My dear little broccolisđź’šđź’šđź’š
đź’šSweetie, Let Me Give You The Daddyđź’š
"The best investment I ever made, was when I lost fifty million dollars and met the love of my life as a result of that."
‼️Rated M - {Out Of Characters/All Human/Alternate Universe}‼️
‼️Romance/Angst/Drama/Lemons‼️
‼️AS/CG/The Greys/The Steeles/José Rodriguez/Grace Grey‼️
đź’šNow, in case it wasn't clear, this will be a Christian POV story. and I know you will want Ana's PoV, but it will just be Christian.
đź’š READ & REVIEW, DON'T BE A SILENT READER đź’š
Chapter 11: Poppies (5,3K)
About this title, Poppies are the flowers of remembrance, but also of wild imagination, beauty, extravagance and success. It may seem as off-topic, but seeds (pun non-intended) are planted in this chapter that shall sprout later in the story…
Christian woke up the next morning with barely an hour of sleep under his belt. The sun was nearly up, but as Grace moved yet again and unknowingly slapped him, he decided to finally get up. Now, he understood why Ana had insisted on taking their daughter back to her own room. This was by far the worst night he ever had, and any feeling of peace and wellbeing he felt about the idea of sleeping with his daughter was completely gone.
Not only did she talk in her sleep like her mother did, but she moved as if she was practising some form of martial arts in her sleep. At first, he had thought that she would calm down and remain still once she fell into a deeper sleep, but every time he himself had started falling asleep, he received a kick in the stomach or a slap in the face. And on top of that, she emanated heat like a nuclear core. Several times throughout the night he woke up because of a heatwave (the rare occurrence when he wasn't hit by his daughter).
He got out of bed, making sure that Grace was properly tucked in as he saw, unsurprisingly, that Ana's side of the bed was empty, and a small smile spread his lips. No matter how terrible of a night it had been, he couldn't stay mad at Grace.
He pondered on the idea of working for the couple of hours of quiet he had before Grace woke up, but when he smelled food, he decided otherwise. He went to the kitchen and found Ana in front of the stove, making French toasts and shaking her ass to the music that was playing on low volume. Without thinking about it, he went to her and hugged her from behind, kissing her neck and whined, "Remind me to never question you again."
"How was your first family sleep?" She asked with a smug chuckle, and he tightened his hold on her as she flipped the French toast.
"I learned my lesson. From now on, I will always listen to you," he promised, staying in the same position as he softly kissed her neck.
"Well, at least now you are in the club of parents who have had sleepless nights because of their kids' antics."
"This was the worst night of sleep I have ever had."
She chuckled again, and got out of his embrace, only to present him with a glass of freshly pressed orange juice. "Here, I'm sure this will wake you up."
He took the glass and kissed her cheek before leaning against the counter as she kept making French toasts. He mindlessly took a sip, all the while thinking that the orange juice was not going to be enough, and he would have to start a pot of coffee. But as soon as the drink was in his oesophagus, he felt like he was drinking fire.
He coughed, almost letting go of the glass and staring at Ana, with her small smug smirk that hadn't disappeared.
"What is that?" He asked because it was anything but orange juice since that didn't burn one's throat!
"Two oranges, a finger of ginger, and a pinch of cayenne pepper."
"Oh, so after I was deprived of sleep, you thought the best way to wake me up was to try and kill me?"
She laughed and switched off the gas under her pan before putting the stack of French toasts in a warm oven. "Well, you're awake, now, aren't you? You should drink it all, it will give you a boost for the rest of the day."
"And what's wrong with good old American coffee, instead of witch concoctions that burn a hole in my throat?"
She shrugged, but Christian saw the playfulness disappear from her eyes. He watched as she uselessly busied herself cleaning the utensils she had used to make breakfast; after all, he had told her that he had a maid and that he would rather if she didn't do any domestic tasks when she was at his place. When she passed by him another time, he stopped her, his eyes asking what was wrong.
