I woke up to my alarm, Christian wrapped around me like ivy of course. He had issues with touch, but he was a very cuddly sleeper. I nudged him awake and we both did our morning business in the bathroom. I selected an orange pantsuit with a red blouse for the day.
"You like color, don't you?" Christian observed as I slid into my shoes.
"My favorite gemstones are opals and ammolites. Why settle for one shade when you can get the whole rainbow?" I nodded. "Plus, I wanted to brighten up GEH."
"What's ammolite?" Christian asked.
"It's like a pearl, an organic gem formed from the fossils of ammonites. The best pieces are beautiful, such vibrant reds, greens, and blues. It's actually one of the rarer gems in the world, and if a sample is too large it counts as a fossil and you're not allowed to cut and sell it. I always wanted a piece, but they're too expensive for me until I got this job. Speaking of, payday is every Friday, right? And the computer counts all the time I'm logged in with my ID as billable hours, correct?" I asked my boyfriend who was also my boss.
"Yes, you get paid for every minute you're at your desk, and you can go into the system to log business lunches, dinners, and meetings. I took the liberty of clocking you in for the meeting where we went over the contract on Monday," Christian nodded. "The PC parts were your graduation present. I need to get you something to celebrate you getting this job. Would you prefer a necklace, earrings, or a bracelet?"
"I thought my signing bonus and the Accord were my gifts for taking the job," I chuckled.
"Those were part of your employment contract. I didn't get you something as your boyfriend to congratulate his girlfriend," Christian argued with a grin.
"Heaven save me from billionaires whose love language is gift giving," I chuckled. "I'll take an ammolite pendant, something I can wear under my blouse everyday and think of you when it shifts on my skin."
"Perfect," Christian grinned, giving me a kiss.
We stopped at a Starbucks on the way to work for breakfast, I really did need to go grocery shopping. Or maybe I could just send Prescott or Sawyer with a list, but I was iffy on using my bodyguards as minions. Plus I was the type to check each ingredient to make sure it was the best available before I bought it, they'd probably just pick the first thing they touched that matched my list. But the call with the Chinese was tonight, so I'd probably get home late.
"You said you own a grocery store here in Seattle, Christian?" I checked as we got back in the SUV with Taylor driving, heated sandwiches and cups of espresso drinks in our hands.
"Yes, and it offers delivery. As a member of GEH, you get an employee discount if you shop there too," Christian nodded.
"Nice," I nodded, deciding I would just order online and have Sawyer let everything in. But then I remembered he didn't have a key. Well, I could have Prescott give it to him. I was already chafing at the need for all this security, but with Leila stalking me and Christian, Jack Hyde set to do a drive-by according to my vision, and Elena out on bail, I would make my peace with it. Life with Christian as my boyfriend was anything but dull.
We got to Grey House and I gave Christian a quick kiss before going into business mode. I went to my desk and logged into my computer. I set up the delivery of a week's worth of food to my apartment and called Prescott to give her my keys to hand to Sawyer so he could carry everything into the apartment. That chore handled, I dived back into reviewing and correcting every translation GEH had with a foreign company for one of the languages I knew.
At 10:00, my desk phone rang. I answered "Anastasia Steele, how may I help you?"
"Miss Steele, this is Christian Grey. I have an urgent call on hold from the president of one of my subsidiaries in Iran. How confident are you that you could understand what he has to say?" Christian asked, all a CEO contacting a member of his team.
"That would depend on what languages he speaks, Mr. Grey," I said seriously.
"He doesn't know a word of English and he hasn't found an interpreter he trusts yet. We've been communicating through Standard Arabic so far, but I know his first language is Farsi. Either of those in your repertoire?" Christian asked.
"I'm fluent in Standard Arabic, and I'm proficient in the Kuzhestani Arabic dialect popular in Iran and Farsi. I should be able to help. Should I come to your office?" I asked.
"Please," he told me.
I got up and left my office for Christian's. He was waiting behind his desk, a call on hold at his desk phone. I took a position at his shoulder. "Ready when you are," I nodded.
Christian hit a button on his desk phone. "Thank you for your patience, Mr. Ahmadi. My translator has arrived. In consideration for you, she will be speaking Farsi rather than Standard Arabic," Christian said clearly. I parroted everything he said in Farsi.
"Ah, thank you, Mr. Grey. And my compliments to you, good woman, you speak as well as my own mother!" came a cheerful voice in Farsi. I translated everything word for word to English for Christian.
I helped Christian and Mr. Ahmadi talk to each other about a major distribution issue that had come up unexpectedly. It took 45 minutes for them to work out an action plan, then they agreed to talk again later through email. Christian ended the call and turned to me. "I'm leaking in my briefs right now, Anastasia. Would you mind helping me out?"
I knew this was the plot of a porno or something, but I grinned and got on my knees while Christian unzipped. And the CEO got a blowjob right at his desk.
I straightened myself out after swallowing Christian's load and returned to my office. I had Prescott fetch lunch for both of us and worked through the meal with one hand while I ate. At 5:45, I got up and went to Conference Room 1 where the call with the Chinese would be taking place.
A professional-grade camera and microphone had been brought in and hooked up to the computer. Apparently this would be a video conference. I nodded to the others in the room and waited patiently. Christian and Ros walked in together and took their seats. "Well, time to work for a living. Let's do this. Anastasia, you're up," Christian said as he started the video conference.
The screen came alive with 8 Chinese men in suits seated at a long wood table. There wasn't a single woman in the room from what I could see. The man at the head of the table spoke in Yue Chinese and a much younger man standing behind him spoke. "Mr. Xing wishes you a pleasant evening, Mr. Grey, but expresses frustration that this deal was put on hold for a month," he said in very good English.
