Chapter 4

Christian

Christian wipes the whetstone clean, after he finishes honing the straight steel Japanese blade. It's been some time since he was at the farm. Meditatively, he prepares the blade–it's time to shave. Lathering up, he begins with slow, even strokes shaving with the grain. He can't lose focus for even a second. The blade could slice his skin.

His finishes his shave and gets dressed. Something's missing. His face mask. Last time he was at the farm, there was no pandemic. They could meet outside and spread out. No. They'll need the projector.

Christian leaves the guest house and walks through the tall grass, heading towards the barn. More masks will arrive soon. Once Taylor gets here. No word on the others. It's still early.

Robbie should be up, mucking the stalls. He should retire and stay home. Quarantine. But he won't even cash the bonus checks. Not even during a pandemic.

Christian snickers. Kindred spirit. Wants control. Stepping inside the well-kept structure, the sunrise lights up the barn floors. Robbie might be right. No disinfectant. Clean air.

"Morning Christian," Robbie says, in his signature drawl, never stopping his shoveling. His white hair now long and pulled into a miniature ponytail. "Living alone in a time like this must feel like a pile of shit!" He knows how to make a statement.

Christian looses an uneasy snort and puts the envelope with the check near the stall. "Your check."

Robbie doesn't respond. He keeps shoveling.

Christian walks out of the barn. The old man's words, sinking in deeper than he'd like to admit.

º-º-º-º-º

Anastasia

I'm wearing Kate's dress walking in the lobby. This isn't a farm. It's a guest house. A fancy one. New fixtures but an older architecture design. Like a rustic resort from the 1920s. Most of the community rooms are on the first floor.

I pull the handle of the front double door. Acres of farmland. So much space. Why does he have this place? He should rent it out. Or something…not just leave it empty.

Taylor's van pulls up to the front parking lot. My breathing slows down, when I see Taylor exiting alone. Christian's not with him.

"Miss Steele, your car is on the way," Taylor says, as he steps up to the front porch holding a few packages. He wears a face mask. I need one of those. The pandemic isn't over.

"Thanks," I say, holding the door open for Taylor. My heart thuds in my chest. I'm no longer alone here with Christian. Good.

I sit on the porch swing waiting. I'm not…ready to run into Christian yet. Not after last night. I didn't mean to think of him in that way. Unprofessional.

But I was tense. And needed a release. Something to help me sleep. Imagining the storage shelves and him. Christian pressing me up against them. Kissing me. Slowly then harder. I teased myself while thinking of him, causing a bigger sensation than before. It took a while to get the technique right. But. I did it, just as the videos showed. Teasing myself. Building up momentum.

"Miss Steele," a male voice calls out, from the parking area.

I jump in my seat, causing the swing to move. I didn't see his car pull up. It's the guys from the taskforce.

He looks much more normal now, without the scuba goggles. "Where is Mr. Grey?" he says, with the smallest trace of a Russian accent, his English perfect, his voice calm. I wasn't expecting that.

"Um, I just saw Taylor walk in but no sign of Mr. Grey. Would you tell me your name? I didn't catch it yesterday."

"Kevin." He says, walking up the steps. Staying distanced. He sits on the opposite end of the oversized porch. Sitting on a wicker chair.

Perceiving that I shouldn't disturb him, I head back to my guest room. There are three shopping bags sitting outside the door. Taylor must have bought these. My stomach tightens as I bring them inside the room. It's hard to visualize it…Taylor shopping for me.

My gaze drops down to Kate's dress. Better than wearing this. I still smell the man from yesterday on me. His body odor sends a chill down my spine. Still can't believe that happened. An attack. Right outside work.

Pushing it out of my mind, I dump the contents from the shopping bags onto the bed. I find several dresses, underwear, even a pair of shoes. Examining the brands, I feel the richness of the materials. Kate would be jealous.

I found a phone charger in the storage closet. Thankfully. The service here is spotty but I had enough to watch the video clip Kate shared. After seeing the video, hearing George Floyd beg the cops to stop, I understand why she's focused–why she hasn't asked about me.

There's a lot going on. She wanted help with a poster design. I did what I could, looking at the graphic design of the power fist and texting some suggestions. Maybe it will help.

I better focus on GEH now. Kevin's here now. The others will come…I think. The breach. That's why we're here. I should look the part.

I try one of the dresses on. The navy one. I admire myself in the mirror. Professional cut and length but lighter fabric. Perfect for the season and rustic location. It's complimentary, which is a nice change. Most of Kate's dresses are too loose in the bust.

Would Christian like it? Stop that. It doesn't matter. Not one bit. I exit the room, knowing I'm telling myself a lie. But sometimes lies are useful.