She smiled sweetly and pecked his lips, before regaining possession of her arm and keeping at her useless task, though this time she explained, "It's just that it took months for Grace to sleep throughout the night, or even four hours straight. And I couldn't decently drink coffee or otherwise, I would have ended up with a super active baby. So… well, I did my research, and this drink came up. And it's extremely healthy, full of vitamins and nutrients."
For a moment Christian remained silent, continuing to drink his devil drink as the burn wasn't so bad now that he was expecting it. His eyes remained on Ana, who was now setting the table for breakfast. She was still in her pyjamas, an overlarge shirt with some baggy trousers, and he remembered how she used to always sleep in sateen-like materials. Or at least when she was sleeping by his side.
"Ana… I know I missed a lot. But… you shouldn't always try to spare my feelings. You should tell me of the hard times you had. Isn't it what we want? An open and honest relationship?"
"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just … I've just never gotten used to relying on people."
"Tell me about it," he retorted, rolling his eyes.
They both sat at the breakfast table, drinking their fiery orange juice as the sun kept rising on the horizon, and Ana noticed, "You and your views."
"I like what's beautiful," he admitted, glancing her way and looking at a whole other kind of beauty created by Mother Nature.
"Does that mean that you always intend on living in apartments? You can't really get skyscraper views from a nice house in the suburbs."
"Do you want a nice house in the suburbs? Because I can get Andrea to find us a house in the Hamptons."
"First of all, it's ridiculous. Grace is about to start school here in Manhattan. Secondly, that's not what I said. I asked about you. I never said anything about me."
"I know. I'm the one asking about you. I never really cared about where I slept, as long as I had a nice view over breakfast."
Christian hated coming to New York, but no matter how many times he had tried, he had never been able to make Raymond Wilks move to Seattle. Even with the sweet promise of a fifty per cent salary bump and all expenses covered for the first year. He couldn't understand why his lawyer liked this city so much.
But since the man was refusing to move, he had to come to this ratchet city every time he would travel internationally for a new contract, or when he was taking over some other less fortunate company. Still, over the past few months, something pleasant had come out of his frequent visits to Esclava. The breakfast.
Christian had always come to Esclava because it offered the best view in the city, and the service was always impeccable. He even started renting the penthouse permanently when he realised that he had many impromptu visits over the year, and he didn't want to be relegated to some other room. It wasn't the room that mattered to him, but the view.
No matter where he was in the world, he always allowed himself a couple of minutes at some point during the day to overlook the scenery and just enjoy the view. Usually, when he was in New York, he did it over breakfast, and this was where the pleasant change came in place.
Over the many years he had been using this hotel as a second residence, Madame Elena and he had come to an arrangement. She would get the person responsible for room service to deliver the food whilst he was in the shower (or the gym, depending on his mood) and they would leave the food by the coffee table.
But one day, unexpectedly, his breakfast tray had been set at the table that overlooked New York, saving him the bother of doing it himself. He never asked Elena to change anything in their routine, so he assumed that it was an initiative that came from the person delivering the room service. After all, his work papers were always on that table.
And over the months that followed, he often had sweet little surprises. The extra bottle of mineral water when he would arrive in New York, the little vase with flowers that would come occasionally, the little cards when it was a national holiday. And though he never instructed Elena on these details, and they were bumps in his neatly planned routine, they were very welcome.
In fact, he had managed to find a pattern and find out that whoever was leaving those little details for him was not working on certain days, because the tray would be on the coffee table on those days, bland and insipid. But the fact remained, the person responsible for the room service in Esclava was making his trips to New York slightly more pleasant.
Christian shook himself out of the memory, thinking of how Ana had always been selfless, even when she didn't know him, and he was simply a faceless client of a hotel she worked for. He never really saw it like that before, but now that he was remembering those times, he realised that Ana had always been a giver more than a taker.
It was something that seemed deeply seated inside her. For instance, she loved to give presents to people, himself included, but always fussed when it was her turn to receive presents. She had always been involved in charity, giving everything she had for those less fortunate than her. The rare times they walked together in the streets, Ana had always stopped to give what she had to homeless people, even though she was already giving her time at the shelter. And even now, she was always trying to spare his feelings, and make sure that Grace and he developed a proper relationship. Even sexually, every time they had been intimate, he had to assert that he wanted to give more than receive for her to let him lead. Though he didn't complain about the outcome of Friday afternoon.
