Author's Note: Christian's current age is 26. It was 25 when the story began. The year is 2016, and he has the same birthday as in canon, June 18. This means he had a birthday back in the summer, but he didn't celebrate it. Ana is a year older than she is in canon. That's because they met a year later than they did in canon.

In the previous chapter, they woke up together at the Fairmont on Tuesday morning after a blissful night together. This is going to be a very, very long day, so hold on tight, folks. The next few chapters will be Tuesday, Nov. 22. Chapter 13 will be Ana's POV, and then we'll be back to Christian's POV again.

Chapter 12:(Christian's POV)

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Tuesday mornings at GEH were usually quite busy for me, and today was even busier than usual not only because of the CFO interviews, but also because it was a holiday week. GEH was closed on both Thursday and Friday, leaving only a three-day work week. Cramming five days' worth of work into three days was next to impossible, but I was determined not to spend the holiday working, especially not now that I had Ana with me for the most important Thanksgiving holiday of my life. I wondered how long I needed to wait before I asked her to marry me. I would have liked nothing more than to propose to her on Thursday of this week, but I knew she'd balk at that idea. She'd think we needed more time... to be sure. I was already sure, and I didn't need more time, but I didn't want to make her feel rushed. Knowing Ana, she'd prefer Thanksgiving… a year or two from now. Hell, no, that wouldn't work for me. I needed her now. I just needed to figure out how much time I needed to wait so she wouldn't feel pressured into anything.

In spite of my mental wanderings, I was getting quite a bit of work done, answering emails and shit. It seemed like only five minutes had passed since I dismissed Ana to meet with her new CPO, but when I glanced at the time on my computer, I realized that it had been almost an hour.

At the same moment I checked the time, 9:54 a.m., I got a new email alert, and I glanced at my inbox to check how important it was. Fucking important, it turned out. It was from the guy we were supposed to interview this afternoon, Sebastian Song, who was flying in from Chicago and was supposed to arrive this morning, which would give him plenty of time before his 2:30 p.m. interview. Unfortunately, Chicago was experiencing its first snow storm of the season, and planes were all grounded. He was going to be delayed, and he didn't know when he'd be able to get here. The biggest problem was that his interview included a cocktail hour with staff that he would be working closely with. Part of the goal of this part of the interview process was to see how the candidate interacted with his/her would-be staff. We'd need to figure out a way to make up for this. It wasn't Mr. Song's fault that Chicago weather sucks and often causes air travel delays, so I didn't want to penalize him for this.

"Ana, can you come to my office," I paged her. This was a scheduling clusterfuck that I needed her help with. Thank fuck she was back from Sweden and had agreed to come back to work.

"I just heard from Sebastian Song," I told her. "Apparently, his plane didn't take off at 6 a.m. Chicago time as expected. He's still there, grounded due to weather. He only just now decided to inform me because he thought he'd still be able to get here in time."

She nodded thoughtfully, processing the information. I knew she was already thinking up a solution to the problem, in her usual way.

"Maurice Golding is local," she said, referring to our interviewee scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. "I'll see if he's able to come in today instead."

"Good," I responded. I knew she'd figure it out. "Don't forget, he needs to be able to attend the cocktail hour. The whole point of this second interview is to see how the potential CFO interacts with the Finance team."

Ana nodded, "I'll keep that in mind. And... Christian..." She seemed hesitant to finish saying what was on her mind.

"What it is, Angel," I pressed her.

"Just... I like his name," Ana finally answered. "Sebastian Song. It sounds very… musical."

"You want me to hire him because he has a cool sounding name?" I asked her, trying to hold back my smirk. She amused the hell out of me sometimes.

"No, but..." She hesitated again, and then pressed forward. "I hope you won't hold this travel delay against him. It's not his fault that Chicago weather is unpredictable."

I realized in that moment that Ros was absolutely right: Ana did make me tolerable to work with. It hadn't even occurred to me that Mr. Song was to blame for his travel delay. But I realized... the old Christian Grey would have written him off. I would have been extremely pissed off at his failure to inform me early this morning when he knew he was going to be delayed. I wouldn't have considered him for the CFO position after that.

"You know, Mr. Song is at the top of Ros's list. And it has nothing to do with the sound of his name," I informed Ana.

"He does have an impressive resume," Ana agreed. She had taken the time yesterday to look at the files for all four of the candidates to prepare for their job interviews. Her role as my assistant was invaluable during these kinds of meetings, so I'd wanted her to be as knowledgeable as possible before the interviewees arrived this week.

