Chapter 17:Christian's POV

Wednesday, November 23

"Call me Nate," I heard the nasally voice of our interviewee, Nathanial Roggen, say for about the tenth time during our business lunch at the Mile High Club. I wasn't sure if it was just me or if he was really that annoying. I was having a hard day, so maybe it was just me.

Nathanial (AKA Nate) Roggen had just as impressive a resume as the two duds we'd interviewed the previous day, and his first interview had gone just as well as theirs had. Funny, I hadn't noticed how nasally his voice had been then. I was particularly interested in the experience he had working abroad, five years in Shanghai, and two more in Singapore, and he spoke Mandarin fluently. Sadly, I'd been expecting more from this second interview, given his experience and first interview performance. So far, I was underwhelmed. Not completely turned off, but not impressed either.

When we'd begun the interview promptly at 11, Ros had taken charge, as we'd planned. For the first hour, it had been rapid fire questions from her, and then we'd taken a break for lunch. I'd been observing a lot, and speaking very little. That was what I wanted, given my current condition. My shoulder had begun throbbing again sometime between hiring a new head of personal security and beginning Roggen's interview. In spite of that, I was listening intently, and Roggen hadn't said anything in particular that I had any problems with. There was just something about him that grated on my nerves, but I hadn't put my finger on it yet. Like I said earlier, maybe it was just me.

To make matters worse, Ana was still angry with me for some reason. She refused to make eye contact for more than a couple of seconds, and this had been going on since before we left home this morning, when Jason had let the cat out of the bag about Ana not keeping her promise to me yesterday to keep Sawyer and Prescott by her side at all times. I'd been angry when Jason had mentioned Ana's request for Sawyer to let her out at the door of her building. But that anger only lasted about five seconds, because above all, I was afraid. She could have been seriously injured or worse due to her own recklessness.

Very briefly, I missed my life as a Dom. Back then, life had been simple. I gave an order, and it was followed, or a punishment resulted. Part of me even wanted to punish Ana. But as soon as that idea entered my head, I rejected it immediately. No, I didn't want to punish my precious Ana. I loved her exactly as she was. And I could easily forgive her mistake from the day before. But what I couldn't stand was her refusing to look at me. We connected when we made eye contact, and she was messing up our connection right now. And I didn't know why.

On top of everything, even the food pissed me off. The Mile High Club was serving a lunch buffet again today. The food was OK, not excellent, but OK. The real problem was that they were serving us exactly the same options as they had yesterday. Who wanted to eat the same damn food two days in a row? And other than Mr. Roggen (replacing Ms. Henderson from yesterday), all of the same people were attending this lunch again. They should have served different choices today.

I'd only purchased this place a few months ago, and as I looked around, I realized that I clearly hadn't given it enough attention. I hadn't really minded the atmosphere, since my main objective in owning the place was to have a convenient upscale restaurant for business functions, like yesterday and today. But now that I took in my surroundings, I was not happy with what I saw. I wondered how long it had been since the furnishings had been updated. Granted, the panoramic view of Seattle's skyline compensated for the lack of polish inside the restaurant. But even the tablecloths looked gaudy. Whose idea had orange floral been? And the artwork looked like cheap reproductions. The place really needed an overhaul, beginning with the menu, but not ending there, by any means. I needed to have words with the manager. Anybody worth their salt would know that you don't serve the same people the same shit two days in a row. And that orange floral needed to go.

Speaking of having words, I was hoping that I'd find a moment to speak with Ana privately, but so far, it hadn't been possible. Even on the drive to the Mile High, we'd been in the same car as Roggen, so we hadn't had a moment alone together. And it didn't appear we would until this damn interview was over.

And now, Mr. Annoying was talking to my girl.

"I should thank you, Ana. If it weren't for you, I'm not sure my husband would approve of our potential move to Seattle. He's originally from Miami, where we live now, so it will be a big change for him. I'm from North Dakota myself, so this will be closer to home for me."

Oh, OK. He was gay and married. Now that he mentioned it, I remembered that from his background report. I guess I didn't need to be so protective of Ana around him.

