Ch. 2
I unlocked the door of my and Kate's apartment and came in.
"Ana? Was there an accident or something? You should have been back an hour ago," Kate asked, looking up from the couch. As I'd expected, there was a large pile of used tissues on the table next to her.
"Christian ended up canceling his next appointment just so we could keep talking," I answered.
"Christian?! You're on a first-name basis with a billionaire?" Kate asked in shock.
"I seemed to impress him. Hand me your laptop, I'll just transcribe the whole thing and you can read it line for line. We ended up speaking French for half of the conversation, so it'll be faster if I do it than you listening to the recording," I explained.
She handed me the portable computer and I opened a blank document. I mentally rewound to the moment I turned on the recorder and wrote down our whole dialogue. I reached the point where I turned off the recorder and decided to keep going up until Christian handed me his card. That done, I handed the laptop back to Kate and let her read.
Kate read through the whole thing at lightning speed, her eyebrows steadily rising. "He asked you out?!" she gasped about halfway through.
"No, he said that if I asked him out, he might say yes," I corrected her.
"Same difference!" she waved off. "Tell me you jumped on that!"
"Keep reading," I groaned, knowing she'd never let this go.
At the end, her jaw was so low it almost touched her boobs. "Holy fucking shit, he's going to hire you?!"
"So you see why we shouldn't start dating, that would just be awkward," I said.
"Oh, please, that whole stigma's dying out," Kate rolled her eyes.
"What about the Platinum Rule, though?" I fired back.
"Do NOT quote HIMYM to justify turning down a chance to date his Hotness Christian Grey, Ana!" Kate said before coughing. She was still sick with the flu.
"Look, it would never work out between us. He's used to casual hookups and never being seen in public with a girl, that's not my thing," I explained to her. I'd keep the secret of his BDSM lifestyle, especially how he was introduced to it, all to myself.
"Fine, shoot yourself in the foot when the most eligible bachelor in the state, if not the country, flirted with you," Kate rolled her eyes. "He's seriously going to pay for your grad school if you'll be his personal translator?"
"That's what he said. If my background check doesn't raise any red flags and he doesn't throw in a clause asking for my firstborn, I'll probably sign the contract they draw up on Saturday," I nodded.
"Wow. That's amazing, Ana!" Kate beamed.
We talked about my new job, which I noted with amusement had nothing to do with either of my majors, while Kate began to write the article over the interview. She gushed that I'd gotten a ton of good stuff, and teased me about the fact he was so forthcoming because he thought I was hot. I endured because I loved her like a sister and focused on my last few essays and assignments before finals started.
My phone beeped with a notification around 3 hours after I'd left Grey House. I pulled it out and saw I had a text from Christian. Did you get home okay? I read.
Yes, I did. Thank you for checking, it gives me faith that chivalry isn't as dead as I thought, I sent back.
Grace taught me to be a gentleman. He sent the text and I could practically hear his lofty tone.
Well, she clearly was a good teacher just as you were a good student. Thank you again for this incredible opportunity. I never imagined I would ever monetize my ability to pick up a foreign tongue in a few months of study, I sent back.
Thank you for brightening up my day. I was all prepared for a boring 15-minute interview and instead I met the most intelligent, insightful, beautiful woman it's been my pleasure to meet, he sent back.
He was calling me beautiful. Flirting or just an honest compliment? Neither would surprise me. I reminded myself he was off limits, he didn't believe in 'hearts and flowers' as he called it. You're too kind, I texted back.
"Who are you texting?" Kate asked, noticing I'd been staring at my phone for a full minute.
"It's him," I answered even as I got a new text. Don't think I forgot that program about the expiring food. Thank you again for the idea.
I'm equally touched and impressed that you felt the need to correct the issue as soon as I made you aware of it. Says a lot about your character. So you're not just a pretty face and a fat bank account after all like I was all prepared for, I sent back.
"You're texting THE Christian Grey? And he's texting back?" Kate asked like it was the President or a Hollywood actor. Actually, it might be easier to get their personal cell numbers than Christian's, he was practically antisocial in his privacy.
"At the moment," I confirmed as I got another text. Oh, Anastasia, I am FAR more than my looks or my money. And I find myself quite eager to show you.
My, Christian, how bold. Maybe we could get to know each other outside a scheduled meeting. The meeting on Saturday isn't until 3:00, want to get lunch or something beforehand? You know, as friends, I sent him. I wasn't flirting, I was trying to expand his social circle. From what I'd picked up, he was in desperate need of a true friend, and I was happy to volunteer.
Is that what we are, Anastasia? Friends? And here I thought you wanted to take me bowling, he sent back. Why did I get the sense he was disappointed?