He was torn out of his thoughts by Grace running to the kitchen, calling out for both Ana and him, her eyes still heavy with sleep. Ana got up and kissed her daughter good morning, asking her if she slept well.
"Yes. But then I woke up and you two left me all alone. Christian's bed is too big for one person. Why do you have such a big bed?" She accused, not understanding his need for a bed so big.
"It's so you can jump in bed when a storm comes in."
The little girl nodded as her mother sat her at the table, and she let Christian know, as if sharing a secret, "Mama always puts me back in my bed. Her bed is bigger than mine, but it's not as big as yours."
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
For the rest of the morning, Christian spent time with the girls, though he categorically refused to put on the green 'goop'. Apparently, it was a tradition that they did over the weekend: they pampered themselves over a movie, and since they had missed it the past weekend, Ana didn't want Grace to think that coming to his place meant messing up their routine. So, he watched Coco with them, and as Ana had said, it dealt very well with the concept of death and after-life. In fact, Christian was surprised that a children's cartoon had based its entire plot on death.
Still, he appreciated the movie and even more watching his girls pamper themselves. Ana made sure that they did it all: they both had their hair wrapped up in a towel, with some hair mask beneath it. They both had their green clay on their faces, and their toes spread by some spongy device so they could easily cut their nails. And of course, they were in bathrobes, drinking some celery juice (with a stick in each of their glasses, obviously)
Ana had tried to get Christian to join them, but he thanked his lucky stars that he had gotten ready early and therefore could claim there was no use in him doing it. Which earned him a very judgmental look from his daughter as she declared that he would not get glowing skin if he didn't put the green mud on.
And to make it worse, halfway through the movie, Ana received a picture of Jose and Karl doing the exact same thing as them, though Christian doubted the married couple were watching a cartoon. Ana let him know that they'd been sending each other pictures of their spa day for almost three years now and that Grace always liked the idea that her Godparents were doing the same thing as her at the same time.
When the movie was over, the girls went to take a bath together, and Christian ordered them lunch. He was rather nervous about this afternoon because Ana was going to use the pool of his building and leave him alone with Grace. Sure, she would be napping for most of the time (given the fact that she had woke up too early according to Ana), but still, what happened the last time was still very vivid in his mind. The only reassuring thought was that Grace knew him a bit better and had trusted him enough the previous night to sleep in his arms (albeit completely depriving him of sleep).
So, after lunch, Ana tucked their daughter in for a nap and explained to her that she was going to go out for a bit, so when Grace would wake up, it would be just Christian and her.
"But you're coming back, right? You're not leaving me?"
"Of course not, honey. I just want to give you some alone time with your father. After all, the two of you did promise me some cookies."
Grace sat up in her bed, looking at her mother as if Ana had committed the worst treason in history, "But… I thought you were going to help us a little. You said I was not allowed to go near the oven."
"Oh …" Ana took a pensive pose, though she was hiding a little smirk. "And here I thought dads were grownups and could use ovens. I guess I was wrong."
Grace pouted, and just the way she scrunched her face, looking for something to retort showed to Christian that this had just been the excuse from his daughter to get her mother to help with the cookies. And he wished that she had succeeded, because, although the recipe he found online promised to be simple and easy, he couldn't help but feel that it was going to be a disaster.
"But … what if Christian needs your help? Christian? Do you know how to make the oven hot? Mama said it is important."
"Come on, now, Grace. I thought you said you wanted to spend time alone with your father."
"But it doesn't mean you have to go away."
"I'll be barely five minutes away. Like that, you'll get to tell your father all about your Halloween costume."
Christian watched his daughter make one last attempt to make her mother stay, and he couldn't help but think that maybe it was a bad idea for Ana to leave them alone. It seemed that, though Grace relied on him to protect her from the storm in her sleep, she wasn't ready to be completely alone with him yet.