Ana was ever her polite self. "That is a long move. About as far as you can move in the continental United States. But I don't understand why you're thanking me. What did I have to do with it?"

Roggen glanced at me, and I'm not sure whether I was supposed to overhear his next words or not, but I did. He should have realized I'd be paying attention.

"All the media attention to you and Mr. Grey has been good for us. My husband and me, I mean. Before the news broke about you guys being in a relationship, we both thought he was gay. And my husband is... how should I put it? The jealous type. He was pretty insecure about me working with such a hottie. But now that we know he's straight, all is well."

Umm... a hottie? My potential CFO, a gay married man, had just called me "a hottie" to my girlfriend, at a business lunch, his own job interview in fact, with me sitting right there. Seriously?

Ana was her usual magnificent self in her response to this moron. "Well, I can understand that, and I agree wholeheartedly that he is... a hottie."

God, I so wanted her to look at me at that moment, but she didn't. Instead, in Ana-style, she perfectly steered the conversation. "So, how does your husband feel about the change in climate? Seattle is quite different than Miami, weather wise."

"Oh, he'll be fine," Roggen replied. "We met in Boston, where we both lived at the time. If he can tolerate Boston winters, he can tolerate anything."

"Well, I've never been to Boston, but I've heard about the weather," Ana commented. And I'd had all I could take.

"Ana... I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation." No, I wasn't sorry at all. Just being overly polite to make up for my rudeness. Yes, I realized I was being rude. "Can I have a word with you?"

Ana looked at me in concern, but she didn't have a chance to speak, because Mr. Roggen spoke instead. "Oh, no problem! I need to mingle anyway." With that, he got up and hopped away to another table. Yes, hopped. He reminded me of the Energizer bunny. At least he understood the purpose of this lunch, and he was doing a pretty good job of "mingling," as he called it. I had to give him credit for that.

I took Ana's left hand with my own left hand, a bit awkward, but I didn't want to inadvertently hurt her. Even though nobody else could see her injury, I knew it was there. Ana rose from her seat and followed me into the empty private room next door. As soon as I closed the door behind us, I pulled her into my arms. I didn't kiss her; I just held her. At first, she seemed confused by my behavior, but after a second, she relaxed into my arms, with her head on my chest. And then... she began to sob.

Why was she crying? I must have done something to hurt her, but for the life of me, I didn't know what it was. I didn't ask her right away. Instead, I just held her and let her cry, I caressed her back and kissed her hair lightly. My Ana. I loved her so fucking much. I'd do anything for this woman. Anything.

Finally, she lifted her head and looked up at me with watery eyes. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Whatever for?" I asked her gently.

"You... you're mad at me. I know I fucked up yesterday. I shouldn't have asked Luke to stop the car in front of my building. I promised you..."

She was still thinking about that? "Shh..." I stopped her speaking with my finger to her lips. "I'm not mad at you, Princess. I love you, and I'm not mad at you."

"But... you looked so angry," she said weakly. "When Jason mentioned it this morning... you were so angry."

"I was," I admitted. "For a few seconds. After that, I was just... afraid. If something happened to you, I really don't know what I'd do."

"I thought... I thought you didn't believe me when I promised I would be careful about security from now on, because I didn't keep my promise yesterday. But I'm serious, Christian. I won't forget again."

"I know," I told her. "You were reckless yesterday, but I know you won't do it again. I know you'll listen to your CPOs from now on. It's OK. Is that the only reason you've been ignoring me all day?"

"I haven't been ignoring you," she objected. "I just... I knew if I looked at you... Well, look at me now. I'm a hot mess."

"I'll agree with the hot part," I told her, and then I kissed her. Finally, our connection was there again. I didn't let the kiss get too heated because of where we were. When I ended it, I whispered, "Your lips are so soft when you've been crying. I don't like it when you cry, but I love your soft lips."

She giggle snorted. Then she said, "Speaking of hot. Did you hear what Nate said about you?"