Friends go bowling together. It wouldn't be smart for us to date, we're not each other's type after all, I got straight to the point.
What makes you so sure of that? He challenged me.
I debated how honest to be, and how much of what I'd picked up from his thoughts to use. I want to get a boyfriend I can introduce to my Dad one day. You won't even go out in public with your girlfriends, or whatever you call the women you have arrangements with. The two relationship styles are incompatible, I'm afraid.
Fair point well made, Miss Steele. But who's to say neither of us could change? It need not be an impasse. There might be a happy middle ground between what I'm used to and what you're looking for.
He was definitely flirting with me. Wow, I really had made an impression on him. I knew for a fact he hated compromise, yet that was exactly what he was offering here. I decided to feel him out. Give me a 'for instance'. How might I get romance and you get… whatever it is you want?
We have a very public lunch at a nice restaurant Saturday, though be warned that a paparazzi might take our photo and you'll be plastered over the Seattle Nooz or some other rag the next day. We have our meeting to discuss what I promise to be a very lucrative contract for your exceptional skills in service to GEH. And afterwards, I take you back to my penthouse and you can see exactly what it is I want us to explore together.
I had to reread the text three times before I was convinced I hadn't imagined it. Was he seriously going to show me his playroom after one date? Man, he really wanted me as his sub. Well, I could take a look, turn him down flat, he'd decide the 'hearts and flowers' approach wasn't worth it, and we could settle into being coworkers with hopefully minimal awkwardness.
Sounds like a plan. Okay, lunch, business, then a trip to Escala. I can't help but wonder what you're being so mysterious about. I sure hope you don't think I'll give it up after the first date, I'd hate it if you got that impression of me. I texted him.
We won't have sex at my place, I'm not quite so crass or have such a low opinion of you that I think you'd sleep with me on our second meeting. I just need to show you something to help you understand the exact nature of the kind of relationship I've enjoyed exclusively up until now he texted.
Exclusively? He'd been introduced to BDSM by Elena Lincoln, his mother's friend. If that was his FIRST relationship… how old had he been? I had a seriously bad feeling about this. I texted Looking forward. Now get back to work, I'd hate to be a distraction to your duties as master of the universe.
You're not a distraction, Anastasia. In fact, you're my new highest priority. Give Miss Kavanagh my best. After that, the messages stopped.
"He says he hopes you feel better," I told her.
"What was that whole little exchange about?" she asked with a knowing look.
"Apparently, we're having a first date before the meeting on Saturday," I said, going for nonchalance.
"Glory Hallelujah! Ana Steele is going on a date with a billionaire!" she crowed.
"It's just a first date, there's no guarantee there'll be a second," I sighed, knowing my words would go in one ear and out the other.
The rest of the week passed in a blur of class and work, and I worked out with Clayton's to have Saturday free so I could have my date, meeting, and then visit to Christian's playroom. Christian texted me every day to check in, and we both learned more about the other. He really was sweet and attentive, it was a real shame nothing would ever happen between us.
I woke up at 8:00 on Saturday and focused on getting as pretty as possible. I'd googled the restaurant Christian had made the reservation for, and I wanted to fit in. I borrowed a plum dress from Kate, combed out my hair of all tangles or knots so it hung straight, and touched up my face with cosmetics. Wanda was (briefly) out of the auto shop, so I loaded into my beloved bug at 10:00 and hoped I'd make it to the restaurant by 1:00.
I pulled into the parking lot and saw Christian waiting outside the entrance, a man with the air of ex-military about him standing attentively behind the young CEO's shoulder. Taylor, his bodyguard, I presumed.
I got out of Wanda's door and walked up to him. He saw me coming, and his face lit up. Then he seemed to look over my shoulder and paled.
"Hello, Christian," I grinned as I got close.
"Anastasia, is that your car?" he asked, indicating Wanda. His thoughts were filled with horror that the girl he had every intention of making his submissive was driving around in an old, rusty death trap.
"She's what I could afford for a first car, and she's still running at the moment so I stick with her," I shrugged. "Before you say anything, I know she's old and unsafe. But not all of us can afford to have a different car for every day of the week, Christian."
"Fair point, Miss Steele," he said. That was a phrase he used a lot with me. "This is Jason Taylor, my bodyguard and driver. He won't be dining with us, he just insisted on being with me while I waited for you."
"Ma'am," Taylor nodded respectfully. 'So, this is the girl who's had Mr. Grey tied up in knots all week. I certainly see the appeal, she's a vision,' he thought, but not in a gross way like when Christian and I first met. Just thinking I was a pretty girl who looked nice.