"He's the least experienced," I argued, mainly because I was enjoying our banter.

"He's also the youngest," she retorted.

"Exactly," I agreed. "I'd like to have somebody a little older, with more work experience."

Ana smirked at me. "Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. Billionaire CEO? Sebastian Song is two years older than you." Yes, she'd looked at his background report too, not just his resume. I knew his birth date wasn't in the resume. My girl had prepared well, as usual.

"Yes, well, I'm... unusual," I countered.

Ana's smirk turned into a beautiful giggle, my favorite sound. "Yes, you are. You're very special, Mr. Grey." Then she looked serious, but I could tell she was still being playful. "But so is Sebastian Song. Did you notice that he graduated from high school when he was only 15 years old, and from college at 18? He already had two Master's degrees, a Masters of Finance and an MBA, by the time he was legal to drink alcohol. That's impressive. And the work he's done since then is also very impressive."

I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable at how impressed my girl was with this guy. So what if he had two fucking Masters degrees? I hadn't even needed a Bachelor's degree to make my billions. "So what? I'm the youngest self-made billionaire in the fucking country," I reminded her.

Ana looked amused. "Yes, you are," she agreed. "And you have a ginormous cock."

Did she really just say that? Yes, she did, and with a straight face too. "Stop acting jealous, Christian," she told me, still with a straight face. "I don't want Sebastian Song. I only want you. Only you. And your net worth has nothing to do with it, as I hope you are well aware by now. I just think Mr. Song would be a good fit at GEH. That's all. Who's your top choice anyway?" Way to steer the conversation, brilliant girl.

"Probably... Marta Henderson," I answered. "She has the most experience."

"Hmm... interesting. The only female of the four finalists. I agree, she does have an impressive work history."

"But...?" I pressed her.

"No buts. I haven't met any of these people yet. I was still in Sweden when they had their first interviews. I'll let you know what I think after her interview. Now... let me go fix your scheduling problems."

I let her go, even though I really wanted to come back to that comment she'd made about my "ginormous cock," and maybe even have a repeat of her performance in my office yesterday. But no, we both had work to do.

In less than an hour, she had worked it all out. Maurice Golding was able to come in for his interview today instead of tomorrow. That meant that we could put Mr. Song's interview off to tomorrow afternoon, which would hopefully give him plenty of time to get here in spite of the weather. The only catch was that Mr. Golding wasn't able to arrive at GEH until 3:45 this afternoon. We would still be able to have our scheduled cocktails with the staff that he'd be working with, but I wouldn't be done with the interview until 6:45. We'd have to push back our dinner plans with Elliot. But Ana took care of that too, with her usual finesse. We were going to meet Elliot and the ever-annoying Ms. Kavanagh at 7:30 instead.

The interview with the first candidate for CFO, Marta Henderson, was scheduled from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m., and it included lunch at the Mile High Club with Ros and, you guessed it, the staff that Ms. Henderson would be working with if we hired her. This, of course, included the ones we'd just rehired and met with the day before, the ones who'd brought Hyde's sadistic plans to our attention. In her first interview with us, Ms. Henderson had performed extremely well, and as I'd told Ana, she was at the top of the list in my mind. Her experience in Finance was impressive, and she had glowing recommendations from some big names.

My opinion of her made a 180 degree turn within the three hours of her interview. When in a social situation like the lunch meeting we'd arranged, her ranking in my eyes went down considerably. For one thing, Ms. Henderson came across as rude or belittling to some of the people who would be working under her authority. For another thing, she kept giving me glances that made me uncomfortable. It's just a face, darling. Get over it. Not that I'd ever discriminate when it came to hiring her based on her age, but I knew from her background report that she had just turned 40. That was actually probably a perfect age for her job, given the experience I wanted my new CFO to have. But it was not a perfect age, in my mind, to be her boss's fuck buddy, as her behavior seemed to indicate was her interest. Her 26-year-old boss. Who was very much "off the market" as this morning's assholes had put it.

To make matters worse, Ana noticed Ms. Henderson's attention to me, which actually did not surprise me in the least. And she let me know it as soon as Ms. Henderson had finally left the building after her interview.

"She wants you," Ana told me bluntly.

"She wants to work for me," I corrected her, although I knew exactly what Ana meant, and she was right.

"No, she wants to do more than work for you," Ana insisted. "She wants to fuck you."

I couldn't stop my smirk. "Did you just say the F word?" I teased her.