I snorted. "You mean when he called me a 'hottie' and thanked you for letting his husband know I'm taken?"

Her smile was radiant after the tears she'd just shed, like a rainbow after a storm. "I hope you don't hold that against him," she said. "I mean... he did have a good point. You ARE a hottie."

"It wasn't very professional of him to say such a thing at a job interview," I responded.

"He was being sociable," Ana defended.

"You can be sociable and still be professional," I argued.

"You don't like him," Ana accused me.

"I'm not sure about him," I admitted. "I don't dislike him, but I don't like him as much as I did after his first interview. His voice gets on my nerves. Then again, I'm in a bad mood, so everything is getting on my nerves."

Ana studied me for a moment, looking concerned. "You're in pain. You know that Ros can finish the interviews without you, right?"

I shook my head, which made my shoulder hurt worse. "She can't. She's going to burn out if I keep piling so much shit on her. I promised her I'd be part of this process. And I can do it, Ana. It's just a few more hours. Then, I promise, I'll take it easy for the rest of the week."

Ana nodded. "At least this one is almost over, and then we have a short break before Sebastian Song's interview."

Yes, but that short break was only half an hour, not much of a break at all. But at least we were ready for him. We could use the break as a real break, not prep time for Song's interview. Sure, there were plenty of other things we needed to be doing at the moment, like checking with security for an update on Hyde. And Lincoln. But it could all wait. I had a good team, I was confident about that. And I was tired. And in pain. And I needed some quality time with my girl.

Ana and I rejoined the lunch group a few minutes later and had dessert... the same damn cheesecake that they'd served yesterday. I really needed to give the manager a piece of my mind. Then, we returned to Grey House, where we wrapped up Nathaniel Roggen's interview.

After he left, Ros shrugged her shoulders and asked if we could discuss him later, after Sebastian Song's interview. I was happy with that. Ros didn't seem very impressed either. I think we both were hoping that Sebastian Song would knock our socks off.

But first, Ana and I finally had that moment to ourselves. I sat down on the sofa in my office and propped my feet up on the glass coffee table while Ana went into my ensuite restroom. A moment later, she was back with some white pills and a bottle of water from my fridge.

"Take these," she directed me. "It's just Tylenol. But it will help."

"Thanks," I said, and I took the pills and water. The cool water was refreshing. Damn, I was tired.

"Can we lie down on the couch?" Ana asked.

I didn't have to say anything, I just did as she suggested. A moment later, we were spooning on the sofa. I kissed the top of her head and sniffed her hair. I loved the smell of Ana.

"Grey! Oh, shit!" Ros's voice started me awake. I blinked my eyes and slowly became aware of where I was. My office. I'd fallen asleep on my sofa with Ana.

"What's wrong, Ros?" Ana asked sleepily as she sat up.

"Oh. Nothing," Ros answered, sounding more calm. "Thank God you're both dressed. I really didn't want to walk in on that."

"Oh, shit, it's already 2:30. We fell asleep," Ana pointed out the obvious.

"Is Song here?" I asked Ros.

"He's in the small conference room. Been there about five minutes now. You ready?" she asked.

I finally sat up on the sofa. "Go make small talk with him. Ana and I will be there in five minutes."

"Don't go back to sleep, boss man," Ros told me with a smirk.

"I won't, smart ass," I told her as she was leaving. Then I went and used the bathroom and splashed water on my face, not an easy thing to do with only one hand. Ana used the facilities as soon as I was finished. When she came out of the bathroom, she looked fresh and wide awake. Not sure how she'd achieved that. I sure didn't feel that way.

When Ana and I entered the conference room, Ros and her assistant were there, and they were making small talk with Mr. Song.

"I actually considered Berkeley, but I'm happy I got accepted into Harvard," Ros was saying.

"It was never a question for me," Song said. "With my mom being on staff at Berkeley, my tuition was covered. Besides, I wanted to attend Berkeley for undergrad. And I have my Harvard degrees..." He stopped talking when we walked in, but I understood the gist of their conversation. Sebastian Song went to UC Berkeley for his undergraduate degree, and then he had two master's degrees from Harvard Business School. I already knew all that.