"Actually, his exact words were 'Tell the dumb American boy that I am not amused at the delay,'" I added on our end of the call.
The Chinese interpreter blushed and relayed my words to his boss. Mr. Xing eyed me with a shrewd, critical gaze.
Christian spoke up, his face carefully neutral. "My apologies for the wait, Mr. Xing, but our new translator, Miss Steele, did not start work until this week. The important thing is that we're ready now, and I hope to conclude our business today if possible." I copied everything he said in Yue after he finished speaking.
"Well, what are we waiting for then?" Mr. Xing said through his interpreter.
I focused mainly on just converting everything the GEH team said into Yue and correcting any mistakes or omissions the Chinese interpreter made in translating his side's words into English. Christian played nice at first, but I could practically see his fuse get shorter with every casual insult to me or Ros the Chinese executives made and I pointed out.
"Enough," Christian said after over 15 minutes arguing one clause of the contract, when the call had already been going for over an hour. "225 million USD or we walk. I have better things to do than deal with time wasters."
Mr. Xing frowned when I finished translating that. "We request a 10-minute break," he finally said.
"Granted," Christian nodded before hitting the right button on his computer.
"Sexist bastards," Beth, Christian's CMO, sighed.
"I make a suggestion, they're deaf. Christian says it 5 minutes later and suddenly it's a good point," Ros commiserated with her fellow woman.
"And they seem to have a problem with my age too," Christian added lightly.
"If you're not a Han Chinese male with at least 1 son, you don't count as a person in their minds," I informed everyone. "And the word for an unmarried woman over 27 in their culture is 'leftover'. Plus there's the whole communism vs. capitalism worldview. They're actually not that bad, based on what I've experienced in Chinese chat rooms when I was practicing my Mandarin and Yue."
"God bless the USA, I guess," Zachary shrugged.
We got a notification that the Chinese wanted to go back to the video call. The screen came alive with an image of the executive team in Guangzhou.
"We accept your terms, Mr. Grey. $225 million for 100% ownership," Mr. Xing said, looking like he'd bitten into a lemon.
"Wonderful. We'll meet at a neutral location to sign the official contract. Have you any suggestions?" Christian asked.
"Taiwan would be preferable, or possibly Hawaii," Mr. Xing said.
"Taiwan it is. I'll have my team contact yours to hash out the fine details. I hope to meet you in Taipei at your earliest convenience," Christian nodded. He ended the call as soon as I finished talking. "About damn time," he groaned.
"Pardon if this sounds dumb, but why couldn't they just come here or we go to Guangzhou?" I asked.
"Never let the enemy into your home base," August chuckled. "The business world may be distinct from the government, but most foreign presidents and CEOs don't like the idea of having to visit a foreign country or invite outsiders and have to go to the effort to host them. It's easier on both sides just to pick somewhere in the middle you can agree on. Plus, free vacation, getting paid to leave the office for a few days and relax in a hotel somewhere."
"Fair enough," I nodded. "But Taiwan is to China as the Ukraine is to Russia, China still thinks they own it, so we're basically still going to be in their backyard."
"Whatever, I just want to see Taipei 101! It's the second tallest building in the world after the Burj Khalifa!" Barney grinned, having a nerdgasm.
"Anastasia, will you mind being our interpreter in Taiwan while we play tourist? You speak Taiwanese, right?" Ros checked.
"I'm familiar with the Taiwanese dialect of Mandarin, and I know about 5000 words in Taiwanese Hokkien, the actual native language of the island," I nodded.
"When did you have the time to learn all these languages?" asked one of the junior members of the team who'd been invited.
"I have a photographic memory, I only have to hear a word or read it once in another language to attach the English meaning in my head. While most little girls were playing with Barbies or watching Disney movies after doing their homework, I was listening to audio tapes and doing correspondence courses in other languages. My birthday present each year was usually a Rosetta Stone for the language I wanted to pursue that year," I answered the man. "Once I got internet access, I was able to do independent study online, too."
"Anyway, that's enough for one day. Thanks for being here, everyone," Christian said, standing.
We all left the conference room. I went back to my office to log the time I was on the call as work hours. By the time I finished, Christian was knocking on my door. "Hey. I'm beat, you want to crash at Escala or your place?" he asked me.
"We don't have to spend every single night together, Christian," I chuckled.
"Have to, no. Want to, at least on my end. But if you want some space for the evening, just say so, Anastasia," Christian said readily.
I grinned and leaned up to give him a kiss. "I want to go to my apartment, make sure the groceries I ordered were put away properly. Then I'll make us dinner and we can relax."
"Sounds like a plan," Christian grinned.
Taylor drove us to Pike Place Market and the apartment building, Prescott shadowing us. It felt like being the First Lady sometimes, all the security just because my boyfriend and future husband was someone important. Sawyer handed me back my keys and I let us both into the condo. I checked the fridge and sighed. "Give me a few minutes, I need to sort out this mess."
Once all the perishables in the fridge and freezer were in the right section (to my mind at least), I cooked some of the fish I had caught on my hunting trip last week. I made quinoa salad and some broccoli rabe to go with it. Christian loved the food, of course, but then he was biased on top of me actually being a good cook. We opened a bottle of wine and just relaxed on the couch.
"So… since it's literally impossible to surprise me, are you just going to propose the day the engagement ring arrives from Cartier?" I asked after a sip.
"Let me go through the motions, future Mrs. Grey," Christian chuckled. "I'll make it as romantic as possible."
"I'd say yes if you gave me a ring out of a gumball machine tonight, you know," I giggled.