Ana rolled her eyes. "Christian, please don't hire that woman," she responded.

Well, that settled it for me. There was no way in hell I was going to hire Marta Henderson once Ana had asked me not to. But I wanted to hear more from my girl about her impressions. Plus, I wanted to tease her some more. Did I mention that I love our banter?

"Ana, she's very well qualified. She's probably got the most experience…"

"Yeah, I just bet she's got a lot of experience," Ana spat. "Did you see how she looked at you? She was supposed to be socializing with the Finance team, but she had eyes only for you. And did you see how she was dressed? It was a job interview, for Christ's sake! She looked like she was ready for a night out, with paying clientele!"

Really? Come to think of it, she had been showing more cleavage than I thought was appropriate for a business meeting, especially a job interview. Anyway, it was time for me to set my girl's mind at ease.

"Ana, Princess… First of all, OK, I will not hire Marta Henderson."

"Really?" she asked. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," I agreed. "Honestly, I agree with you about her behavior. But even if I didn't, your opinion matters to me. So yes, just like that."

"Wow. OK. Umm… thanks." Now she looked embarrassed. I could see how her wheels were turning. She thought she had overreacted. Had she? Either way, I felt like I needed to address this now.

I continued, "You know, that could be the end of discussion, but it's not. I want you to realize something, Princess, right fucking now. YOU ARE IT FOR ME." I spoke each word clearly and distinctly as I gazed into her beautiful eyes.

"Christian…" she tried to stop me, but I wasn't having that.

"No, let me say this. And hear me, OK? Ana, there are going to be other women who want me. There always are, but I don't give a shit. They can look, and they can lust, whatever, I don't care. All I care about is you. You, Ana! Even if I hired her, which I'm not going to do, she wouldn't stand a chance with me. She doesn't hold a candle next to you."

"OK, OK, sheesh, I get it, OK?" Ana replied.

"I love you, Princess," I assured her. "Only you."

"I love you, too, Christian. I'm sorry for overreacting."

"You have nothing to apologize for," I insisted. "If I'm not mistaken, you had to remind me, just a couple of hours ago, about my own... how was it you put it? 'Ginormous cock'?"

She did her sexy snort giggle thing, but then she glanced at Little Grey. "Umm... we don't have time, Christian," she reminded me, knowing full well where my mind was. "Barney's been waiting to talk to you for at least twenty minutes. And he looks... agitated."

Barney could wait. I wanted her. But she was right, we didn't have time. Damn. "Barney always looks agitated," I reminded her.

She looked confused for a moment. "Really? Maybe when he talks to you? Anyway, I think he's found something important that he wants to tell you about in person. He wouldn't tell me more than that. He insisted that he needs to speak to you alone. Which is fine, because I've got a lot of work to do. But I hope you'll tell me if it's about Leila Williams. She did threaten me, after all."

"Of course, I'll tell you," I promised her. And I would. I was not going to keep secrets from her. She already knew everything about me, and for some reason that I didn't even understand, I wanted to keep it that way.

Barney did, indeed, have important information for me. Not about Leila Williams, as Ana and I had both expected, nor about Elena Lincoln either (at least not that he revealed right away), but about Jack Hyde. Shit! Was this never going to end? But I thanked God once again for Barney, because I doubted anybody else would have gone the extra mile he'd gone to get this information.

I'd known Barney Sullivan almost as long as I'd known Ros. We'd all met in Cambridge, Massachusetts, when I'd been a student at Harvard. Ros had been an upperclassman, but we'd taken a class together, and we'd worked together on a project. That was when I realized I wanted her to work for me, and she realized that I wasn't as full of shit as most guys my age at Harvard were. A few weeks later, she introduced me to Barney Sullivan, a friend from her hometown of Eugene, Oregon, who was in his final semester of a PhD in EECS at MIT. He was brilliant, Ros insisted, and she wanted him to work for us. It didn't take much to convince me. Barney, however, was another matter. His career goal was to be a college professor, so at first he wasn't the least bit interested in working for us. It wasn't until we'd gotten GEH off the ground, and he'd spent a couple of years in tiny little town somewhere in Southern Illinois, the most promising job offer he had at the time (for a professorship anyway), that he reconsidered our offer and decided to move to Seattle to work with us. As it turned out, he loved his new role at GEH, and we paid him handsomely for his expertise, but he also loved being able to spend a couple of evenings a week teaching a course at U-Dubb. Our very own Barney Sullivan moonlit as an adjunct professor, so he was able to have his cake and eat it too.