"Mr. Song. It's good to see you again," I greeted him.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Grey. And I apologize again for not getting here yesterday."

"Nonsense," I told him. "You can't control the weather in Chicago."

He laughed. "No... no, I can't. That's one of the reasons I'm moving away from there. Winters in Chicago are dreadful. They don't call it 'the windy city' for nothing."

"You already have plans to move then?" I asked. Kind of putting the cart before the horse, in my opinion. Then again, I also knew from his background report that he'd recently broken up with his girlfriend of two years, who lived in Chicago. That probably had something to do with his eagerness to move, too, but he wasn't going to talk about his personal life at this job interview.

"I do," he affirmed. "My first choice, of course, is to move here to Seattle and work for you. But if you go with someone else for this position, I'm still planning to move back to the West Coast. I'll probably end up in Silicon Valley, although I'd rather not. But it would beat Chicago."

I nodded and glanced at Ros. She was supposed to take the lead with this interview, just as she had with Roggen. She took the hint from me and started asking the same questions she'd asked Roggen a couple of hours ago.

I wouldn't say that he knocked my socks off exactly, but I'm not sure that was even possible on a day like today. I was satisfied with his answers, I'll say that much. But how would he perform in the cocktail hour? I knew that Mr. Song was a child prodigy. He'd graduated from high school early, and as Ana pointed out yesterday, he already had two master's degrees before he was legal drinking age. Two master's degrees from Harvard Business School. Impressive. But I knew it was often the case that people like Mr. Song didn't socialize well with their peers. How would he be at leading the Finance team?

And this was where Sebastian Song actually did knock my socks off. For one thing, he already knew everyone's name. Mr. Song had clearly prepared well for this interaction with the Finance team. He'd gone to the GEH website, to the staff page, and memorized the names and positions of all the people who would be attending this social hour. He greeted each one of them cordially by name, and he asked questions that were general enough not to sound intrusive but pointed enough to show that he was aware of their specific job responsibilities. I could see from Ros's expression that she was just as impressed as I was.

Sebastian Song was also a very good listener. He made eye contact, smiled appropriately, and responded well to questions. I could see that the finance team members were impressed with him. More impressed than with any of the other candidates. We have a winner here, I thought to myself.

And then, he impressed me even further in our follow-up after the cocktail hour by his suggestions regarding compliance.

It all started when Ros and I had concluded asking all of our questions, and we asked him if he had any. Mr. Song started asking us pointed questions about Jack Hyde's actions which at first made me uncomfortable, but once he explained himself, I was all ears.

As he spoke with us, I recalled from his background report that he'd studied pre-law at Berkeley, and he'd been accepted into the Law School there for the JD program. It appeared that he'd started Law School at Berkeley, but he'd dropped out during his first semester. Then, he'd moved to Boston, where he'd begun his MBA, following it with a Master's in Finance.

Since I was certain at this point that I was going to hire Mr. Song as my new CFO, I was forthcoming. I explained how our compliance officer was in on Hyde's plot, and had actually helped him cover up his crimes. Ros had fired both of them the same day, and both of them were now being investigated by the FBI.

Then, Song began to make recommendations. First of all, having one person in charge of compliance was a mistake, he said. Due to the size of our company, we needed an entire compliance department. We needed to hire or promote a VP of Compliance who oversaw a team of people who all had backgrounds in corporate law.

Song was also surprised that we only performed one audit a year. He said that the first change he would make as CFO would be to initiate quarterly audits, two internal and two external per year. He also insisted that the VP of Compliance, the internal auditors, and the outside auditors were all to report to all three of us, to insure accountability.

By the time we ended our interview, it was nearly 6 p.m., and I was exhausted. I glanced at Ros, saw what I needed to see, and decided to share the good news with Mr. Song.

"So, when can you start?" I asked him.

He smiled. "Actually, I already gave my notice in Chicago about a month ago. I have no plans to return there. How does Monday sound?"

