Author's Note: This scene was the first I envisioned from Taylor's POV. I thought it was a one off. I originally posted it as Chapter One. Since then, I have envisioned earlier events from Taylor's POV and I've inserted them, pushing this down to Ch 3. This chapter remains as written.

Chapter 3~ The Secret Pact ~ Christian Grey's Escala Penthouse ~ 6PM

I've just driven Mr. Grey home from Boeing Field to find Gail… Mrs. Jones… is working in the kitchen on his dinner. She's smartly dressed in her working attire a simple navy blue A line skirt, a starched white blouse, one of her linen bib aprons with pockets. Her long blonde hair is pulled back and held with a clip. Her usual diamond stud earrings, twinkle in her ears. She wears practical pumps with just a little heel. She's such a natural beauty without makeup. She moves easily… gracefully… about her kitchen.

"Mrs. Jones! Change in plans. I'm going out. I hope you and Taylor will like what ever it is you are cooking. It does smell good."

"I'll hold a plate for Mr. Taylor."

"I'm going to drive myself tonight."

"Yes, sir," she replies.

I find Mr. Grey in his study. He appears to have showered and changed into a button down print shirt open at the neck, black jeans with a wide leather belt and a big buckle. A classic black leather jacket lies across his desk. His desk… of course, is of the finest wood. He closes his laptop.

"Mr. Grey, I need to complete my inspection of the alarms and Closed Circuit TV cameras for the rest of the apartment."

"Very well. You can do it this evening, Taylor. I'm going out for dinner."

"I can drive you."

"I'm going to drive myself. I'm meeting Mrs. Lincoln for dinner. I recently invested in her beauty salon business." … "I AM NOT your prisoner, Taylor," he huffs.

"Of course, sir." I learned quickly in the security business, not to argue with the guy who signs the checks. I've been fired for speaking my mind… even if I was later proven right.

"We'll be dining at the Metropolitan Grill." He offers. Is he trying to smooth things over?

"Taylor, I have a house guest, 'most every weekend. She has a suite of rooms upstairs. There's also a locked room upstairs that is for our exclusive use."

"I see."

I watch as Christian Grey, the man I am paid to protect, leaves without me. Gail turns to me and asks "When do you want to eat?"

"I've been waiting for an opportunity to do a thorough security check of the whole apartment. It's as if Fort Knox was an art gallery thirty stories in the air." That's it. Sterile. Cold.

I continue, "I need to get it done. I'll start with his rooms. All the outside doors."

"How much time do you want?"

She's setting two places at the breakfast bar. The sway of her hip catches my eye. She's a fine figure of a woman. I try not to get caught gawking.

"We'll eat here," she says.

"Will he mind?"

"I don't know? Are you going to tell him?"

"No, of course not. It will be our secret," I laugh.

I go over to her and extend my pinky finger. She laughs then smiles and engages my pinky with her own.

"Pinky swears!" she says.

"That's good enough for me. There's nothing higher." I chuckle… I guess it was out loud, I realize. "I was thinking of my daughter, Sophie. It's something she would like." She's three after all.

"I'll turn the burner down a little. Dinner in an hour. … Get going, Bub. Do your work so we can eat."

"Jason, Ma'am. You can call me Jason."

"Jason," she says. And playfully snaps me with a rolled dish towel to start me moving. She smiles after me as I launch on my task.

All the glass doors have alarms… I check their perfect installations. The steel fire doors to the Emergency stairwell have recessed alarm sensors. All the locks have been upgraded. They all connect to the Master panel in the Security Office which has become my home away from home. The balconies, entrances, and the garage have highest quality Closed Circuit TV. I marvel at the garage camera. I resolve to ask 'The Captain'… Fred Welch, my old Marine C.O., how he managed that? It is an exact match for the Escala building's own security cameras. It's hiding in plain sight… the best camouflage… but is focused on Mr. Grey's parking spaces.

I find the suite of rooms Mr. Grey mentioned for his "house guest". Initially I wondered if it was a family member… but wouldn't he have just said so? A love child? Well, this clothing is not a child's clothes. I brush my hand over the finest silk negligee and dresses hanging in her closet as if on display. A secret girl friend or lover. Absolutely. I check the glass door to her balcony… it's properly secured like the others.

I'm done, except for the mysterious locked room. I go through the set of master keys and find the one which unlocks the door. I turn the key in the lock and push the door open. I switch on the light as I step inside…

"Holy Fuck!" I gasp and as I recoil, I stagger back out of the room nearly falling across the hallway. "My God!" I've stepped through a time warp to the Spanish Inquisition! Is the seemingly proper Mrs. Jones in on this? Does she take part? Is she listening down stairs to hear my reaction?

Shit. I need to go back in there. I need to check the room for access points and security risks. I steel myself like I'm about to charge an enemy position.

The room is odd, painted a warm shade of dark red… so blood splatter won't show? I wonder what a black light would show? No, I really don't want to know. There are things on display that I've never seen before. There is a decidedly sexual aura to the space. There are no doors or windows to the outside. It smells of citrus and wood polish.

My mind is swimming… Who is his 'house guest'? Is this legal? How can it be? I can not be involved with illegal activities! He's at risk. I'm at risk. Gail is at risk. I'm not going to jail for him. I have to quit.

Sadly, I go down the stairs. I'm going to miss having money in my pocket and Gail's fine cooking. We've known each other barely a week; I reluctantly admit I'm going to miss more than just Gail's cooking. She's an oasis to come home to.

"Gail, I have to quit. I can't work for him," I blurt out.

"Are you hungry? Shall we eat first? Before you quit," she says.

"Yes, I'm hungry."

"Then go wash your hands."

"Yes, Ma'am." But my mind is still spinning like a top. I jump up before she deploys the dish towel again.