"What have you got for me, Barney?" I asked him as he entered my office. He was one of very few employees that I called by their first names.

Barney was never one to waste time or words, so he got directly to the point. "Did you know that you have a history with Jack Hyde?" he asked. "And by history, I'm referring to… childhood? Early childhood."

I'm sure my face must have gone white. Barney had just shocked the shit out of me. What the fuck was he referring to? "Early childhood?" I asked dumbly. Barney Sullivan didn't know about my early childhood. Very few people did.

Barney had a stack of papers in his hand along with a thumb drive. "I didn't want to email any of this to you because of the criminal investigation into Hyde. You don't want to have any of this shit on your computer, just in case. In fact, you don't even have to open the thumb drive at all because I made hard copies of everything. There are two stacks here. The first stack is all personal. In and of itself, there's nothing there damaging for you to have in your possession. In fact, it's all stuff you probably have stored away somewhere anyway. But what you don't want is the link to Hyde's private personal files."

"You hacked into his personal computer?" I confirmed. Not that I cared at this point that he'd just done something illegal for me, but I just wanted to make sure I understood what he was telling me.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I'd already gone over his work computer, and it was clean, but when the shit came out yesterday about his personal vendetta against you, I decided to dig a little deeper. This is all from his personal laptop, which he never, to my knowledge, brought to work."

"And it's stuff I'd have stored away somewhere? What does that even mean, Barney?" I asked.

"That's just the first stack. It's personal shit about you and your family that I found in encrypted files on his personal computer," Barney explained. "Took me most of the night to break the codes. You're welcome." Yeah, Barney had always been a bit of a smart ass. But he was a brilliant smart ass, so I let it pass.

"I'll thank you once I know what it is I'm looking at," I told him. "And what do you mean about my early childhood?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but I had to ask.

"OK, take a look at this." He picked up a print-out of a grainy photograph of what appeared to be a family with several children. I had no idea what it had to do with me or with Hyde.

"What am I looking at?" I asked Barney.

"I'm still trying to figure that out," Barney admitted. "But…" he leaned over and pointed at a child in the photograph. "That kid right there? That's… you. And the one right behind him…? That's Jack Hyde." Barney was referring to a scowling boy who was head and shoulders taller than the child who was supposedly me.

I looked more closely at the photograph. Sure enough, Barney was right. That kid was me. I didn't look to be more than three years old. Was this before or after my birth mother died? I had no clue, no memory of any of the people in the picture, including the boy that Barney insisted was Jack Hyde. He looked to be around nine or ten years old in the photo. When the hell had this been taken?

"What is this, Barney?" I asked him. I'm sure he could see how puzzled I was over this revelation.

"Still trying to figure it out. But… my best guess? Foster family. I think this was taken after the death of your birth mother."

Shit! So, he did know. "How much do you know about… that?" I asked him.

"Not much," he replied with no emotion. That was Barney. He was a machine. "I know that Ella Hopkins died of a drug overdose in Detroit, Michigan. Her death was recorded on January 22, 1990, but she had been dead for at least three days. Her four-year-old son was found next to her body. He was immediately given medical attention and then taken into care. Foster care. He was placed with Carrick and Grace Grey a month or so later, and they eventually adopted him." I didn't miss how he was referring to me in third person. Was that supposed to make me feel better about all this? If so, it wasn't working.

"Shit!" I exclaimed. I needed a minute. Without speaking to Barney, I made my way into my bathroom. I looked in the mirror and told myself to get a grip. So what if Barney Sullivan knew about what happened to my birth mother? Did it really matter? I just hadn't been expecting her name to come up at all. I hadn't even known her last name until Barney just told me.

I got a handle on myself and made my way back to my desk. "What else, Barney?" I asked him.

Barney answered a bit more reservedly. His tone was more, I don't know, gentle or something than usual. Thankfully, I didn't hear any pity or shit like that coming from him. "This bastard has been following you for years. And by following you, I mean not just your career. It started before that. There are images in here that date back to your middle school years. And not just yours but your brother and sister's too. Most of them are from here in Seattle, but there are a few grade school pictures from Detroit, before you moved here. Those are mostly your brother. And there are pictures of all three of you from childhood through more recently. The recent ones appear to be mostly social media type shit."

"He has pictures of Elliot and Mia?" I asked confusedly. "Why?"