Ros was just as surprised as I was. "Don't you have to move?" she asked.

"I've already either gotten rid of my old stuff or packed it up and put it in storage," he explained. "I hated Chicago, so I couldn't wait to get away from there. If you hadn't chosen me for this job, I would have extended my visit to Berkeley, where I'm going tomorrow, and then continued job hunting from there. But I wasn't looking forward to that prospect. This is my dream job. Thank you for choosing me. I am very excited about starting work here at GEH."

"Are you saying you already have a place to live here in Seattle?" I clarified.

"Well, no, but it shouldn't take too long to find one. I can stay in a hotel until then," he replied.

I already had an apartment he could move into right away, in Escala. I owned about a dozen units in the building. He had stayed in one of them last night, as had Nathaniel Roggen. I kept them for this very purpose, but I didn't need them all for business associates. If he wanted to live there, I could include it in his benefits. If he was able to straighten out the clusterfuck that Jack Hyde had created, it would be well worth it.

"What did you think of the place you stayed last night?" I asked him.

"It was a comfortable apartment," he replied. "But just a one-bedroom, which was more than enough for the purposes of this interview. But the place I lease will need two bedrooms so my mother can have a room. There's no doubt she'll visit me often."

"I have a two-bedroom available on the ninth floor," I revealed. "It's already furnished, but the furniture can be removed if you have your own stuff you want to ship from Chicago. We can build it into your benefits package."

"Really? That's fantastic. Yeah, I do have a few things I'll want to ship here eventually, but not furniture. Thank you. It'll be good to be able to focus on my new job without the hassle of finding an apartment."

Well, GEH was definitely going to need all of his attention. I was extremely relieved that we now had a new Chief Financial Officer, and he seemed very capable. Thank fuck!

We walked out of the conference room together, seeing Mr. Song off, and as we made small talk, we learned that he was taking an early morning flight to Oakland, where he was going to spend Thanksgiving with his mother, who was still a professor at Berkeley, before he returned to Seattle on Sunday.

"I'll send the rejection letters to the other three on Monday," Ros said. "I think we should call it a night, boss man. We've earned this holiday."

"We have," I agreed. I glanced at Ana, who smiled back at me. I knew she was tired, but she was holding up incredibly well. "Let's go home," I told her.

Home. How long did I need to wait before I asked Ana to move in with me? Surely, she knew she couldn't go back to that apartment. The apartment that I still needed to hire a team to clean up, after my ex-sub made a mess of Ana's personal property.

"You're quiet," Ana commented as we rode the elevator down to the parking garage, avoiding the paps again. "I can almost see the wheels in your brain turning. What are you thinking about?"

I smiled. "I'm relieved. We have a new CFO." I couldn't tell her what I was really thinking about.

"Liar," she accused me. "Not that you're not relieved about your new CFO, but that's not what you were thinking about."

"And how would you know that?" I asked her.

She responded by touching my face, right between my eyes, and rubbing that spot softly. "You get this wrinkle between your eyes when you're worried or confused. You wouldn't be worried or confused about hiring Sebastian Song to be your new CFO."

Damn, I had a tell? And she did the same damn thing when she was confused.

"So, what were you really thinking about?" she pressed.

Well, if she insisted... OK, then. "I was wondering how long I needed to wait before I ask you to move in with me. I knew if I asked you too soon, you'd balk at the idea. You'd give me some shit about us not dating long enough yet."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. And then, the elevator doors opened. Of course, Jason, Sawyer, and the new girl, Cornwall, were all with us. They escorted us to our SUV.

Once we were safely in the car and driving towards Escala, Ana turned to me. She took my left hand in hers and said softly in my ear. "I'll think about it."

She'd think about moving in with me? It wasn't a no? Really? OK, I needed to play this right. If I pressured her, the "maybe" would become a "no." I told her in as calmly as I could, "Good. But, whatever you decide, you can't go back to your apartment. You realize that, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I get it." She sounded sad. "It turns out that it wasn't as secure as I thought it was. I didn't know the security guards have keys. It creeps me out that Tyler has a key to my apartment. I mean, I'm sure they'll be overly diligent about security after what happened, but still... I know I can't live there again."