"Mr. Taylor, pleasure to meet you," I grinned at him. I focused back on Christian. "Well, shall we?"
He held the door for me and I walked into The Capital Grille. The Maitre'd recognized Christian on sight, though he eyed me with interest. I picked up from his thoughts that Christian often had power lunches here with Ros and other executives at GEH or other businesspeople, but I was an unknown. We got a two-person table by the window, and I noticed that the eyes of half the room were on us. Granted, Christian was the richest man in Seattle, but surely they could mind their own damn business, right?
"What would you recommend?" I asked as I scanned the menu.
"The clam chowder's good, I get it every time. As for entree, that depends on if you're getting a salad or a proper meal," Christian said, glancing at his menu before setting it down and focusing on me.
"I'll go for the filet mignon," I decided before setting my own menu down. "So, how have you been since Monday?"
"The usual 'master of the universe' thing," he chuckled, quoting one of my texts.
"So, you know all my deep, dark secrets now? I imagine you only hire the best, so Welch probably did everything short of hacking my phone and computer finding out everything about me," I joked.
"If it makes you feel better, he's that thorough with everyone," he shrugged. "You never mentioned you were a composer too," he said with a grin.
I blushed. "Well, like I said, I learned piano. Once I had a good idea of what all 88 notes sounded like, I just started imagining what they sounded like on other instruments. I got curious and found a synthesizer app that let me compose with all the major instruments. I'm guessing you found my Youtube page."
"You're quite talented, your music is so diverse and complex. I fell asleep on Thursday to 'Ana's Lullaby'. I actually slept through the night for once," Christian told me honestly.
"I'm touched," I grinned, pleased that one of my songs helped him with his insomnia.
The waiter came for our drink order. Christian ordered the wine, which I acknowledged he had more expertise at, and he took our menus. We got a bread basket and I slathered a slice of sourdough with butter. "So, anything else about my past you want to dig into?" I asked.
"Did you really solve a Millennium Prize Problem in high school?" Christian asked in disbelief.
I groaned and hung my head. "Should have left well enough alone. I was almost on freaking CNN! Can you imagine how horrifying that is for a shy wallflower like myself?"
"So you DID give an answer to the Riemann hypothesis in 11th grade?" Christian pressed.
"Well, they haven't disproven it yet," I sighed. "That fiasco is actually what firmed my resolve to just make an AI and have it solve all the unanswerable questions. I'm not cut out for celebrity status, even in just the academic world."
"Did you get the prize money?" he asked curiously.
"Yeah, and within an hour my mom had it transferred to an account in her name. She pissed it away in less than a year. Part of why we're not on the best terms," I told him.
He frowned. "That's wrong, did you sue?"
"The money was deposited into a joint account with her name on it, it was a dick move but perfectly legal," I shrugged. "Oh, well."
"So you're good with music, languages, math. Any other surprises I should know about?" he asked with a charming grin.
"You have no idea, but none I'm comfortable disclosing to you at present," I said. If Christian knew all the details of my freakishness besides just my brain, he'd run for the hills.
"Well, I'll be waiting," he said, intrigued more than anything.
Our soups arrived, and as Christian promised the clam chowder was exceptional. "So, have you had any contact with your family?" I asked. I'd reminded him during our daily texts that he should make time for his parents and siblings, appreciate them while he had them.
"Yes, actually. I'm going to family dinner tomorrow night for the first time in… longer than I'm proud of," Christian said. 'Grace was so fucking happy I agreed to come. But how can I look her in the eye after fucking her best friend for 6 years?' he thought to himself.
Six years?! What exactly had he and Elena Lincoln gotten up to together? I was truly concerned, and I decided that I was willing to use my active telepathy for once.
"I'm glad you invited me to lunch, Christian," I grinned, reaching out to lay a hand on his resting on the table. As our skin touched, I reached out and downloaded every thought he'd ever had. I carefully kept my face blank as I learned the horrors of his early childhood, how Elena had seduced him at the tender age of 15, and how he was still very much under her control, even if he didn't realize it. I also tried not to blush at the fact Christian had masturbated to vivid fantasies of me every night for the last week, and even dreamed about me.
"Thank you for agreeing to come," he grinned, turning his hand so he could hold mine in his.
It was a sweet, romantic moment, which was ruined for me by the fact that I knew this was doomed to fail. I pulled back my hand, and tried to ignore how much I missed the warmth and strength of his hand. "So, tell me about your father. We haven't really talked much about him."