"Don't know yet, but more of her than of him. Your sister posts a lot on Instagram. At least, I suspect that's where most of them come from. So, I suspect he just had easier access. There are pics here from your own middle school and high school sports events, and your brother's. A couple of piano recitals of you. Then Harvard, from the rowing team. Oh, and prom pictures of your brother and sister, but none of you."

"I didn't go to the prom," I said.

"That explains it," he replied. "Anyway, it's not just your siblings, and it's not just photographs. He's been researching your parents too. Medical and legal journals and shit like that. News articles about legal cases your father won. Publicity for your mother's charity, Coping Together. It all dates back to your childhood."

I thumbed through the files and saw all that Barney was describing. "What the hell was he doing researching my family like this?" I asked Barney, even though I knew he didn't have an answer.

"I'll find out," he assured me. "Now the second stack... that's what you're going to want to protect with your life. Maybe shred it after you read it. At least put it in your safe."

"What is it, Barney?" I asked. Just get to it already.

"Everything that Holly Steiner and Oscar Baker told you yesterday is confirmed right here, from the bastard's own personal files. It's his plan. His strategy for first taking over GEH and then running it into the ground, including how he'd worked it out to entrap you in crimes that he himself was committing, making it look like it was all you."

"We need to turn this over to the FBI," I told Barney. My Finance team members that Barney had just mentioned had already given their testimony, but if this proved it, even better.

"I have a better idea, but I'm working on it. If we give it to them like this, they won't be able to use it as evidence because of how I obtained it. But now that we know it's there... I'm going to ask Welch to talk to his buddies in the FBI. Hint at this information. They can get a subpoena and get it legally themselves."

"That gives him time to get rid of it," I reminded him.

Barney just smirked at me. "If he deletes any of this, we'll just have to make sure it's back when the FBI get ahold of his laptop."

"Yes, oh great one, forgive me for doubting," I remarked.

Barney just started at me strangely for a moment. Finally he cracked a smile and asked, "Did you just make a joke? Christian Grey... makes jokes?"

I chuckled. "Apparently I do... now. Anyway, is that everything?" I wasn't sure I could handle more.

"About Hyde, yeah. Lincoln's phone is bugged now, so we can listen in on her calls." Yep, that was Barney too. Changing the subject before you had time to process the first one.

"Great work," I told him.

"That was all Welch," he reminded me. "I'm just doing the recording. Meanwhile, I'm still looking into her background. You know you're not the only minor that she's sexually molested, right?"

Holy fucking shit! "Barney…?" I wanted to rip him a new one. How the hell did he know about my past with Elena Lincoln?

"Calm down, man," Barney said quietly and calmly. "She alluded to it in her emails to Leila Williams, and it wasn't that hard to figure out. I mean, she didn't admit to molesting you, but she did claim to have known you intimately for over a decade, and hell, no offense, but you're only 26 now. So, I just put it together and looked for more of… that type of behavior. It wasn't hard to find. She has a sex dungeon in her house."

"You bugged her dungeon?" I asked him incredulously. Of course, I knew she had a dungeon. That wasn't news, but how long ago had my employee bugged it?

He nodded, but he looked contrite instead of proud. "Look, I'm not trying to bring up old ghosts or shit like that. I'm just making you aware… you weren't the only one. She's still doing it. I have proof. Just… not legal proof. Not admissible, if the police were going to arrest her."

I wasn't angry with him for bugging her dungeon. Far from it. I just wasn't sure what to do with the information, at least not yet. And I still needed to process everything he'd just told me.

"Look… I have a busy day ahead. Another CFO interview, to be exact. And you've just... unloaded some heavy shit on me. Until you have more answers for what to do with the information you have… can you just… hold onto it?" I wasn't sure how much more I could handle, but I didn't want to tell him that. I needed to call John Flynn, but there wasn't time. Shit!

Actually, even though I only had a few minutes to spare, I did make time as soon as Barney left my office to call to Dr. Flynn. My mental health was too important to overlook, and I knew it. While I had Ana sitting in my lap on the sofa, where I could caress her comfortingly (more for me than for her), I had Dr. Flynn on speaker phone, so I could fill them both in at the same time on all the information Barney had just dumped on me.

Flynn just had one question after I'd told him everything I knew… and didn't know… about Jack Hyde's actions. "How do you feel?" Of course. Fucking Flynn.

"Helpless. Confused. Angry that he invaded my privacy, and my family's privacy. Worried about what he wants this information for. Stupid for trusting him, for putting him in a position of power in my company, which he almost destroyed."

"I've heard you say almost those exact same words about Elena Lincoln," Flynn reminded me. "Stupid for trusting her. For giving her so much power over you."

