back."

"It does if you care what other people think of you," he added, giving me a knowing look.

"I'm not you," I shook my head. "I inherently want to be liked because I like to think I'm a good person."

"You are a good person," he grinned. "You're my favourite person."

He turned his face into my hand and kissed my palm.

"Have you spoken to Mark about what's happening?" he asked.

"No, I haven't. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"I kinda see that as a last resort," I shrugged. "I want to see if I can handle it on my own first. I think I might approach the ring leader myself. Talk to her about what's going on."

"Try to nip it in the bud?"

"Exactly," I nodded. "We're all adults. I don't need them to be my best friends – or even a friend, for that matter – but I do want to be civil and get along with my co-workers. It'll make life easier in the long run."

"Still consider talking to Mark about it," Christian suggested. "He'll want to know if something is going on. I would want to know if any of my employees were having issues with each other."

"Really?" I questioned. "You'd actually care about that sort of thing?"

He nodded. "If they're too busy bitching at each other, they're not getting their work done. When they're at work, they are there to work. If I have to step in and say something, I will."

"Even if they are just juniors or interns?"

"There's no just involved," he shook his head. "No one is just anything if they work for me. It doesn't matter if they are an intern, an MD or a cleaner… they all matter and are important."

I smiled at his response.

"That's why I love you," I mumbled. I leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips. "Thank you."

"For what?" he smirked, his lips curling under my own.

"For being you," I laughed. "And for listening to me. I will talk to Mark if I don't get anywhere with my co-worker."

"Good," he nodded. "Now, then, what do you want for lunch? I'm in the mood for a BLT sub."

"That sounds great," I smiled.

He kissed me once more and then pushed to his feet, turning on his heels and exiting my office. He rounded the corner, heading for the kitchen.

I slumped back in my seat and blew out a long breath.

Well, that was unexpected!

I was ready for a full Christian backlash over not talking to him sooner, to be swiftly followed by the flash of his credit card and promises to solve all of SIP's problems in one swipe.

I knew that Christian could easily save SIP and my job in the process, but I had fought hard to separate my personal and professional lives. I needed a distinction between them. I don't want to be known as only his other half, a trophy wife who swans around in one of his businesses acting like she owns the place.

I want to earn my stripes, like he has. I want to pay my own way in this world.

At the same time, though, I wasn't entirely dismissive at the idea of his involvement. If I had to, I would consider that as an option.

I have battled long and hard for my job and I'll be damned if I am going to lose it, regardless of what people have to say. I've fought before, and I'm prepared to fight again.


The following morning I was back at work and sat at my desk, toying with my fingers, preparing myself to talk to Maria. I had rehearsed exactly what I planned on saying to her, made mental notes of everything I wanted to cover.

I had just called her in, but she was taking her sweet time in actually joining me. I watched her through my glass windows, seeing her sashay around her desk, laughing with her nearest colleagues. Not a care in the world.

"Yes?" she huffed as she finally reached my doorway. She tossed her short bob back from her face and pushed her too-large glasses up her nose. "What do you want to see me about?"

"Come in," I prompted her.

She quickly shot a glance towards Jaz, who was sat in her usual corner.

"Jaz," I said. She looked across to me. "Would you mind giving us a minute alone?"

"Sure," Jaz shrugged.

She rose from her chair and skirted around Maria, but not before sizing her up on her way past. I was sure I heard the word 'trash' escape Jaz's lips.

Maria scowled and abruptly closed the door behind Jaz, eventually leaving the doorway and taking a seat opposite me. She crossed her legs and folded her arms, immediately on the defensive.

"Well?" she grunted. "I'm busy, so can we cut to the chase? Why am I here?"

"I wanted to discuss a few things with you," I began, trying hard to keep my voice calm and steady. "Mainly about the way you have been behaving towards me lately."

"What?"

"I've noticed a distinct shift in the way you have spoken to me," I continued. "You have been rude and snappy, and I have seen you talking about me to other people in the building."

She shifted her gaze away from mine, tutting quietly to herself.

"You really think I've got time to sit around talking about you?" she snorted. "Believe me, I wouldn't waste my time."

"That's a lie and we both know it," I shot back. The temperature in the room was starting to rise, I could feel it at the back of my neck. "I have heard you and I have seen you. You have been spreading rumours about me."

"Like what?" she shrugged. "What have I supposedly said?"

"Quit playing the dumb blonde," I shook my head. "It doesn't suit you."

"Stop acting like my boss," she returned with a harsh note to her voice. "In case you hadn't realised, we're on the same level. You can't pull rank with me."

I clenched my jaw.

"I'm asking you to stop talking about me," I sighed. "To stop spreading untruths."

"You didn't answer me," she said. "What have I supposedly said about you that's untrue?"

"That my fiancé got me this job," I reeled off. "That I've somehow bribed my way into this position. That I'm sucking up to Mark as a way of furthering myself."