"Carrick is a corporate lawyer, and one of the most generous men I've ever met. Things were tense for a while, he didn't take me dropping out of his alma mater well. But we're cordial now, though I haven't seen him since Thanksgiving. He's the one who got me into rowing crew in high school and college," Christian told me, reaching for his wine glass with the hand that had been holding mine to resist the urge to take mine back.
"What are Elliot and Mia like?" I asked. Family, that was a nice, safe first date topic, right?
"Elliot is a womanizing idiot, but you can't help but love him. He owns his own construction company. Mia is a sweet little thing, always so cheerful. Never EVER offer her a shopping spree, she could bankrupt even me if she were ever given free reign. She's studying cookery in France at the moment, though she's due to be back in a couple weeks," Christian answered.
Our entrees arrived. I hardly needed my knife to cut the steak, it was so tender. "What's your Dad, Ray, like?" Christian asked, turning the focus back on me.
"He's a cop in a small town, he falls asleep around beer 3 or 4 watching some form of sports every weeknight, and he worships on a fishing boat every Sunday. He's verbally constipated, if you ever get a full paragraph out of him then consider yourself blessed. He never got over my mom cheating on him and running away with husband number 3." I made a decision. "Since you'll be at graduation anyway to give the diplomas, you can meet him afterwards."
"I'd be delighted. Will your mother be there?" he asked, trying to hide his distaste but no one can hide anything from me.
"Her excuse for not paying a roundtrip plane ticket just to see me get two lambskins is that husband number 4 had a golfing accident. I technically didn't invite her in the first place. So no," I sighed.
"Pardon my language, but she sounds like a bit of a bitch," Christian frowned.
"No arguments here," I shrugged. "She's not quite a narcissist, but her happiness comes before mine, her own daughter's. She's a serial monogamist, it's only a matter of time before she gets bored of number 4 and goes on the hunt for number 5, possibly before the divorce is even final. And she's a reckless spender, I never had a vacation growing up because she could never resist spending all our savings on something she just 'had to have'."
"I get computer science if your goal is to make a self-aware program, but why psychology?" Christian asked.
"You're kidding, right? Psychology is the study of the human mind. As the only model of sapience we have, I need to know it inside and out if I'm going to translate its inner workings into code," I chuckled.
"Ah. Well, it does seem obvious when you put it like that," Christian grinned self-consciously.
"Have you noticed the girl with the telephoto lens parked in the parking lot stalking us?" I asked conversationally after I took a sip of the wine, which was quite excellent, actually.
"What?" Christian looked out the window and his sharp eyes spotted the paparazzi in her car. "Oh well, I knew this was a risk going into this. I warned you too."
"She doesn't know me from Eve, you're the one going to get all the heat when Grace and Carrick hear their recluse of a son was finally seen out on a date with a woman," I said teasingly.
"Oh, Lord, Grace will go nuts," Christian groaned. "I didn't think of that."
"Though on that topic, is this really the first 'first date' you've ever had?" I asked. I knew the answer from downloading his whole life's worth of memories, but I still felt like asking just to hear it from him.
"Not to put too fine a point on it, yes. When you see what I have to show you at Escala, you'll understand why I don't like being seen in public with the women I pick," he said, closing off as he thought of all the ways showing someone not in the scene his playroom could go.
We finished the meal and kept talking until 2:30, finishing off the whole bottle. He put two $100 bills on the table and escorted me out of the restaurant with a hand laid on my lower back. Even without my mind reading, I liked to think I would have known he was subtly claiming ownership of me to everyone watching.
"We can come back for your… car, why not just come to Grey House with me and Taylor?" Christian proposed.
"Subtle, Grey," I chuckled. "But sure."
Christian and I rode to Grey House in the back of a black SUV that Taylor drove. We parked in the Grey House garage and took the elevator to the 20th floor. The second the elevator doors closed on us, an electric charge seemed to fill the air. I was suddenly seized by the overwhelming impulse to turn and pull Christian down into a kiss. I resisted, but my resolve weakened dangerously when I heard the tone of Christian's thoughts.
I'd never been so grateful to hear an elevator door ding as ours opened to the lobby of the top floor. I stepped out of what I would forever regard from this point as a moving closet. Christian recovered from the sexual tension we'd just endured himself and led me to his office. He led me to the couches instead of his desk. He sat down next to me, slightly closer than was appropriate given this was a business meeting and the amount of room available. I couldn't bring myself to mind.
At this angle, I saw the wall the door shared and the paintings Christian had hung on the wall. "Trouton?" I asked knowingly. The piece was called 'Looking at the Overlooked', and I knew he had all 300 frames in storage somewhere.
"Yes, they are. I love how she makes the ordinary extraordinary," Christian grinned. I've impressed him again, which I knew was no mean feat but was happening semi-regularly in regards to myself.