"Yeah, I guess it's the same thing," I agreed.

"Christian, it's not your fault that you trusted them. You realize that you don't have any reason to feel ashamed, don't you?" Flynn reminded me.

"I'm usually a good fucking judge of character," I lamented.

"Except sometimes you're not," Flynn replied, "Especially when the people in question have the sole intention of manipulating you. Give yourself a break, Christian. You don't have to be perfect."

"I do if it means protecting the people I love," I insisted. "I put everyone in danger. And now Ana's in danger because of my past."

"Christian," Ana spoke up for the first time, "I'm not in danger because of your past. I'm in danger because of an evil manipulative woman who hurt you. I agree with Dr. Flynn. Give yourself a break. I love you just as you are, Christian. I don't need you to be perfect. You're close enough."

Before I had a chance to kiss Ana the way I wanted to, Flynn interrupted my thoughts. "Christian, we need to schedule a time for you to talk more about Barney Sullivan, this employee of yours who uncovered some ugly truths about your past. I know we don't have time to get very deeply into it right now, and I think you need more time to process it anyway. But is there anything you need to get off your chest right now?"

I only needed a moment to consider his question before I responded, "I'm pissed off that he knows so much, but I'm not surprised. Barney hacked into the Pentagon when he was 13 years old. And the CIA when he was 15. In fact, it's probably government officials who still have a bone to pick with him that prevented him from getting a better job in academia, but that was a good thing for us. It's a miracle he isn't in prison, but since he was a juvenile…" I realized I was getting off topic, and cut myself off. "Anyway, I'm not surprised he found out what he did, but I feel invaded nonetheless. But I trust Barney. He's one of my most trusted employees. He's loyal. I'm not worried that he'll misuse the information."

Flynn suggested that Ana and I both see him on Friday, so we scheduled an appointment for that morning. Ana assured me she had no interest in Black Friday shopping, and Flynn was only too happy to go into work, giving him an excuse not to shop with his wife.

Then, after we blinked (so it seemed), it was time for Maurice Golding's interview. Mr. Golding was older than Marta Henderson, about a decade older in fact, but he was in the middle of his second career, so she still trumped him in relevant experience. Golding had started out as a high school math teacher, and then had quit that job mid-career, gotten a master's of finance degree, and worked in several businesses in the Northwest, working his way to the top.

Ana agreed with me that Mr. Golding's work experience was almost as impressive as Ms. Henderson's, and his recommendations were even more notable than hers had been, including one from Greg Smith at Boeing, and another from Brian Olsavsky at Amazon. Ana also agreed with me that Mr. Golding interacted well with the finance team during the cocktail hour that he attended. He seemed to be laid back but professional, setting the staff at ease.

It turned out, one of the members of the finance team even knew Mr. Golding. Holly Steiner (whom we'd just rehired the day before, and who had been invaluable at explaining Hyde's plot to destroy me) had attended Henry M. Jackson High School, class of 2002, and Maurice Golding had been her Calculus teacher. I recalled that 2002 was also the year that Mr. Golding changed his career. Interesting.

I was curious to see how Golding interacted with Ms. Steiner in particular, and sadly, I was a bit disappointed at what I observed. She was avoiding him. Why? There was no opportunity to ask her either, because all the employees left at 5:00 p.m., and Ros and I continued the interview in my office, along with Ana and Ros's assistant.

Nothing notable came out of the remainder of the interview, and we even ended a few minutes early, at 6:35. Once Mr. Golding was on his way, Ros and I began to debrief, but we were soon interrupted by a knock at the door. It was past time for my employees to have gone home, so I wasn't sure who it could be. I knew Jason would only interrupt me if there were a pressing threat. Shit! What more could there be?

Surprisingly, it was Holly Steiner who entered when Ana opened the door, and she appeared to have been crying.

"Ms. Steiner," I greeted her more politely than normal, "You're here late, and you seem distressed."

"Yes, sir," she replied. "I… I am sorry for interrupting your meeting, sir, but… I need to tell you…." She began to cry again. "Shit! Oh, damn it, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to use that language. It's just… I promised myself I wasn't going to cry in front of you."

What was this? Another fucking admirer? I didn't have time for this shit. "Did you have something you needed to tell me, Ms. Steiner," I asked impatiently.

Ana stood up, and after giving me a look, she went and got a bottle of water out of my mini-fridge and handed it to Ms. Steiner, along with a box of tissues from the table next to the sofa. Damn, Ana was pissed off at me? Why?