"Hey... don't be sad, baby. If you... if you want to live somewhere else, I'll make arrangements. You already know that I own other units in Escala. We can easily move you into one of them." But that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted her in my bed, every night, for the rest of my life.

She sighed. Then she leaned over and kissed my cheek, chastely. "Give me a few days to think about it, OK?"

I didn't understand her behavior at all, but of course I could give her a few days to decide whether to move in with me or not. I'd learned by now that when Ana asked for a few days, that was exactly what she meant. Meanwhile, I needed to ask Gail to rearrange the clothes in my closet to make room for Ana's. And I needed to hire Carolyn Acton to order a whole new wardrobe for Ana to replace the clothes she'd lost.

I'd never been happier to walk into my penthouse than I was that night. Gail had dinner ready for us and was just waiting for us before she set the table. Sometimes, I like to eat right away, and other times I prefer to take a shower first. Tonight, I would let Ana decide.

"After that lunch and cocktails, I'm not really hungry yet," she said. "Can we go soak in the bathtub first?"

Could we ever. The truth was, Ana had hardly eaten anything at lunch or during the cocktail hour, nor had I eaten much myself. I could definitely eat now. But taking a bath with my Ana was so much more appealing. Yes, excellent suggestion, and I told her so.

We had to wear those plastic things on our shoulders again, but that wasn't a problem. In spite of my aching shoulder, it felt so good to relax in the tub with my naked Ana. At first, we just relaxed. We chatted about the day, steering clear of any talk about Hyde or Lincoln. We focused on the positive. And then, I kissed her neck.

"Christian... oh my... That feels good."

Her words spurred me on, and soon we were making out like teenagers. Well, as much as we could with our sore shoulders. I didn't let mine deter me; in fact, I forgot all about that ache that had been bothering me all day, because I had a different ache that needed to be addressed. God, she tasted good. I was careful not to hurt her, but the way she was getting into it, she clearly wasn't thinking about her shoulder either. The noises she was making were making me even harder, if that were possible.

And the way she scratched my face as she rode me... I could really get used to that. I couldn't decide what I wanted to look at more, her breasts as they bounced, or her eyes as we connected, like always. But her hands on my face as she gazed at me with adoration... I loved that. Ana touching me was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. I didn't even know how to describe how she made me feel.

And as we came together, there in the bathtub, I knew she was feeling the same damn thing I was. I could see it in her eyes. I really needed to marry her. I really needed her in my life... forever.

"I like this," she told me as she scratched my face. We were still in the tub, even though the water had gotten cold. Neither of us wanted to move after we'd come down from our explosive climaxes.

"Should I grow a beard?" I asked her. I really wanted to know what she liked. I'd let my beard grow to the floor if that's what she wanted.

She shook her head. "No. I like you clean-shaven too. You look hot with a clean shave and your Armani suit. But this... I like how it feels. It's scratchy. You should keep it for a few days. Maybe just for Thanksgiving."

"So... you think I'm a hottie?" I teased her, recalling that idiot Nate Roggen from earlier in the day.

"Oh, Mr. Grey. You are such a hottie. Like you don't know."

I smiled at her. She made me so damn happy. "I have an idea, Ana, but we have to get out of the tub for it."

"I'm going to turn into a raisin if I stay in here much longer anyway," she said as she got up and grabbed her towel.

"Well, we can't have that," I teased as I followed her, taking the towel that she offered me. I think I did a pretty damn good job of drying off with only one hand, all while watching her beautiful body. We helped each other remove the plastic bandage cover things. And then, I took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

"What are you doing, Christian?" she asked. "Are you hungry?"

"Oh, yes, I'm hungry all right," I answered as I lay down in the middle of the bed. "Come sit on my face, Ana."