"I'm only going to do this once. Let me do it right," Christian grinned.
"Well, if you insist," I grinned. "So, we'll take Charlie Tango down to Portland tomorrow for Jose's show and take it back. Coping Together on Saturday. Then the next major thing is your birthday on the 18th, isn't it?"
"Nothing else springs to mind for next week," Christian shook his head. "28. Didn't seem like it was going to be a big deal to me just a couple months ago. Now it'll be my first birthday I get to share with you."
"How's the purchase of SIP going? And where are you on getting Hyde arrested?" I asked after I finished kissing him for being so damn sweet.
"The purchase should be finalized by Friday. First thing I'm doing is firing the bastard. And most of his ex-PAs seem to have gone to great lengths to be hard to find. Not that I can blame them, after what he put them through," Christian sighed.
"Are you sure you want to trigger him by firing him? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, after all," I mused. "I mean, he's going to do the drive-by, my visions always come true. But why set him off prematurely, right?"
"Since him attempting to murder us is a forgone conclusion, I'd rather just cut off his income as soon as possible. Desperate people make stupid choices, and he'll be easier to catch in the aftermath," Christian said determinedly. "And we'll both survive to get married, so I'm not that worried."
"Their prior success rate notwithstanding, we're putting an awful lot of faith in dreams," I said with worry. "Maybe you should start wearing kevlar under your suits, I don't need it but it could only help you, right?"
"You can't live in fear," Christian said firmly. "I have my security, and you keep yourself armed. I may even start carrying once the lessons with Taylor start paying off and I can get a concealed carry permit. But I'm not going to wear a bulletproof vest, that's a mental strain in and of itself, believe me. I did it when I got my first billion and I barely lasted 2 months before I just gave it up. Call me weak or overconfident, but I'm more comfortable without armor under my clothes."
"Fair enough," I nodded. My thoughts wandered. "Wonder if I'll ever meet one of my half-brothers or sisters. I can't be the only Progenitor child Baen'thelas had on Earth."
"You never know. But we don't know if he stayed in Washington State or had children all over the world, Anastasia. We only have a 5 minute conversation in one of your visions to go on," Christian said, grabbing my hand supportively. "But I hope you get the chance someday. Family is important, you taught me that."
We finished the bottle of wine and adjourned to the bedroom. Given I'd already blown him earlier that day, Christian settled for a mere 3 rounds before deciding to call it a night. And that was how many times he came, not me. I was one lucky bitch.
We got up with the alarm. I had a thought as I was making oatmeal for breakfast. "Is spending every night and morning with me affecting your workout schedule?"
"Well, yes, but you're well worth a few missed hours of exercise, Anastasia," Christian rushed to reassure me.
I made a decision. "I'll be joining your runs with Taylor and your sessions with Bastille. If you're okay with that, that is."
"You know kickboxing?" Christian asked with a raised brow.
"No, but I'm a very fast learner. Freakishly fast. I seem to be able to mimic another person's movements just by watching them do something. I can recreate any fight scene from any action movie you care to name. And I have a few ballet scenes I tend to bring out at parties," I admitted. "Part of the Progenitor package, it seems."
"Well, alright then. Bastille and I usually meet in my private gym at Escala or at the gym on the 4th floor of Grey House for an hour or two each morning. We can start tomorrow," Christian grinned.
We ate, then Christian had Taylor take him to Escala for a quick change of clothes while I took my Accord to Grey House. Christian said we'd be leaving for Portland at 5:00, and I planned my day accordingly. I logged into my computer before 8:30 and worked continuously until 4:45 with only a brief slow down for lunch. When the time to leave approached, I took a brief break to just catch up on science news, breakthroughs and articles in the community. Have to keep up with current events, right?
Christian knocked on my door promptly at 5:00 and I logged out of my computer. We held hands on the way to the car, and he drove us to Escala where we took the elevator to the roof and the helipad where Charlie Tango was parked. We got strapped in and Christian contacted air control. We took off for Portland.
We landed less than an hour later on a building in Portland. We got out of the helicopter and took the elevator down to the ground floor. Lo and behold, Taylor was ready and waiting with the SUV, he must have driven ahead. We got in and buckled up before I provided Taylor with the name and address of the gallery where Jose's work was being shown.
We got there and Taylor parked before staying a respectful distance behind Christian as he walked with me hand-in-hand to the entrance. Entrance was free, but we were warned that taking photos of any of the art would result in us being kicked out. The man at the front desk handed us a pamphlet with Jose's picture on the front and wished us a pleasant evening.
"These aren't that bad," Christian admitted as we walked through the room, looking at blown up black-and-white photographs of a variety of scenes. Jose liked to capture the 'human' moments that happened every day. I actually had my eye on a heartwarming scene of two kids playing on a playground while their mothers watched with fond eyes.
"I told you he's good," I chuckled. "Come on, he's over here," I said, leading Christian in the direction I heard Jose's mind voice.
We found Jose in talks with, if I wasn't missing my guess, a G-CWOK interested in one of his photos. I took a second to examine said photo and sighed. "You just couldn't resist, could you? You had to put up a photo of me," I griped playfully to Jose.
Jose turned and grinned. "Ana! So glad you could come! And come on, you're one of my best friends, plus one of the most beautiful girls I've met in real life. I had to feature at least one candid!"
The photo was of me sitting at the base of a tree, reading a book. I had a slight smile on my lips and the wind had hit just at that moment to move my hair. It was a great photo, but it made me uncomfortable for the sheer fact some other person could buy it and just stare at me every day.