"It's OK, Holly," Ana said comfortingly. "You're safe here."

"Maybe… this was a mistake," Ms. Steiner said uncertainly. "I've already told you about Mr. Hyde, and I'm going to get a reputation with the others. Nobody likes… a whistleblower."

"Who else do you need to blow the whistle on, Holly?" Ros asked. Why did her voice sound so much nicer than mine, even when she was asking the same question I wanted to know?

Ms. Steiner sighed. "Maurice Golding," she said his name as if she were disgusted with the sound of it.

"He was your high school Calculus teacher," Ros recalled.

Ms. Steiner nodded. "Yes, he was. And… he had a habit of… tutoring certain students… girls… after school. I was… one of those girls."

"What did that bastard do to you, Holly?" Ana asked comfortingly.

"Not what you think," she answered. "He never… umm… you know. He groped me. That was as far as it went. I didn't want… that. He promised me… he would make sure I not only passed his class but also got into Advanced Calc the following year and passed it, too. I wanted to be a doctor, to get accepted at Johns Hopkins to be specific, so I needed it. But… when I refused him… I passed his class, but only with a C. I needed a B average to be able to take Advanced Calc. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I don't regret my career choice. I like working here. I was devastated when Jack Hyde fired me and thrilled when you rehired me yesterday. But if you hire that man as CFO, I will have to… I can't keep working here, after all."

Ana made eye contact with me, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. There was no way I could hire Maurice Golding, even if Holly was lying. And I didn't have any reason to believe she was lying. Everything about her story rang true.

"Is there more about Mr. Golding's experience at your high school that you can tell us?" Ros asked.

Ms. Steiner nodded, "Yeah, he didn't just decide to change his career. He was forced to resign because of another student. Not me. There were other girls, and not all of them refused him. He was a handsome man back then, and… anyway, there was another girl who got pregnant. Rumors were that he was the father. And once that story came out, it turned out that there had been a couple of others in the past… they had gotten abortions, paid for by him. At least that's what... that's what the rumors were. But this girl kept the baby. Her parents insisted on an investigation, and that was what led to Mr. Golding's career change."

Ros nodded and sighed. "Thank you, Holly, for coming forward. It took a lot of courage. And rest assured, this stops here. None of your colleagues will ever know anything about this unless you choose to tell them." Ros looked at me for a moment, apparently saw what she wanted to in my expression, and continued, "We are very happy to have you back here at GEH, even after all you suffered under the supervision of Jack Hyde. And there will be no reason for you to render your resignation anytime soon, I hope. Certainly not over this. We have no intentions of hiring Maurice Golding."

She looked relieved. "Thank you, Ms. Bailey," she replied. "And thank you, Mr. Grey. Again, I'm sorry that I interrupted your meeting, and I appreciate the time you took to listen to me."

"No problem," I replied. I glanced at Ana, considered for a moment how I would feel if that had been her that Maurice Golding had groped, and then I turned back to Ms. Steiner. "And listen... I'm sorry for what happened to you. Even if... he only groped you, as you say. Even if it didn't go further than that, it was still wrong, and you shouldn't have had to deal with that as a high school student."

All of the people in my office were now staring at me in shock. What? Was it not the right thing to say to her? Finally, she spoke. "Thank you for saying that, Mr. Grey. And... I'm glad you rehired me."

Ana walked Ms. Steiner out, and even hugged her as they were going out the door. After Ms. Steiner left, Ros commented, "The Ana Effect looks good on you, Grey."

I just rolled my eyes and didn't respond. For a moment, we just sat there in silence, until Ana returned from seeing Ms. Steiner to the elevator. At that point, Ros and I just looked at one another and sighed. I could see that she felt just as exhausted as I did.

"Well, shit!" Ros exclaimed. "Today was just a total fucking bust, wasn't it?"

"What, you felt the same way about Marta Henderson?" I asked her.

Ros smirked at me. "That woman wanted to jump your bones from the minute she walked through the door. What the hell was she thinking, dressing like that? She wasn't serious."

"I'd reached that same conclusion," I told her.

"We need to get our ducks in a row for tomorrow," Ros said. "We have two candidates who both look pretty fucking good on paper, and both of them had excellent first interviews. I hope to fuck that we can hire one of them."

"Did Sebastian Song get on a plane yet?" I asked Ana, knowing she'd know.

"Yes, he's on the way," she answered. "He'll arrive later tonight. His interview tomorrow afternoon is good to go."