Which was why, as soon as Ana closed the door of their daughter's bedroom, he let her know about his doubts concerning her plans. "Maybe you should stay. She doesn't seem so — "
"Grace always questions everything. When we came to New York, she asked a thousand questions before getting in the plane. Plus, I thought you were looking forward to spending time with her?"
"I am. But she isn't. And I don't want her to cry because of me, again."
"She won't cry. She'll tell you all about her Halloween plans, and she'll ask plenty of questions, and the two of you will bond."
"What's wrong with the three of us bonding together? This morning was nice."
Ana smiled, going to their room to get her swimming bag, apparently determined to let their daughter cry in Christian's arms when it could so easily be prevented.
"I was wondering, if Grace had asked you to put the clay mask on this morning, would you have refused?"
"Well, she didn't. And don't go planting the idea in her head. So, you're really going?"
She put down the bag on the bed, and planted her bright blue eyes on his, as she softly said, "I can stay if that's what you really want. I just thought you were man enough to accept this challenge to spend some time with your daughter and show her that you want to be with her, as her father, not just a friendly neighbour or something."
Christian narrowed his eyes at her, perfectly aware of what she just did. For a moment, he even wondered if his mother had taught Ana this tactic, for it was so sneaky. And though he would love nothing more than to ask her to stay, just as a safety measure, his ego made him shake his head. He couldn't bear the idea of Ana thinking that he wasn't man enough, even if he was fully aware that she was just using reverse psychology on him.
Ana picked her bag back up, and kissed his lips sweetly, before she left the apartment, saying that she would be back in a couple of hours. He watched her go, his eyes lingering on her ass until the doors of the elevator closed, and he went to his office so he could call Mr Cho whilst Grace was still sleeping.
As per usual, Cho tried to convince Christian to come to Macau since he hadn't been there in months. He used to go every six weeks, but since Ana had returned to his life, he had to rely more on videoconferencing. Christian ignored the Chinese man, staying in his usual position (his right hand half-covering his face whilst his eyes were closed, and his elbow was on the armrest) as he asked about the latest hire.
But Cho was interrupted by a small voice asking, "I finished sleeping, Christian. May I have some water?"
Christian snapped his eyes open, seeing Grace rub her eyes as she stood in the doorway of his office. He had left the door open on purpose, just so he could hear if something happened. But he had been so absorbed in his conversation with his business partner, that he didn't hear Grace wake up.
He quickly checked the time in on his watch, seeing that she only slept for forty-five minutes, and he ignored Cho's surprised look, as he told him in Chinese that he would be back promptly. Then, he smiled at his daughter and got out of his chair. As he walked to the kitchen, he remembered how Ana had a whole lecture over breakfast about how politeness dictated that Grace should use 'may' over 'can' and how Grace seemed to take it very seriously.
He poured some water from the fridge into a glass, but when he turned around to give it to the young girl, he noticed that she hadn't followed him. He first checked her room, but she was nowhere in sight, so he went back to his office, and he found her sitting in his chair, giggling at the screen.
Christian walked to her, giving her the glass of water, and she brightly smiled at him, as she asked, "Did you know that Huang spoke Chinese? He said he could teach me!"
He glanced at the screen, where Cho gave him a meaningful look. Christian had never actually told anyone about his new status as a family man. He had thought that the world would know when he finally made a statement and that he wouldn't bother telling each person he knew personally. His family knew, and so did Ros, he didn't need to bother with any more people.
"I'll call you back, tonight, Cho," Christian said simply, before ending the video under Grace's disappointed pout. He felt bad, and so he explained, "He is just a work colleague."
"Are you mad at me?"
"No. Why would I be mad at you?"
"Because you look mad. I wasn't supposed to come in here, right?"
"No, sweetie. You can go in any room you'd like. I want this to become your home too. In fact, you don't even have to knock if you want to see me."
Grace nodded, but he could tell by the frown between her brows that she still wasn't convinced, and so he awkwardly said, "I… I just thought we could make those cookies?"