I needn't have worried. My boyfriend was one jealous, possessive bastard, after all. And stinking rich, can never forget that. "2 million for that photo, and the original negative," Christian said after one look at the photo.
"Are you serious?" Jose gaped.
"1 million for hesitating," Christian frowned, serious as the plague.
"Done!" Jose nodded. Maybe Christian just didn't have the same sense of perspective as me or Jose, but 7 figures was mythical to most Americans. That literally might have been more money than Jose had ever had in his life combined.
Christian took out his checkbook and, casual as you please, signed away $1 million to Jose. Granted, he made more than that each day, but still. It would take a while for me to adjust to dating one of the richest men on Earth. "What are you going to do with your purchase?" I asked lightly as Jose slid the check into his pocket like the paper was pure gold. The gay couple had walked off in a huff that Christian had outbid them.
"Hang it in my office, so I can see you every day," Christian said immediately.
"You old romantic," I said warmly. I turned back to Jose. "Jose, what's your plan? I know you still have one last semester in the fall before you graduate."
"Once I'm an engineer, I'll try to get a job with a car company," Jose grinned.
"You're an engineering major?" Christian asked curiously. "I thought you were a photographer."
"My photos are like Ana learning languages, just something I do for fun, and I guess also something that can make more money than I ever expected," Jose chuckled. "I thought about being just a mechanic, but Dad told me the real money is in building cars from scratch rather than just fixing and maintaining them. Plus Mom all but insisted I get a degree in something, so I came to WSU for the mechanical engineering program. I didn't get a free ride like Ana or have a rich family like Kate, though, my family could only afford a certain amount of credits each semester. So I didn't graduate with them even though we started in Fall of 2007 together."
"What would your dream job or project be?" Christian asked, and I hid a grin at his thoughts. Generous to a fault, my man was.
"I know hybrids and even full electric are the future, but I want to milk everything we can out of the internal combustion engine as we can before we give it up as a relic of the past," Jose said with a grin. "My main focus has been in automobiles, but I've looked into train, plane, and even ship engines too. I'm no genius like Ana here, but I'd like to help at least a little in lowering emissions and increasing mileage and speed a bit each year before they just stop making gasoline-powered vehicles."
"I actually am heavily involved in the manufacturing industry, and I own a small car company based right in Washington. When you graduate, I'd be happy to hook you up with an entry-level position and see where you go from there," Christian offered.
"Adios mio," Jose said under his breath. "You serious? I thought you hated me."
"I don't hate you, Jose. It would be more accurate to say I'm threatened by you. You're friends with Ana and she agreed to date you in the past. A pessimistic part of me can't help but worry she'll get tired of me eventually and run off with you. But she assures me she loves me, and that it would be worth giving you a chance. So I will. Get your degree in the winter and you'll have guaranteed employment at Grey Motor Company," Christian said to my best male friend.
"You're as bad as Trump at naming every company you own after yourself," I chuckled as a joke. I was beaming with pride at my boyfriend for his gesture to Jose.
"I like people to know when something I own is mine, keeps them from getting ideas," Christian grinned.
"So what happens if I insist you take my name instead of the other way around when we get married?" I joked.
"Christian Steele, Steele Enterprises Holdings… it doesn't sound that bad, I guess," Christian shrugged, thinking I was serious.
"One of the languages I speak is Sarcasm, Fifty. I'll be more than happy to become Anastasia Grey," I chuckled.
"You two are talking about marriage already?" Jose asked in shock, reminding us he was standing right next to us.
"Christian doesn't like to waste time. He started the process of commissioning a custom ring the day after we said 'I love you' to each other. And unless he cheats or hits me or crosses some other line before he proposes, I'm going to say 'hell yes'," I explained to Jose.
"I'd say that's fast, but you never do anything without thinking it through, Ana. If you're sure, then I'm happy for you both, really!" Jose smiled warmly at us.
I bought the photo of the kids at the playground (with my own money, to Christian's consternation), and then me and Christian ended up taking Jose to dinner. We had a pleasant evening of food and conversation, Christian getting into a long talk with Jose about cars that flew over my head. I just grinned and watched two of the men I cared about bond with each other. When they'd first met, Christian had threatened Jose to leave me alone or he'd ruin him. Now they were debating the pros and cons of fuel injection or something. It was nice.
Jose returned to the gallery for the rest of the show and Christian and I took Charlie Tango back to Seattle. We landed at Escala, and I all but tore Christian's clothes off as soon as we got to his bedroom.
"You're eager," Christian chuckled before moaning as I took him into my throat to help lube him up before he slid to the root inside me.
I withdrew after a minute of bobbing up and down on the tool I loved almost as much as the man it was attached to. "You made your first male friend who wasn't your brother or an employee. I'm congratulating you."
"Well, if that's how you feel, I won't stop you," Christian said breathily as I went down on him again.
As I was pleasuring him, I recalled a certain fact. Christian had admitted to my face that he enjoyed ass play. I slid my right hand down and dipped my index finger in my quim to get it nice and slick. Then I reached up and, as gently as I could, pressed my lubricated digit to Christian's entrance.
"Oh, angel," Christian groaned, his thoughts full of approval and anticipation.
I slid the finger up to the second knuckle. It was tight and warm, and I idly thought that if I had a cock of my own that I could certainly see the appeal of penetration. Pulling up my mental anatomy chart, I curled it and felt around where the base of Christian's cock would be.
"Fuck!" Christian gasped as I found his prostate, even as I kept methodically blowing him. He blew within 5 minutes of me deepthroating while gently rubbing and prodding his internal erogenous zone. And for Christian, that was quick. I lifted my head, pulled my finger out and idly checked it. It looked clean, but I'd still prefer to wash my hands before I touched anything.