I sighed in relief. "So tomorrow morning is Nathaniel Roggen, same schedule as today, and then Sebastian Song at 2:30. Right?"

"Yes, that's right," Ana answered. "So… it sounds like you guys need to spend a few more minutes getting ready for tomorrow. I don't think you need me for that, do you?"

I smirked at her, "Ana, I always need you." There had never been a more truthful statement than that.

She smirked back at me as she replied, "And you'll always have me." Oh, how I hoped those words were true. "But right now… we're going to be late. Unless I make a quick trip by my apartment and then meet you at the restaurant. If we do that, you have about fifteen minutes to spare before you need to leave. But it will take me at least that long to stop by my place and grab the things I need."

"Ana… I'd feel better if you just waited and let me go with you." Didn't she realize there was a crazy woman out there who wanted to hurt her?

"Umm… I think I'll be going now too, if that's OK," Ros's assistant spoke up. The guy almost never spoke, which was fine with me. In fact, he seemed to be afraid of me, but then again, many of my employees were, which suited me fine. Ros seemed happy with him, so that was all that mattered.

"Sure, Troy, I'll see you tomorrow," Ros answered.

"Christian, I have not one, but TWO bodyguards," Ana reminded me.

"Close Protective Officers," I corrected her.

She smirked, "TWO of them, and they're both armed. I'll be safe. It will only take a few minutes, and then I'll see you at the restaurant with Elliot and Kate."

Against my better judgment, I nodded. I knew I couldn't keep her locked up, no matter how much I preferred to, just for her own protection. "Fine," I muttered. "But Sawyer and Prescott stay with you at all times. All times, Ana," I repeated.

She playfully saluted me. "Yes, sir!"

"Get out of here before I change my mind," I warned her.

She responded by walking over to me and kissing me passionately on the lips, in spite of Ros sitting there watching our every move.

"Don't mind me," Ros said with her typical amused tone.

Ana and I both took Ros at her word and didn't mind her at all. "I love you," I told Ana as I walked her to the door, where I kissed her again.

"I love you, too, Christian," she said breathlessly. "And don't worry. I'll see you in just a few minutes."

How could I not worry? I spoke to both Sawyer and Prescott before they left with Ana, warning both of them not to leave her side for any reason. And then, after another parting kiss, I watched the elevator doors close before I turned to Ros who had watched our entire exchange with amused silence.

"Wow," she said. "The boss man is madly in love."

"That I am," I agreed.

"So… you want to get this discussion over with so you can get back to your girl?" she suggested.

I did, indeed. It only took us about ten minutes to go over the strengths of both candidates for tomorrow and to hammer out a strategy for our interviews. We were just heading out when Jason met me in the outer executive office looking panicked.

"Sir, we've got to go now!" he called out.

"What is it, Jason?" I asked as we rushed into the elevator.

"Ms. Steele is on her way to her apartment as we speak, accompanied by both Sawyer and Prescott. But they have reason to believe… Ms. Williams is inside the apartment."

"What?!" I screamed. "Why the hell are they letting her go inside if… tell them to stop her!"

"They tried, sir," Taylor replied. "Ms. Steele wasn't having it. She insisted that they either go with her or she'd go alone, but she was going inside either way."

As we exited the elevator and ran to my car, I called Ana. She picked up as I got into the car. "Christian, I know what you're going to say. And no, I will NOT wait for you. That bitch is in my apartment! My apartment, Christian! There's no telling what she's done to my stuff! I don't have much in that little apartment, but it's mine, Christian, and I'm not going to just stand here and wait while she's in there doing who knows what!"

"Ana, please!" I yelled, "We're on our way! We'll be there in ten minutes, tops. Just wait for me, baby! She wants to hurt you!"

"She's not going to hurt me, Christian," Ana insisted. "I'll see you when you get here."

With that, she ended the call. She fucking ended the call! I called her back immediately, but it went straight to voicemail. She'd fucking turned off her phone!

"Get Sawyer on the phone!" I commanded Taylor.

"Sir, with all due respect, Sawyer needs to keep focused on Ms. Steele at the moment, and being yelled at by you will only distract him. We'll be there in eight minutes, and meanwhile..." Taylor paused, as if he wasn't sure whether to tell me the next part. "I already have him on the line. I have the entire time. He's been briefing me since we were at Grey House."

"He's fucking fired!" I exclaimed. "They both are!"

"Ms. Steele just entered her apartment, sir," Taylor said. "And we're still seven minutes out."

"Shit!" I screamed.