That ought to make her smile. She jumped out of his chair, and carefully took the glass of water in her hand, whilst taking his hand with her other, and they both went to the kitchen.
"I have to warn you, I've never made cookies before."
"Never? But you're a grownup!"
"I know. I just always had someone to make them for me. It will be our first time, the two of us."
"I've made cookies with Mama. It's okay, I'll show you," she confidently reassured him, a small sense of pride in her strut as Christian took the ingredients out of the pantry.
They both washed their hands and preheated the oven before mixing the flour and brown sugar, though, last second, Grace decided to add a box of coconut flakes as well, because she loved coconut.
"You know, Mama always smells like coconut before going to bed."
"I know."
"How do you know?" She asked, squinting her eyes with suspicion.
"Well… she used to smell like coconut before too when going to bed," he somehow explained, hoping that Grace wouldn't try to dig deeper.
"Did you sleep together with my mommy before? When she was living in New York?" She asked with shock as they finished mixing the dry ingredients together.
"Well… yes."
Once again, Grace squinted suspicious eyes in his direction, and Christian cleared his throat, feeling as if he was a kid again, remembering the times when his parents would interrogate him on something he didn't want to be questioned on. So, he redirected them to the recipe.
"How do you feel about adding peanut butter? I love peanut butter."
"You do?"
He winked, and plunged a spoon in the jar, before giving it to Grace, who took it as if he had just given her the Holy Grail. She licked the spoon clean, and Christian did just the same with his own spoon.
"Mama never lets me have the ingredients when we cook. She says it's… 'not good eating habits'."
Though Christian agreed with Ana, he couldn't let the occasion of eating peanut butter pass. And he doubted that one spoon of peanut butter would affect Grace's eating habits so much.
"Well, once in a while, it's good to splurge."
"What is splurge?"
"It's… when you spoil yourself," he explained as best he could, and Grace smiled brightly.
"I like splurge with you."
"I like splurging with you," he corrected, and when she repeated the correct sentence, they added the chocolate chunks, though they added more than the recipe asked for since Grace said she loved chocolate as well.
"Oh? Can we add glitter? Uncle Karl always adds glitter in his cookies!"
Christian looked through the pantry to see if he had cooking glitter, vaguely remembering that the cookie he ate a couple of weeks ago did seem sparkly, and once he miraculously found some, they added the whole box to the batter (so the cookies would be extra glittery).
As they formed the small balls for the cookies, Grace excitedly told her father, "You know, this year for Halloween, Mama said we would go as Wednesday and Morti… Morticia Addams."
"Are you?"
"Yes. Wednesday is so cool, you know. She wears a black dress, so Mama said I would get a very black dress and very black hair. And she said that for once, I can wear makeup. And I will have to not smile because she doesn't smile, does she? So, I will make my face like that."
She put on a serious face that made her father chuckle before he eased the crease in her eyebrow with his thumb and helped her with her look. "Oh, Wednesday doesn't get serious. She is just indifferent. You should look at people as if they were just as interesting as the socks you wore three days ago."
"Like that?" This time, she put on an indifferent face, with a hint of blasé, and Christian congratulated her.
They put the cookies in the oven, both proud that they looked decent, and of course, they ate a bit of the dough before they sat on the couch, waiting for the cookies to bake. Ana had been right, Grace asked many questions and talked a lot, not that Christian minded, but when she started telling him how excited she was about school starting in two days, he swallowed with difficulty and tried to do things Ana's way.
"I'm really sorry that I'm missing your first day of school. But I'll make sure to call you that night so you can tell me all about it."
"But… you're busy. That's why you're not always here. That's why it was just Mama and me before."
Christian frowned, before hesitantly reaching for Grace. She did protest when he took her in his arms, and so he took her on his lap instead, like he had seen Ana do so many times before.
"I am busy, but so is your mother, and yet she is always here for you. I'm sorry I wasn't there before, I was stupid then, but… I promised you I'd be here, and I am trying my best. It's just that… sometimes I am still a bit stupid."
"Mama said stupid is not a nice word," Grace pointed out, and Christian smiled sadly, before admitting, "She's right."