She cocked her head to the side.

"What's untrue about any of that?" she asked, pursing her lips. "Everyone knows you're vastly unqualified for this job. The only way you could have gotten it is with a helping hand."

"Excuse me?" I jerked my head back. "That's not true. You can ask Mark."

"Why would I ask him?" she frowned. "He's so far up your ass, I don't know where you end and he begins."

She leaned forward and placed her forearms on the desk.

"You see, Ana, I'm just making sure everyone here sees you for who you are," she whispered. I could barely hear her over the blood pumping in my ears. "You know what we call you? Cuckoo… You're only here because you fluttered your eyelashes and got your perfect boyfriend to make a few calls. The only qualification that got you this job is your ability to drop to your knees and suck –"

I jumped to my feet and slammed my hands down on my desk. She startled, reeling back into her seat.

"How dare you!" I growled. "What gives you the right to come in here and talk to me like that?"

"You can't pull the wool over my eyes," she continued, her mouth curling into a sly smirk. "I won't rest until everyone sees you for the snake you are."

"You're pathetic, you know that?" I shook my head. A laugh escaped me. "You're really going to spend your time acting like a little bitch? I asked you in here to try and resolve whatever animosity there is between us, because all I want is to get on with my job. I don't want to get caught up in office wars."

"Oh there's no war, sweetie," she laughed. She rose from her chair and straightened down her dress. "And even if there was one, I'd win. You're no match for me, honey."

"Yeah, a woman once said that to me," I snorted. "She was dead less than an hour later."

"Is that a threat?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"If it was, you wouldn't need to ask," I retorted. "Now get the hell out of my office."

She scanned me up and down and sucked her teeth. I glared at her until she made her way out onto the floor again.

I walked to my door and took a single step outside. Eyes were quickly turning towards me, beady stares keen to find out what had happened.

"Don't think for a second I'm clueless as to what's going on here," I called out to everyone within earshot. "Quite frankly, I think it's disgraceful that a bunch of adults have resorted to sneaky whispering and snide comments. Over the past week, I have seen a lot of you turn your back on me and ignore me, all because Maria here has got under your skin."

"Don't flatter yourself," Maria chided.

"You can shut the fuck up," I shouted. In the corner of my eye I saw Mark step out of his office, but there was no stopping me. "I've heard more than enough from you today… As for the rest of you, I have been nothing but nice to you. I have gone out of my way to impress you, show you that I'm worthy of my role here."

Some of my listeners averted their eyes, their faces turning red.

"Why did I bother?" I shook my head. I tutted under my breath. "The gloves are off now. I'm done being nice to people who blatantly don't deserve it. I'm nobody's doormat. If you've got something to say, come say it to my face. Better yet, grow up and act your fucking ages."

I spun around and slammed my door shut. The sound cut through the air, making my ears thud.

I stomped around my desk and dropped back into my chair, my head plummeting into my hands. I was shaking, adrenaline surging through me like a bolt of lightning.

What the hell had just come over me?

A ping pierced the air and I gingerly lifted my head to see a new email flashing at me.

My gut twisted as I saw Mark's name in bold letters.


From: Mark Griffin

To: Anastasia Steele

Date: 3 October 2012 10:13

Subject: WTF?

What was that all about?


I fired back a quick response, outlining the bare bones of the Maria problem.


From: Mark Griffin

To: Anastasia Steele

Date: 3 October 2012 10:17

Subject: WTF?

I had no idea. I've heard nothing about it.

Are you OK?


From: Anastasia Steele

To: Mark Griffin

Date: 3 October 2012 10:19

Subject: WTF?

Yeah, I'm fine. Still bristling with anger, but otherwise okay.

Sorry for causing a scene.

And sorry for cursing.

It won't happen again. I promise.


From: Mark Griffin

To: Anastasia Steele

Date: 3 October 2012 10:25

Subject: WTF?

First of all, I'm glad you're OK. If you need five minutes or an extended lunch to calm down, feel free to take it.

Second, do not fucking apologise. You seriously need to stop saying sorry all the time!

That is what I've wanted to see from you since day one. A little bit of feistiness. A serious backbone. The ability to face people head on and speak your mind. They are all the qualities of management. If you want to progress in this game, you have to know how to speak up.

It's good to see you standing on your own two feet and tackling this head on.

You should be proud of yourself. I'm proud of you.

PS – for the record, in case HR come sniffing, I am obliged to tell you that you should refrain from telling co-workers to 'shut the fuck up'. It isn't professional and blah blah blah… ;)


I smile at his added message.


From: Anastasia Steele

To: Mark Griffin

Date: 3 October 2012 10:26

Subject: WTF?

Yes, boss.


As I rolled my chair away from my desk and turned to face the window displaying a perfect view of Grey House, I realised something.

I do know where that outburst came from.

That was pure Christian Grey.

His confidence must be rubbing off on me.

And about fucking time too…