"Damn," Christian breathed as he got his breath back. "I haven't let a woman peg me since Elena, but we simply must get you a strap-on someday."
"You can pick the size," I chuckled. "I'll just run to the bathroom real quick while you recharge." And once I'd washed my finger with soap, I was more than happy to ride Christian and be ridden into the wee hours of the morning.
We woke to his alarm at 6:00. We'd agreed to start exercising together today, so we ate a quick breakfast and then had Taylor drive us to my apartment so I could change into gym clothes. I packed my business clothes and all necessary tools to look business-appropriate into a bag and got back into the SUV with Christian. We arrived at Grey House and came out the elevator onto the gym on the 4th floor by 7:00.
It was an impressive setup for a gym in a corporate skyscraper. Maybe a third of the floor was divided into locker rooms and showers for men and women, and the rest of the floor was filled with the latest machines, the best money could buy. I surveyed the Friday morning crowd. Most of the treadmills, stationary bikes, and the two ergometers were filled with corporate employees getting in their cardio. A half dozen men and a couple women were taking turns on the free weights. There was a section in the corner with mats, and I spotted Claude Bastille, Christian's personal trainer and kickboxing instructor, stretching on them.
We walked over to the mats and placed our gym bags out of the way. Claude looked up and grinned at us. "Christian, glad to see you're getting back into the swing of things. You vanished for almost a month, and this is the first time I've seen you all week."
"I found a new higher priority than fitness, but she convinced me that working out together would be best for both of us," Christian grinned. "Claude Bastille, Anastasia Steele."
"Call me Ana, it's faster," I said with a friendly smile.
"I was a bit surprised when Christian told me we'd be doing couple sessions from now on. What's your experience with kickboxing, Ana?" Claude asked me.
The truth was I hadn't taken a single class, but one of my many abilities was the power to learn a physical skill just by observing someone else do it. I lied and said "I've done a few at-home videos, but I never had the chance to spar with someone else. Let me watch you and Christian go at it for a bit and then we'll see what I can do."
"Sure thing!" Claude agreed. He waited patiently for me and Christian to get warmed up, and then I stood at the edge of the mat while Claude and Christian faced each other. "We use a 10-point system for matches, Ana. First to land 10 real hits that aren't blocked wins the round," Claude explained before getting into his stance, Christian doing the same. "Go!" he called before moving forward to engage.
By the time Christian won the match, I was almost panting with lust. I don't know what it was, but seeing Christian in simulated combat really turned my crank. I used to think that men who got into fights defending their girlfriend's 'honor' were idiots, but now I almost wished some creep would drunkenly grope me just so I could watch Christian kick his ass. I shook my head and focused as Christian shook Claude's hand and went to where I was standing. I walked up to Claude and got into the same exact stance Christian had taken.
"Whenever you're ready," Claude grinned. He wasn't sexist about it, but I heard in his thoughts that he had no doubt he'd win against a 5'2 woman with no formal training. He stopped thinking that when I landed 3 hits in a row almost before he could react.
I restricted my strength to a level reasonable for a female my size, instead of my true supernatural level where I could probably lift a car over my head if I tried. But I was at least as skilled as Claude and Christian from actively watching them fight now, and I could read Claude's thoughts to predict his moves. I ended up winning 10-1, and I only got hit because I overbalanced when Claude did a very good feint.
"Well, hot damn! You're sure that was your first real spar?" Claude asked, very impressed as she shook at the end of the match.
"For kickboxing, yeah. But my Dad taught me regular boxing, so I already have the reflexes and training for fighting," I shrugged, offering an excuse that he could swallow to explain my talent.
"In my experience, book smarts and body smarts rarely overlap. I knew you had a record-worthy IQ, but I wasn't expecting much to be honest. Consider me enlightened," Claude chuckled. "Now, let's see how you do against Christian."
"I'm not going to fight Anastasia," Christian denied immediately.
I raised a brow. "Why not? If you even tangentially imply it's because I'm a girl, you're in the doghouse for a week."
"Anastasia, I love you. I cannot and will not get into the mindset of planning to harm you, even in a friendly spar. I just can't throw a punch or kick at you, even if you ask me to. Sorry, but that's the truth," Christian told me, his eyes intense.
I sighed. "Fine, you can keep your sex privileges. Guess we'll just take turns fighting Claude until the hour's up."
Christian and I sparred Claude until it was just shy of 8:00. We agreed to a session every morning next week unless something came up, and then we hit the showers. I found a free stall and washed the sweat off my body. Towels were provided, so I dried off and wrung out my hair before going to my locker where I'd stored my gym bag. I got dressed for at day of corporate work, then combed my hair and applied makeup in the mirror. There were handy shelves above each sink where I could put my makeup and brush, nice design touch.
Christian met me at the elevator, looking immaculate in his suit, and we took the elevator to the 20th floor. "Want to get lunch later?" he asked as we stepped out. We'd had the elevator to ourselves, but resisted the urge to maul each other since we were at work.
"Sure, what are you in the mood for?" I asked.
"There's this hole-in-the-wall Chinese place I like. The head chef is from Chengdu. I've heard you speak Yue, I'm curious if I'll hear the difference when you speak Mandarin," Christian grinned.
"Sure, sounds fun. Pick me up when you're free," I nodded, gave him a parting wave, and went to my office.