The oven dinged, and so they got up and checked on the cookies, though Christian found them looking far less appealing than what the recipe he found online promised. They decided to wait for them to cool down a bit, and as Christian carefully took them off the tray, Grace asked, "Christian? Do you like my mommy?"
"Of course I do. Why would you think otherwise?"
"But… why don't you live with us? You said you like me the night you gave me the big teddy bear. And now you say you like my mommy. So, why do you have your own home?"
For a moment, Christian was tempted to lie, or at least cover up the truth, but Grace was looking at him with such big trusting eyes that he confessed to her, "I just messed up, sweetie. I… it's my fault that we took so long to meet, and… Well, I did some things that made your mommy sad, and afterwards, I didn't do some things, which made her even sadder. But I'm working on it."
"So, you want to live with us, right?"
He kissed her cheek, assuring her that this was indeed what he wanted, and Grace slightly pursed her lips, in that way that showed she was trying to solve a mystery. "You know what, Christian? I'm sure that if you told Mama, she would let you come live with us."
"I'm working on it, sweetie," he repeated. "I just think your mother doesn't want me to make you sad like I made her sad."
Grace rolled her eyes, unaware of the history between her parents. "You said yesterday you were going to protect us. You can't make the people you protect, sad."
"That's true. Well, do me a favour. Let's just keep this between us, and I promise that I'll do everything I can for us to all live together."
"Like a family?"
"Like a family," he vowed.
Grace gave him one of her brightest smiles, and they both decided that it was time for them to try their cookies. Christian poured them each a glass of milk, and they brought the cookies to the living room, Grace victoriously humming one of the songs from the cartoon they had watched in the morning. She sat on the floor, and so Christian did the same as she told him, "I really like this song from the movie. And I will always make sure to remember Grams, so she can stay in the Land of the Dead forever. Mama said we will put her picture next to her little vase."
Christian smiled at the young girl, glad that for once, Grace was talking about the late elderly lady with a smile, instead of crying, and they both dipped their cookies in the milk before trying them… which was a horrendous mistake.
They were far too dry, and it seemed that the mix of all the tasty flavours and glitter had made them… unsavoury. Grace turned her head to her father, with the same expression as he was probably harbouring, and Christian looked at the plate of all those failed cookies.
"What did we do wrong? We just put good things in them. Mama always makes the cookies nice. And soft."
"Maybe Mama doesn't put a whole box of glitter, and coconut in the batter," Ana said wisely from behind them, her wet chestnut hair falling freely around her face.
As soon as he saw her, Christian snatched the cookies away, refusing for her to taste the foul things they made, and it seemed that Grace was with him, because she tried to hide to cookies as well. Ana knowingly chuckled and raised her hands in peace.
"Okay, I won't have any. But I do want a picture of my two bakers and their infamous cookies."
And though they should have been ashamed of their failed attempt at baking, both Grace and Christian sported a proud smile, each having an arm around the other while the pitiful cookies stood between them.
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đź’š So, let's be honest, ii have been so good lately. All those cute and fluffy updates. Just so good, haha. And they warm my non-existent heart. The cuteness ...
đź’šNow question time,
1. How do you feel about Ana, now? Is she still on your blacklist?
2. And the cookies, haha. Yes, they failed, as Ana knew they would, because they can't stick to a recipe, and Christian can't say no to his daughter XD. But I think I enjoyed the convo Christian had with Grace.
3. And for those who haven't seen COCO, first of all, check it out, kid or not that movie is beautiful. Second, the Spanish version of one of the songs is going to be of some importance in the next chapter. If you've seen the movie, you know which one, otherwise, I will let you know in the next chapter.
4. Now, the spa morning was also cute, and kind of important ... And Jose will be sort of back next chapter ... sort of
5. What was your favourite Grace moment?
6. As per usual, what was your favourite part? Mine was Christian admitting that Ana was right.
đź’š E L James owns the names of the characters from the Fifty Shades franchise, Everything else is mine (including the mistakes and grammar errors).
Love, Mina đź’šđź’šđź’š