"My friend, Jose, is a photographer, and a gallery agreed to show his work next month. He told me and Kate last night, he was so excited. You're free to come, if you'd like a little culture for the evening," I grinned.
"This Jose wouldn't happen to be one of the 5 men you've dated, would he?" Christian asked, and his jealousy would have been adorable if I didn't know he could and would go through with seeing Jose blacklisted by every business in the state if Christian didn't end up liking him.
"6, now, remember, and he is, actually. We met during orientation, turns out his father served with Ray during the Gulf War. I was all set for him being like the cousin I never had, but he wanted to give the boyfriend-girlfriend thing a try. We got to the third date, but I broke it off because he was upset I didn't conform to standard dating protocol," I admitted to my potential boss.
"I don't take your meaning," Christian told me.
"Apparently, the girl's supposed to put out after the third date, and I wasn't even ready to kiss him. As you can imagine, things didn't work out," I rolled my eyes.
"How boorish. And yet you're still friends?" Christian frowned.
"I let him down gently and we've been platonic ever since. Well, I've been platonic. Wouldn't surprise me if he's still carrying a torch, but I value his friendship too much to cut him out of my life entirely." I shrugged. "What can you do?"
"I see," Christian frowned.
At that moment, Ros let herself in. She was carrying a stapled contract in her hand. "Ana, welcome back to Grey House. Ready to get down to business?" the redhead grinned. She'd been thoroughly impressed by my background check.
"As I'll ever be," I nodded. I'd already read the damn thing when I touched Christian, and bless him but he'd gone a bit overboard in trying to entice me into his employment.
Ros handed the contract to Christian before sitting down on the opposite sofa. Christian turned it around and offered it to me. I read through the whole thing, making sure it was exactly as I 'remembered' from Christian's mind-file. I set it down on the table. "It's too much," I said firmly.
"First time I've heard someone complain about that," Ros snorted.
"How do you mean, Anastasia?" Christian asked, all ready to meet each protest I raised and crush it with all his considerable skill at negotiating.
"$1000 an hour, really? 100% overtime if I go over 40 hours a week? And that's net, not gross, I know it's standard GEH procedure to modify all salaries to reflect the taxes of the state of each worker," I explained myself.
"As Head Translator, you'll be going over and facilitating deals that could be worth hundreds of millions of dollars and thousands of jobs. I want you ambly compensated for your time and service," Christian said implacably.
"700 an hour and 50% overtime or I walk," I fired back.
"You'd seriously turn me down because I'm paying too much money?" Christian asked with a raised brow.
"In a word, yes. That much money for that little work would make me too uncomfortable," I told him plainly.
"... Deal," Christian conceded reluctantly.
Ros, looking like she was watching Wimbledon or something with how she looked between us, pulled out a pen and crossed out the relevant sections of the draft and filled in the new information.
"I don't need a signing bonus," I moved on to my next issue.
"Need, no. Want, maybe even then no, for whatever reason. But you're getting one, it's standard procedure. Welcoming you to the family, so to speak," Christian said firmly.
"I'm not a charity case, Christian," I frowned.
"The amount of money has nothing to do with your socioeconomic status growing up," he fired back.
"Did Gregory Farris get a quarter million just for agreeing to work for you?" I challenged.
"Gregory Farris was brought in to work on one deal. You'll be working on dozens during your time with us," Christian countered.
"Take out the moving expenses, Mr. Kavanagh was going to cover those anyway," I relented. I was about to get more money for signing my name on a dotted line than Ray got in a year. It hurt my head.
"Very well," Christian nodded, and Ros crossed out that section.
"I'll take the full medical coverage," I moved to the next point. I wasn't going to cut off my nose to spite my face, and Christian was being very generous. "Tuition costs too, that's what you promised from the start. But I draw the line at a company car."
"That's non-negotiable, I'm afraid," Christian said, his face hardening until a diamond might chip if it hit him.
"You really don't like Wanda, don't you?" I shook my head.
"You named that thing?" he asked incredulously.
"I get to pick the model, then. I'm not having you stick me in some million-dollar show car in a misguided attempt to impress me," I negotiated.
"So long as I'm allowed to veto your decision, and I insist that it has the best safety ratings," Christian allowed.
"Color's mine," I added.
"Very well," he nodded.
"A Covert Protection Officer?" I asked.
"Another non-negotiable," Christian stated.
"You really think any of your competitors would have me kidnapped or assassinated?" I asked incredulously.