I had an email from Ros, asking me to translate an email with a list of our arrangements for signing the contract in Taiwan for the auto parts manufacturer in Guangzhou that had been my first assignment. I converted the whole thing to Yue within 15 minutes and sent the email before getting back to just reviewing every foreign deal GEH was involved in. Some I just couldn't help with, like the contract in Hausa for some Nigerian company. I had a working vocabulary in over 50 languages, but there were over 7000 recognized languages on Earth. Even I couldn't memorize all those words in one lifetime.
Christian knocked on my door at 12:15 while I was looking at some emails with Tanjung Priok. "Knock, knock," he grinned.
I smiled back, logged out of the computer, and joined him as we headed to the elevator. Taylor drove us to, of all places, a strip mall. "This seems a bit low-class for you," I observed as we got out of the SUV.
"Appearances can be deceiving," Christian grinned.
True enough, we were led to a table, given menus, and offered water within 5 minutes of us walking in. "I've always wanted to get the hot pot, but you need at least 2 people. Interested?" Christian grinned. "You can order, preferably not in English."
The waiter came, and I spoke flawless Mandarin to order the Sichuan style hot pot for us. The waiter complimented my accent and went to put in our order. "Anastasia, do you always work out in just a sports bra and leggings?" Christian asked lightly.
I read his mind and frowned. "Christian, I'm not going to wear a hoodie and baggy sweats every time we spar with Bastille just so the rest of the room doesn't see my boobs or ass jiggle. I'm yours, just as you're mine, and I'm never going to cheat on you. You can't be bothered by people looking at me, any more than I should be bothered by people looking at you. You can't stick me in a burqa to hide my body away from the rest of the world. I didn't raise a fuss when you took off your t-shirt for the last round, and keep in mind I could literally hear what half the women in the room and a few men were thinking while they ogled you."
"Fair point well made, Miss Steele," Christian allowed. "You're right, that's not very fair of me to even think of asking that of you. But I can't promise I won't let my inner caveman loose if some of those fuckers stare too long."
Our food arrived. It was indeed delicious, and bracingly spicy. The head chef came out to talk to us, and I had a pleasant, quick chat with him in his native tongue. Christian watched and listened to our exchange in mounting lust and admiration of my talented tongue. When we finished, he left a $100 bill on the table and we walked out.
We were pulling up near Grey House when I frowned. I tended to try and tune out my passive telepathy, but some voices stood out more than others. And since becoming an empath when I lost my virginity to Christian, I'd been able to pick up the general mood of everyone for about 100 yards in every direction. A rather discordant voice attached to a suicidally depressed person grabbed my attention when it entered my range.
'There's Master's car. Is SHE with him? What makes her different from the rest of us? I was his most devoted and I never saw him outside his playroom,' thought a woman.
My blood went cold. "Christian, Leila's in my range. She's close enough for me to hear her, she must be on this block."
"What?!" Christian gaped, before recovering. He pulled out his phone and dialed Welch. "Welch, full mobilization. I want every free security officer out and looking for Leila Williams, I have reason to believe she's in the vicinity of Grey House."
"Right away, Mr. Grey," I heard Welch say with my super hearing.
"Where is she, Anastasia?" Christian asked as soon as he hung up. I knew Taylor must be confused, but I could worry about that awkward talk later.
"That way," I pointed, towards the crowds in front of Grey House. "She has line-of-sight with us, she's looking at the car."
I heard him thinking lightning fast and I cut him off. "Like hell you're talking to her. You're staying right in this car until Welch grabs her."
"Anastasia, she needs help. She's in pain, and desperate for my attention. I could pacify her, distract her until my men are close enough to secure her," Christian argued. "If I don't, she could bolt and we'll lose this chance."
I sighed. "Fine, but I'm coming with you."
"Absolutely not!" Christian denied.
"Both of us talk to her, or neither of us talk to her. Your choice, Christian," I stared him down.
"Fuck," he grit his teeth. "Fine. Taylor, park here."
"I strongly advise against this, sir," Taylor said, still not grasping all of what we were saying but realizing Leila was nearby.
"Noted. Now do it," Christian ordered.
Taylor parked on the side of the road, and Christian and I got out onto the sidewalk. He held my hand, squeezing tight. I experimented with my active telepathy and tried to project my thoughts into his head directly. 'Relax, I'm bulletproof, remember? If anything, you should be using me as a human shield.'
'Don't even joke,' he thought back, but I felt him relax slightly as he remembered the fact I was invulnerable.
My eyes spotted a woman who looked very similar to me. Christian's type, however Oedipal, was women similar to his birth mother: petite white brunettes. Leila was around Christian's age, 27-ish, and looked like she hadn't changed her clothes or had a shower in over a week. Her eyes were bourbon brown, and gleamed with a feverish light. She looked intensely at us as we walked up to her where she was standing on the sidewalk, the businessmen and women giving her a wide berth.
"Leila," Christian acknowledged once we were in speaking distance.
She bowed her head… well, submissively. "Master," she said, her tone almost reverent.
"I know your lover died, Leila. I know you're hurting. Let me get you some help," Christian said firmly. I noted a couple of GEH's security guards approaching cautiously behind Leila's back.
"I don't need help. I need you," Leila said, looking up at him with such longing. Her every thought literally revolved around him at that moment. I sensed the only reason she hadn't just taken her own life yet was because part of her truly believed Christian might take her back.
"You can't have me, Leila. We weren't meant to be. I'm sorry, but that's the truth," Christian said gently.
"Why'd you pick her, Master?" Leila demanded, her face contorting with fury disturbingly fast. I reached out with my empathy and tried to keep her calm and complacent, but I didn't have much practice and she seemed prone to intense mood swings.
"Anastasia is a wonderful woman. She makes me happy," Christian said honestly, his eyes flicking to the guards getting close enough to grab Leila.