She stared at me in shock, but then she caught on quickly. She scrambled onto the bed and said excitedly, "You want to do a 69?" God, she was adorable.

"You know what that is?" I asked her, surprised.

"I'm inexperienced, Christian, but I don't live under a rock."

Neither of us said another word, because the next moment, she lowered her sweet pussy onto my face, and I was ready for her. And then, she leaned over and licked my dick in one long swipe. Holy shit! And the next thing I knew, she had my entire dick in her mouth, down her throat. Good God, she was deep-throating me.

"Ana, shit! Slow down, baby. I'm not going to last if you keep doing that."

She spit me out and said, "God, Christian. The way your whiskers feel on my thigh. Oh my God." Her words encouraged me to rub my face against her creamy thighs as I licked her clit again.

She moaned in approval, but then she latched onto me again. She sucked and licked my head, mimicking what I was doing to her clit. And then, she swallowed me again. Holy fucking shit!

Her adorable little moans alerted me that she was coming. Thank fuck! I didn't want to embarrass myself again, but once I felt her juices dripping down my face, I let myself erupt down her throat. She swallowed it all. Holy shit! This girl had only just had sex for the first time just a couple of days ago, and she was already deep-throating me. She gave the best damn head I'd ever had, bar none.

And she was so damn delicious. I would never get my fill of her.

"I like the 69," she told me as we were lying on the bed, catching our breath. "Little Grey is delicious all the time, but when we were in sync like that... That was amazing."

"Matilda is pretty damn delicious herself," I told her. Understatement of the year. I wasn't sure what to say to her about her stellar blowjob skills. I was still processing that.

Dinner was delicious, too. Since we were going to Thanksgiving dinner at my parents' house for lunch tomorrow, Gail had kept things light tonight. Chicken Caesar Salad, with her homemade croutons. Somehow, Gail always knew exactly what we needed.

I hadn't stopped thinking about that 69, and as we finished our dinner I was just about to suggest a repeat performance when my phone rang. It was a FaceTime call from my sister, whom I hadn't heard from since she arrived earlier today. I knew that Mom was supposed to pick her up at the airport, but I'd been too busy to check on them.

"Meems! Welcome back!" I greeted as I took the call.

Mia didn't look happy to see me. "Christian, what the fuck is going on?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Did Aunt Elena molest you?" Whoa! Mia and I had always been direct, but this was too much, even for us.

"What? Why? What did Mom tell you?" I asked.

"Not much, but she's been weird all day, and then out of the blue, she asked me if Elena had ever hurt me."

"Has she?" I asked.

"What?" Mia sounded confused.

"Has Elena ever hurt you?" I clarified.

"No, of course not! She's like an aunt to me. But... You didn't answer my question, Christian. Did she...? Did Elena molest you?" She was looking at me critically, trying to read my expression, and I knew that I'd already given myself away. She was just waiting me for to admit it.

I sighed. This was not the first conversation I wanted to have with my sister upon her return, and certainly not on the phone, even if it was FaceTime.

"Hi, Mia!" Ana greeted my sister, providing the distraction to Mia's question that I needed at the moment. "How was your flight?"

Mia finally smiled. "I'm happy to see you, Ana. And my flight was good. Christian sent his jet, so I didn't have to fly commercial."

"Are you really preparing all the food for tomorrow after only arriving today?" Ana asked her.

"It's all under control," Mia assured her. "The turkeys are in the smoker, and dessert is ready to go too. The rest can wait until tomorrow morning."

"I'm really looking forward to it, and so is my dad," Ana told her.

"Me too, Ana," she replied. "Now... would it be OK for me to have a private conversation with my brother. I'm sorry, but this is important."

I took the phone back from Ana. "Mia, Ana already knows, so it doesn't have to be a private conversation. Look... I didn't want to tell you like this, but you're pretty damn insistent."

"Oh, my God, she did molest you!" Mia muttered. "Of course she did. It's the only explanation that makes sense. But I didn't want to believe it. Aunt Elena, of all people! What happened, Christian?"