"The business side is just one factor. There's also random predators on the street. And, if this relationship between us goes somewhere, you'll be drawn into the public eye. That attracts the crazies like flies to shit. I need you protected, Anastasia, for my own peace of mind if nothing else," Christian said, looking into my eyes.
"And knowing at all times where I am and who I'm with is just a handy fringe benefit?" I raised a brow.
"An unintended consequence, nothing more," he promised.
I admitted to myself that he had a point. And while I could be knifeproof and bulletproof for all I knew (I hadn't been masochistic enough to test just how far my durability went, after all), I would appreciate having paid security in case some sicko started stalking me on my way home after a night at the bar. "Do I get to pick him or her? Personal compatibility is important, if they're going to be paid to be my shadow I want us to get along."
"Of course," Christian nodded.
"Starting date of the 6th works out fine," I nodded, getting to the end. "And I'm fine with a non-compete agreement, translating isn't even what I really want to do for a living. But I want to see a copy of the NDA you expect me to sign."
Christian pulled out his phone and texted a command to Andrea. Not 2 minutes later, the blonde PA to the one of the richest men in America came in. She handed her boss the document, nodded politely to me and Ros, and went back to her job at her desk.
I read the thing. "This is airtight," I commented.
"As you know, I take my privacy and the welfare of my company very seriously," Christian shrugged.
"Okay, this all seems above board. Print out the revised contract and I'll sign it here and now," I said, allowing a grin to lift my lips.
It took 15 minutes for Ros to make the alterations to the draft and print out a copy, bringing it back to Christian's office. I signed and printed my name on the 'employee' line, Christian signed as employer, and Ros was a witness. I signed the NDA, and bada-boom, I was a GEH employee.
"Happy to have you on the team, Ana," Ros grinned, shaking my hand.
"Well, let's go pick out my bodyguard, I guess," I shrugged. I knew Christian would want to assign them to me as soon as possible, today even possibly.
We took the elevator down to the 2nd floor where Security was based, and luckily having Ros in the elevator with us toned down the weird electrical charge between me and Christian. Not completely, but it helped. I met with Welch, Christian's head of security, and he gave me a binder filled with the files of the available CPOs on staff. I picked Samantha Prescott, fresh out the Marines after two tours in Afghanistan. I managed to convince Christian that she wouldn't start shadowing me until I started working on June 6th.
That done, Christian helped me stand. "I think it's time I show you my home," he said, faking a grin while on the inside he was working himself into knots. He hadn't connected the dots that I was still a virgin, assuming I'd given it up to one of the other 5 guys because there was no way a girl as 'enchanting' as me could be a virgin at 21. But he knew I was inexperienced, and he was about to show me his playroom.
"Sure, Christian," I nodded.
Taylor drove us to Escala. We parked in one of the many 'reserved for penthouse' spots and I noted with amusement the many sports cars that occupied the others. Boys and their toys, really. Christian and I took the elevator alone up to the top floor, and that damn electric charge came back.
I distinctly heard Christian growl "Fuck it," and then he was pressing me against the wall, his hands holding my hands above my head, as his lips dived down to taste mine.
Sweet. Mother. Of God.
I'd always regarded kissing as a gesture of affection, something I had very little practice at, one of those little foibles of human behavior but certainly not a sex act. Christian corrected that erroneous belief. My whole nervous system seemed to light up like a firework as his lips molded against mine.
A length of time that was somehow too long and too short at the same time later, he pulled back. "I needed that. Just one, before you run away," he said, looking down at me tenderly but sadly.
"I'm not going anywhere," I found myself saying, still reeling from the best kiss of my life.
"You say that now," he sighed.
The door opened, and we straightened ourselves out. I walked out into Christian's penthouse apartment. The elevator opened into a little antechamber, and I regarded the vase of flowers on a table, with a painting of the Madonna and child set above it. I wonder if Christian had been thinking of Grace or his birth mother when he had that hung up there where he'd see it every time he came home.
Christian led me into the main body of the apartment. It was grand, luxurious, and almost completely devoid of character. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a showroom. There were no personal touches to indicate Christian actually lived here. Even the piano could have been a prop, though I knew he spent hours playing at it when he was woken by his nightmares of his past.
He led me up to the second floor and to a specific room. He was visibly tense. He reached into his suit pocket for a key and unlocked the door. "This is my playroom," he said simply before opening the door.
I walked into the Red Room of Pain as I'd mentally labeled it. The scent of lemon wood polish filled the air, Gail might have just cleaned all the furniture today. I walked slowly around the room, mentally recalling everything Christian had gotten up to in here with the submissives Elena selected for him.
I reminded myself that he didn't know I was a mind reader and went for hesitant confusion. "Do women do this to you or…" I trailed off.