"I could make you happy," Leila insisted, her hand reaching into her pocket.
I realized as soon as she thought about it that she had a gun. I thought lightning fast and decided to appease her until the guards were close enough. "You're right. You could. You deserve him more than I do. I'll back off, you can have him."
Leila blinked. Her moment of confusion was enough, and the security guards grabbed her. One pulled her hands behind her back as she struggled while the other frisked her. He found the loaded revolver in her pocket and immediately ejected the bullets.
"NO! Master, please, let me go!" Leila begged, writhing against the man twice her size who was pulling out a pair of handcuffs.
Christian sighed. "Sorry, Leila, but I can't do that. You need help, whether you realize it or not." He pulled out his phone and dialed 911. He began to describe the situation to the operator, how his stalker had approached him at work and she'd been armed.
Leila broke down in sobs, her heart breaking as she realized she was caught and she would never have Christian back. I felt bad for her, but she was still a crazy bitch with a gun who could have killed me if I'd been normal, so I wasn't too sympathetic.
The cops arrived, and Leila was transferred into the back of a squad car to go to the psych ward. Christian and I gave statements, which took an annoyingly long time, and we got into Grey House around 3:00. Taylor and Prescott joined us in the elevator, and we all went to Christian's office.
"I'm sure you both have something to say about the situation that just went down," Christian addressed the two CPOs. "Speak freely, I won't hold anything you say against you."
"That was very reckless and stupid, what you two just did," Prescott said with a frown. "Our job is to protect you, give our lives if necessary to secure yours. Needlessly putting yourself in danger rather defeats the purpose of having a bodyguard."
"I made a judgment call, and it all worked out for the best. But you're right, Prescott. You have my word that Anastasia and I will try to avoid this kind of scenario in the future," Christian nodded.
"Sir, I'm still unclear on a few details. How did you even know Miss Willams was nearby?" Taylor asked.
Christian looked at me. 'Your call, angel,' he projected at me.
I sighed. I'd only told Kate and Christian because I loved them. But as Prescott had pointed out, she was being paid to die for me if it came down to it. I'd extend her and Taylor the trust they were due. "I'm psychic. I heard Leila's thoughts nearby, that's what alerted us. And I can prove it. Taylor, on the drive here, you were thinking about Sophie's soccer match tomorrow, she's very excited to be goalie for the first time. And before you ask, Prescott, your tattoo is 'Death Before Dishonor' between your shoulder blades."
Both military vets turned CPOS blinked at me. "Damn," Prescott muttered, her mind blown as she realized her ward was telepathic.
"How is this possible, Miss Steele?" Taylor asked, trying to get more information to help him grasp my inhuman ability.
"You don't have to believe me, and if you breathe a word of this Christian will fire and blacklist you for violating your NDAs. My birth father wasn't human. I'm an alien hybrid. I don't know how many others there are here on Earth, or if they all have the same powers I do. We were sired to help humanity 'pass the tests', whatever the hell that means. I don't know much more than that, to be honest. My plan is to just live my life and hope for the best," I explained.
"Well, fair enough," Prescott nodded, moving past that shocking revelation. "Should we let Sawyer know about this too?"
"Let's keep this need-to-know, Anastasia can disclose her secret to him and anyone else as she deems it necessary," Christian decided.
"Now, if that's all, my lunch seems to have run over. I'll be getting back to work," I declared. I gave Christian a quick peck and went to my office. I got to my desk and sighed. Christian would cover all of Leila's hospital bills and any additional mental health treatment she needed. I knew that without even having to read his mind. Leila was officially dealt with. That still left Jack Hyde and Elena Lincoln as potential threats. And I couldn't forget Kate's thought that Carla could try to blackmail me and Christian with my secret.
Thinking of my sister figure, I calculated the time difference between Seattle and Barbados. She should still be up. I called her on my Blackberry.
"Ana! What's up, gurl?!" Kate giggled when she picked up. She sounded like she'd had a few drinks.
"Kate, are you sober enough for a serious discussion or should I call back tomorrow?" I asked upfront.
"Why, what's wrong?" she asked, her tone getting concerned.
"One of Christian's exes started stalking him. She confronted us outside Grey House earlier today. She's in cuffs and headed to the hospital for psychiatric attention and observation, but she had a gun. Plus I had to read Taylor and Prescott into the psychic thing to explain how I knew she was nearby," I sighed.
"Phuket, Thailand," Kate gasped. "Are you okay, Ana?"
I tried to articulate the muddy feelings and thoughts polluting my mind. "If I'd have been normal, I would have no idea she'd been there. She could have confronted me alone later and shot me dead. I've resented my powers all my life, but now I have to admit they probably saved it today. It's causing some cognitive dissonance."
"You've tiptoed your whole life, Ana, but you were born to strut. You wish you were born just like everybody else. But you're not. And you don't have to be. You can just be you, and you and the world will be happier for it," Kate said to me with love.
I sighed but grinned. "There's actually a quote by Marianne Williamson that got used by WEB DuBois. 'Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our greatest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.' That's me to a tee. I'm scared to go 100%, balls to the wall, see exactly what I'm capable of. I've been trying to fit in the box of your standard human being for as long as I can remember. But I'm not a standard human being. I'm a Progenitor's daughter, and maybe I should start acting like it."
"That's the spirit! So, you and Christian are all okay?" Kate checked.
"Physically, we're both fine, and I don't think he was traumatized by the encounter with Leila. My little hang up on my powers is probably the worst damage from the event," I assured her. "So, how's the vacation going?"