I cleared my throat, preparing for this uncomfortable conversation. "I didn't see it that way at the time. As molesting me, I mean. I was 15, and I thought she was... helping me."

"She had sex with you when you were 15?!" Mia exclaimed.

"Yes, Mia, and at the time, I thought I was consenting. I didn't understand until... well, until recently, actually, that a 15-year-old can't consent." I hoped I didn't have to go into more detail than that with my beloved sister.

Mia stared at me, and amazingly, she wasn't crying. She was just staring, and for the life of me, I couldn't read her expression. Was she angry with me? Disgusted? Had I just lost her?

"So... this explains a lot," she finally said. "I didn't want to believe it. I had to hear it from you. But it's the only explanation for what happened today."

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

"Elena was here earlier this afternoon. I answered the door, and she told me she was here to talk to Mom about the gala on Saturday, that she was helping her with it. I invited her in. Big mistake, but how was I supposed to know? As soon as Mom saw her, she... Christian, I've never seen Mom behave this way before. She went after her."

"What do you mean 'went after her'?" I clarified. Was my proper mother stooping to violence? And why was I only just now hearing about it?

"I think she would have strangled her if Dad and I hadn't intervened," Mia answered. "Her hands were around her throat, and I don't think she would have let go if we hadn't stopped her. She called her a pedophile, among other things. So... I deduced that she'd done something to you. You were the only one of us that made sense. And Mom would only have gotten that angry if it were one of us. Honestly, I've never seen her that angry, Christian, so it had to have been one of us."

Indeed. "Yeah, I only told them about it last night, so I'm sure that was the first time Mom had seen Elena since finding out about it. I was afraid something like this might happen."

"Yeah, so after Elena left, Dad invoked a promise pebble," Mia revealed. I knew immediately what she was talking about, but Ana didn't.

"What's a promise pebble?" Ana asked.

I turned and explained to Ana, "When we were growing up, Mom and Dad would make each other promises using these pebbles. They'd given them to each other on their first year wedding anniversary. They collected them from the beach where they spent their vacation, and over the years, they used them sparingly, on really rare occasions. It was something they treated with reverence. And that's just how they'd put it. 'I'm invoking a promise pebble.' That meant that the other one had to make the promise, no exceptions. They'd make a bit of a ceremony of it, throwing the pebble in the Sound as they made the promise."

Mia added, "Yeah, and they each only had a dozen of them. And Christian, this was Dad's twelfth promise. His last one."

"What was the promise?" I asked.

"Mom had to promise that she wouldn't go over to Elena's house and kick her ass. Or even speak with her, and especially not do anything violent. No confrontation with Elena Lincoln. Period."

"Wow, Dad was afraid Mom was going to go to her house and do something violent?" I mean, I wasn't surprised she was angry, but our mother is never violent. She's never condoned violence. Ever.

"You didn't see her, Christian. I think she would have killed Elena with her bare hands if Dad and I hadn't stopped her. It shocked the hell out of all of us, especially Elena herself."

"Yeah, I'll just bet it did," I muttered.

Mia was quiet again, staring at me with that unreadable look again. Finally she said quietly, "So... I'm sorry that happened to you, Christian. I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me?"

I explained, "Mia, you were only ten at the time that it started. And besides, I didn't tell anyone. I didn't see it as abuse at the time. I truly thought she was helping me. I see it more clearly now, how she groomed me and how manipulative she was. But it took me a really long time to be able to see that."

Mia nodded in understanding, but then she asked, "Why did you wait until last night to tell Mom and Dad?"

"Well, that's another long story," I answered. "But to make a long story short, she's threatening Ana, and she's dangerous."

"What!" Mia exclaimed. "Why is she threatening Ana?"

"Because she's an evil bitch, and she's jealous of Ana. Because I'm in love with Ana, and she can't stand it."

Mia stared at me again, and this time I was able to read her expression. Awe. "You're in love..." And then, the tears did come. Amazingly, through this entire conversation, she'd held it together. But as soon as I admitted my feelings for Ana, Mia lost it. It was confusing as hell.