"I do this to women. With women," he said, watching my every move. He'd closed the door behind him, and the atmosphere was intense. Not the same as the charge between us in the elevator. It was more like being in a church or temple, and in a way I was. This was Christian's altar to the power of dominance and control, as expressed through consensual, contractual sexual relationships.
"So you're into BDSM," I said lightly. Morbidly curious, I pulled out the drawer on one of the two cabinets. An array of neatly arranged sex toys greeted my eye. I closed it again when Christian couldn't help but imagining using each one on me.
"I started out as a Submissive. Now I'm a Dominant," he said honestly, hiding nothing.
"Is it one or the other, or do you switch on occasion?" I asked, meeting his eye and bracing to turn him down flat in regards to all this.
"I haven't felt the need or urge to sub in years, but I suppose anything's possible," he said. I was shocked to hear he'd be okay subbing for me if that's what it took to be with me.
"Um, can we talk about this back in the living room? It's a bit… charged in here," I asked.
Christian opened the door and let me walk out before him. He took me back to the main area of the penthouse and we sat side by side on the couch. "When did this start?" I asked.
"I lost my virginity to a Domme at 15. It's all I've ever known when it comes to sex," Christian said, eyes locked on mine.
"How old was this Domme?" I pressed.
"40 at the time," he shrugged, not seeing how that was a huge fucking deal.
"Christian, I'm aware there's a big cultural double standard here. But if you found out a 40 year old Dom had seduced Mia when she was 15, how would you react to that?" I asked.
His eyes widened in horror before closing off. "It's not the same," he protested.
"Why, because the younger party was male? Mia would have been a victim, but you're just a dude who scored with a cougar? Statutory rape is statutory rape, Christian, no matter the sex of either party," I said firmly.
"This is supposed to be about you and me, not how I got into BDSM," Christian said, but I could hear the turmoil in his thoughts as I forced him to reexamine his relationship with Elena.
"If we get together Christian, your problems become my problems. And if you were raped, that's a pretty big problem I'll have to help you deal with. Who was this woman?" I said firmly.
"Elena Lincoln, my mother's friend I told you about," he answered.
"Walk me through it. How did it start, how long did it last?" I coaxed gently.
"My parents made me do yard work for her over the summer. I was always a problem child, getting into fights, suspensions from school. Elena gave me some lemonade one day, looked me up and down, kissed me hard, then slapped me before walking away. I… liked it. I came back for more. She introduced me to what BDSM was, how it worked, and I willingly signed her contract. I subbed for her for the next 5 and a half years. At the end, I wanted to become a Dominant instead, so she offered herself as my sub. I learned the ropes from her for the next six months, but then her husband caught us together. He beat her, they got divorced, and our sexual relationship ended," Christian told me.
"But she's still in your life," I added.
"I think of her as a friend," he admitted. "She actually is the one who finds Submissives for me, she's deeply involved with the local community."
"Correct me if I'm wrong," I told him. "A 40 year old woman, married to another man, seduced a 15 year old boy, the son of her best friend. She engaged him in sexual acts that involved strict rules, physical restraint, corporal punishment, and total power exchange. She literally kept him in her dungeon for the next 5 years. I miss anything?"
"No," Christian said in a very small voice.
"Christian, tell me that if you heard this happened to some other guy, you'd be as appalled as I am," I all but begged.
"She helped me!" he protested. "She taught me control, discipline. I stopped getting into trouble, my grades went up. I got into Harvard, for fuck's sake! She gave me the startup loan for GEH!"
"I'm not saying she couldn't have had a positive influence on your life. I just want you to agree that what she did to you is seriously messed up. And if you're not already, to bring up what the two of you did with a trained therapist. You could press charges against her, the statute of limitations for underage rape in Washington is until the victim turns 30," I said gently.
"Don't call me a victim. I'm not weak," he growled.
"Who said a victim has to be weak? You're twice my size, but if I shot you in the chest, you'd be a victim of attempted murder. Elena Lincoln raped you, Christian, and you'll never convince me otherwise," I said.
Christian looked like he might cry. "I… I don't know what to think anymore," he said.
I took his hand. He held it so tight. "So… you want me to sub for you, I'm guessing," I said, moving the conversation along.
"That was the plan," he said, trying to regain his composure.
"The answer's no," I told him in no uncertain terms.
"Have you ever tried it before?" he asked.
"I've never tried kissing a girl but I don't have to to know I wouldn't like it. I've never tried crystal meth but I don't have to to know that it wouldn't be a good idea," I explained. "Oh, I'm not saying I wouldn't be interested in exploring my sexuality with some of the things you just showed me one day with a man I loved and trusted. But what you want is for me to sign a contract, follow its conditions to the letter, and hand you complete power over my body up until I safe word or we break it off. And that's never going to happen."