"Mommy and Daddy are putting on their 'happy faces' when me or Ethan are in the room. But we all know they're sleeping in separate bedrooms, and not even alone half the time. But a divorce would ruin the Kavanagh family's 'image', and that's all they really care about," Kate sighed. "Elliot's having a blast! He talked me into scuba diving, believe it or not!" she added, audibly brightening.
"Was it fun?" I asked, moving the conversation along. After 20 minutes of getting caught up on all her and Elliot's shenanigans (apparently sand got in the worst places when you had sex on the beach), I wished her well and hung up, my mood lighter and settled after the thing with Leila. I slid my ID into the card reader and got back to my job. No reason not to be productive for the rest of the day.
Christian got me at 7:00, and we decided to spend the night at my place. "I have a confession," Christian said after we'd had dinner and were relaxing with some wine and HIMYM. "I know you only said it to throw her off, but it hurt when you told Leila you'd let her have me."
"I didn't mean a word, Christian," I assured him with a kiss. "I'm never letting you go. On the off chance we both develop feelings for the same person, I might be open to making this couple a trio. But otherwise, I'm it for you and you're it for me."
"Odd that you should mention that," Christian chuckled. "There's an up-and-coming politician, John Blake. He's already trying to gather support to run for the federal senator election next fall. One of the leading issues on his ticket is polyamory rights, making it so non-traditional relationships can enjoy all the benefits of marriage. He's an avid supporter of LGBT+ rights too, but he's really reaching out to men with two or more wives or women with two or more husbands. I got an invite to a fundraiser he's throwing Monday night. I wasn't planning on going, but would you like to attend?"
"I'm intrigued," I told him. "Let me research him, see if I can get behind most or all of his policies. I'll have an answer for you by Sunday."
"Sure. Normally those kinds of events bore me to tears, but with you it might not be so excruciating," Christian chuckled.
We watched the TV show for a little longer, and then Christian decided that the near-miss with Leila merited 'thank God we survived' sex. Which I learned was one of the best kinds of sex there was.
I'd turned off the alarm since it was the weekend, but I was naturally an early riser. My eyes opened around 7:40 of their own volition. I maneuvered out of Christian's koala grip and went to the bathroom. After I got showered and dressed, I decided to let Christian sleep and went to my PC. I pulled up the browser and typed in 'John Blake Washington politician'.
The first result was his official website, and I gave it a look. John Blake looked to be in his early 30s, but his bio revealed he was actually 40. Good genes, I guess. He was classically handsome, and the smile in his photo struck me as genuine. His background information was an interesting read. Mother died in childbirth, unknown father, raised by his grandparents. Enlisted in the Marines at 18, got the Medal of Honor for his actions in saving his whole unit during the initial wave into Afghanistan after 9/11. Honorable discharge in 2003, then happened to win the Powerball with a single ticket he'd bought 'just to use up some spare change' as he put it. Went for the 30-year option instead of the big payout, and had been smartly investing each year's payment. Got into state politics in 2007, and there was an option to donate to his campaign for the 2012 national senator elections.
I realized with some surprise that he'd made this website himself, all of the text was in the first person and 'felt' like the same writer. I read his 'Policy' page and learned we agreed on almost every single issue. When it got to the section labeled 'polyamory', there was a photo of John Blake with a blue-eyed blonde on his right side and a brown-eyed Latina on his left. They looked to be about my age. All three were smiling at the camera, the girls resting their heads on his shoulders in an intimate gesture.
I read the accompanying text. "When I first met Alyssa Marant, she was looking through the garbage for something to eat. When I offered to get her a hot meal, she assumed I expected payment out of trade. I told her I wasn't that kind of man, and she eyed me like I was half-crazy the whole trip to a nearby diner. I offered to let her stay in my guest bedroom, again with no expectation of any favors, sexual or otherwise. She asked me what the catch was, and I just told her 'No catch. Just trying to do the right thing.' I learned over the next few days, as she shared her story, that she was an orphan and had run away from the foster system after her third abusive household in a row. She lived on the streets since age 8, all by herself, but somehow managed to survive until I came into her life. The last thing I expected was to fall in love with her, but I did. And by some miracle, she felt the same way. I knew it would be difficult, I was old enough to be her father after all, but we realized we couldn't fight our love. I proposed on the anniversary of our first meeting, and I was happier than I'd ever been up to that point. And then Alyssa met Calara Fernandez. They shared a class at the community college where Alyssa was studying after I helped her get her GED. I still remember Alyssa coming to me in tears, admitting she was developing feelings for another person, a woman at that. I helped educate her about her bisexuality and assured her I wasn't jealous or mad, feelings come and go, it's our actions that define us. And then I met Calara myself and she weaved her spell on me as well. It was confusing for all three of us, but we finally realized we'd all be happiest if the three of us got together and made it work. I'd happily marry both of them, but that is illegal in all 50 states. Alyssa and Calara can't even take each other as wives in the state of Washington either. I consider it a life goal to make it so that we, and all other loving relationships involving more than 2 people, can be legally married in the USA."
By the time Christian woke up and wandered into the main area of the apartment, I'd made my decision. "It's a definite yes on the John Blake fundraiser. And if you don't cut him a big fat check, I will. This guy's one of the good ones," I told him as I got up to start on breakfast.
"Sure thing, angel," Christian nodded. "So, you're a fan now that you've checked him out?"
"I'll wait until I get to see him in person and get a read on him, but based on his website and his track record so far, I'd vote for him for a third term as President. I'm seriously impressed," I nodded as I decided what to cook.
"Okay, I'll RSVP yes for both of us," Christian nodded, taking out his phone and shooting Andrea a text.
And that's what led to me meeting my half-brother.