I return with clean hands to find a splendid meal of roast beef, oven roasted potatoes, peas and carrots, fresh garden salad with sweet apple chunks. There are wine glasses out but I wave her off.

"I'd love a beer, but Mr. Grey's not home yet. I'm not off duty until he's tucked in."

Gail nods knowingly. "Soft drinks or coffee?"

"I'll have water for now, please, Gail. Coffee after."

"Make yourself comfortable."

"Do you mind?" I ask.

She sighs.

I step away, to be discreet, as I remove my suit's coat and lay it over a dining chair. Then my reissue of the 'Miami Classic' shoulder holster with my pistol and spare magazines still in place. It's 7 PM and I've had it on for thirteen hours so far. I roll my neck and stretch my shoulders. It feels so good to be free of the weight. I consider it best practice to leave the gun holstered like this if I remove it briefly. Negligent Discharges tend to happen when guns are being handled. This method engages all the safety features of both this pistol and holster, protecting against that possibility. I place the holster on top of my coat.

As we eat, I start.

"You knew about the room upstairs."

She doesn't play dumb. She knows what room I'm talking about.

"Yes." She says. "I quit, too." … "I'd just moved in; I was still in my trial period."

"I am still in my trial period," I say.

"I'd just cleaned his guest's room. I was focused on things I could do to make her stay more comfortable… The supplies women need."

"Why are you still here? Do you do things in there?" I demand.

"I clean that room, like any other room."

"Do you participate!" I say with a shrill voice that surprises me.

"No, I don't. Of course, I didn't even know about that room when I was hired but I had reservations about working for such a young man. I requested a clause in my contract, that our relationship will remain strictly professional."

"As Mr. Grey said, it's for the private use of himself and his guest." She takes a fresh breath. "I'm off weekends. I rather demanded to meet the young lady. It was brief. She seems devoted to him. And once he called me on my weekend off to help her fix a cooking disaster. I talked her through the recipe. She was fine after she calmed down and got the mess off the floor. Mr. Grey asked me to be gentle with her."

"Is it LEGAL? How can it be legal?" I speculate.

"I believe it's called 'kink', Mr. Taylor. As it was explained to me, it is between consenting adults. They have a written agreement of what is permissible."

"I don't know… I really don't know."

"I didn't know either. To be frank, I still don't understand it. She seems like a lovely girl." … "I'd already given my notice. Mr. Grey asked me to work out the trial period before he looked for a replacement. I decided what I needed to know wasn't here. I needed to know if he was abusing his power to coerce women to do… these… unspeakable things."

"What changed your mind?" I ask.

"Well, I'm not sure how much my mind has changed. I'm not a prude, mind you, Taylor. But this is just so… alien."

I'm surprised how disappointed I am that she reverted to my 'work name'.

"The 'house tablet' displays Mr. Grey's schedule on it," she continues.

"Yes, I'm not surprised. My laptop does, too."

"I used the tablet to book an appointment with him at his office… I wrote my name differently, with an ambiguous job title." … "I dressed up for the part. I got past security because when they checked, I had a valid appointment."

"I'll make a note," I laugh.

"So I went early, sat in his reception and watched how he treated the women in the office until my appointment. Poor Judith was all flustered because she didn't know who I was or why I was there."

"And how did he react?"

"I sensed both irritation… and respect. I put it all on the line. He didn't have to agree but if he didn't, I'd have presumed he was hiding something and I'd have been gone. I asked him to have his PA give me a tour and give her permission to talk to me. I figured she's signed an NDA too."

"We are both in violation of his damn NDA."

"Are you going to tell him?" she says.

"No, we both swore."

"Yes, pinky swears are binding." She continues, "Well, I found he doesn't date or socialize with women who work for him. He doesn't appear to notice the women trying to get his attention. The office rumor is he might be gay. He isn't interested. But Grey Enterprises Holdings offers all kinds of family benefits. Maternity leave, new mother programs, a child care center on site. I truly don't get it. He claims it's just good business."

"Please, Gail. He's keeping so many secrets. I can't protect him if I don't know. What else isn't he telling me?"

"Gail extends her pinky again. Jason, I will tell you everything but it must always remain just between us."

"Always." We interlock pinkys again.

"He has a big sailboat… he took his family out the other day. He left his girlfriend here. They don't know about her," she tells me.

"Wow!"

"He bought himself a brand new helicopter, today." I say.

Gail gasps.

"He took it up with his Pilot and two guys from Eurocopter. He flew it himself. God only knows what that cost. Millions. Apparently he's nearly got his rating. Oh, yes, and then he tells me he flies freakin' gliders. Planes with no engines."

"How do they get into the air?" Gail asks.

"I was afraid to ask."

"If your principle ends up as a little smudge in a big hole in the ground… it's really bad for business."

Gail chuckles. "I can see how that would be."

Gail puts a piece of fresh apple pie in front of me, along with coffee. "Did you see the piece about Mr. Grey?"

"What piece about Mr. Grey?" I say between delicious mouthfuls.

"I was checking out at the market and there was some tabloid with his picture on the front page. "Local Makes It Big."

I drop my fork. "What?" My mouth goes dry. "What else did it say?" I'm chocking on my food.

"He's worth millions. Something about being Seattle's Most Eligible Bachelor. Of course it's ridiculous. Mr. Grey has a girlfriend."

I jump up. "A secret girlfriend." As I throw on my holster and my coat. "This kind of publicity puts him at risk… and I'm here sitting on my ass."

I sprint to the elevator. The restaurant is local. I can be there in minutes.

Gail gives me a little wave… her hand is closed except for her raised pinky.

I try to wave back but I'm moving in overdrive and I'm not sure if she sees it.