"So where does that leave us?" Christian asked.
My plan had been to let him down gently and we'd go forward as coworkers and friends only. But then he kissed me and I felt alive for the first time in my life. So I took a chance. "How did you like your first 'vanilla' date earlier today?"
"It was nice. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it, just eating and talking with you. I didn't even care who would see us together. I want people to see us together. I want the world to know you're mine," Christian answered.
"So, is us dating and having an ordinary relationship beyond the realm of possibility?" I asked, bracing myself for a firm refusal.
"If you'd asked me yesterday, I would have said yes it was. Now… I don't know," this beautiful, broken man said to me.
I squeezed his hand and let go. "Thank you for lunch, and for hiring me. I'm going to leave now. You have a lot you need to think about. Text me when you're ready with an answer either way."
"Taylor will take you back to the restaurant to get your, for lack of a better word, car," he said mechanically, still reeling from everything we'd talked about. "I ask that you research what model car you want and get back to me as soon as you can."
"Sure thing. See you later, Christian," I grinned as best I could and left him.
Taylor drove me in silence back to the parking lot of the Capital Grille. I got in Wanda and made the drive back to Vancouver. I stopped at a wine store to get a bottle of champagne and carried it into my apartment with Kate.
"Ana! Tell me EVERYTHING!" she begged as soon as I was through the door.
I grinned and held up the bottle. "You are now looking at the new Head Translator of Grey Enterprises Holdings."
"Great! But let's get to what's really important! How'd the date go?" she asked.
I went to get a couple wine glasses and popped the cork into a napkin. "It was a nice first date. We ate, we talked, we had a good time. Not sure there'll be a second though, we got to talking after I signed the contract and some heavy duty shit came up."
"What kind of shit?" Kate asked, getting a bit less excited and a bit more concerned.
"Non-disclosure agreement, can't tell you. But I forced him to realize a big issue that had been in his blindspot, I'm pretty sure," I said as I poured for both of us.
"Fine, be all mysterious. So, you shouldn't have to cook tonight. What do you want delivered?" Kate asked, going to where the takeout menus were held to the fridge by a magnet.
We got Chinese and watched a movie for the night. Kate wanted a word-for-word recap of the lunch and an analysis of Christian's facial expressions, which I was happy to give to keep her from digging into the secret I was keeping regarding the BDSM.
I went to sleep that night, checking my phone one last time to be sure I hadn't missed a text from Christian. But no, he was incommunicado. Unable to resist, I texted him. I'm sorry if what I said upset you, but I think you needed to hear it. Hope you sleep well tonight, maybe my lullaby will help again. Goodnight, Christian.
20 minutes later, just as I was nodding off, I heard a chime. I looked at my phone and saw a short text from Christian. Goodnight, Anastasia. Sweet dreams.
I fell asleep smiling.
My dream had the hyper-clear quality I associated with my visions of the future. I just could hardly believe what I was seeing. Ray had my arm tucked in his. A veil covered my vision and a bouquet of calla lilies, my favorite flower, was in my other hand. I was in a church, walking up an aisle with faces I recognized on one side. Kate and another girl were waiting on one side of the altar, Christian and a big blonde man on the other.
The dream continued to play. I heard myself make heartfelt vows to love, honor, and cherish Christian, and he gave the same. After we both said 'I do' and exchanged rings, he lifted the veil over my head and leaned in to kiss me. People applauded. Christian pulled back, beaming like the happiest man on Earth, and knelt to kiss my belly, rounded out under my white dress. He stood back up and said "I love you, Anastasia Grey."
And then I woke up.
I wandered into the shower in a state of shock and stayed there until I noticed the water had gone cold. I dried off, got dressed, and sat on my bed.
My visions were, to date, 100% percent accurate. They were rare, but if I had one of those super-vivid dreams, it was a guarantee that it would recreate itself in my waking life at some point. Which meant Christian, a man who outright said he never wanted to get married, a man who was afraid just to date me because all he knew was Doms and Subs, would propose, I'd say yes, and I'd get the big white wedding I always imagined. And a plus one, can't forget that part.
I spent an hour processing my apparent destiny to marry and get pregnant with a billionaire. Then Kate knocked on my door asking for breakfast and I snapped out of my little daze. I got back to my regular life, and reminded myself that I had a life to live, even if I had gotten a major spoiler alert overnight. There was a lot to do before my vision came true.
But I wouldn't deny that I was looking forward to it.