º-º-º-º-º

Christian

Christian enters the dining room. Ana's talking to Niall, who must also have just arrived.

Ana's wearing something different, a dress that fits her better.

He's riveted by the new look. The blue dress sets off her curves. Taylor spent some time on his requested order. Smugly satisfied, Christian grins, boyishly taking a moment to gawk at her.

"Mr. Grey," Taylor says, surprising him. He hands Christian a disposable face mask. "Your face mask."

Christian puts the mask on, wishing the pandemic didn't exist. Oh. The reason Ana's here is because she's filling in for Andrea who has asthma. One benefit. The view.

"Christian, it's good to see you up and so focused," Niall calls out to him with a wink, with a barely suppressed smile. He's holding his face mask in his hands. The rebel. "It's so convenient we could all be here together…Ana's so great to come out here on such short notice. Did you show her your helicopter?"

"Morning Niall," Christian says as he taps Niall's shoulder subtly, adding unseen pressure. "Put your mask on."

Christian gives Ana a distant nod he walks to one the tables loaded with work equipment.

She smiles back, biting her lip. They make eye contact and she quickly grab her face mask, securing it. A shame. Her beautiful face's covered.

Finding the remote for the hidden in-ceiling projection screen, Christian tries to force the screen to lower, but the various button combinations are complicated, and his mind is preoccupied.

Christian groans. He can't concentrate. This place. Her. He'd rather be on vacation. He'd rather Ana were his submissive. Stop it. The breach. We need a decision.

Kevin slyly tugs the remote out of his hands, saving Christian from further embarrassment. "Mr. Grey. I got it."

Christian nods. "Thanks. Late night last night."

Kevin grunts in response, as he lowers the projector. He's unusually silent. No quick questions about the contractors. He's processing something.

Christian sits in the open chair next to Ana, taking a few breaths.

Niall clears his throat. His face mask now "on" but not covering his nose. He's trolling Christian. His eyes twinkle, like he knows something. Something he's not supposed to know.

Ana's texting on her phone, waiting for the meeting to start.

Looking from Niall to Kevin, Christian realizes Ana's the only one who doesn't recognize her predicament. She's alone. In a room full of men. Christian's attracted to her. The others have caught on. She better not. Keep it professional.

"I want to go with Fabulichn for the contract." Christian says, gruffly to Niall. Forget the others. Focus on the breach. Once a plan's in place, remote work begins again. No. Not again.

Niall stays silent, staring blankly at Christian. Then at Ana. He knows something.

"Ros can figure out the finances, since they requested a cryptocurrency-based payment, we won't break any laws."

Niall cocks an eyebrow.

Kevin loads the two competing proposals on the screen. "Not Toptal?"

"I don't trust…" Christian starts to explain.

A crashing sound draws everyone's attention.

"Oops, Sorry. I dropped my phone," Ana says. "Excuse me. Keep talking."

She backs her chair away from the dining table.

"I got it," Christian says, bending down to pick up the phone. A crack visible on the screen. He hands it to Ana.

Her hands shake as she accepts it. "Oh no, Andrea's going to kill me."

"She won't," Christian says, staring at her a little too long.

"Ok, fine. Fabulichn gets the bid," Niall replies, interrupting the moment, his eyes laughing, a polite smile on his face as he looks at Christian.

Kevin nods. "We need to get the investigation started. Jeremy's not here. But he told me he thought they were the better contractor."

Christian nods. His eyes drawn to Ana. Stop it. She doesn't realize the differences between the contractors.

"Should I text Andrea and tell her?" Ana asks, tilting her head. Her soft voice barely audible under her mask. Her fingers touch the crack in her phone's screen.

"Yes. We'll start processing the deposit," Christian says. Sweat lines his brow. "Excuse me. I'll tell Ros."

Not caring anymore about the contractor. Christian gets up to leave the dining room. He needs something to eat. Something to settle his stomach. Or just an opportunity to get away from Niall's smirk. And Ana's voice.

º-º-º-º-º

Christian sits alone on a wicker chair, near the edge of the back porch. Where no one can see him. He needs fresh air. The investigation's getting to him. That's it. Ros said the payments taken care of. It should all be over soon. The contractor does good work. They'll find the culprit.

He takes another breath and considers meditating. Anything to clear his mind. The vertical wall garden should be harvested soon. The tomatoes, basil, and mint are overgrown. The summer retreat. Canceled. That's why they never got used. Another consequence of 2020.

There's a sound of rustling near him. Someone's outside. Checking out the garden.

Christian freezes.

Ana skips along the walking path that surrounds the guest house. It starts near the front porch and goes to the potted garden. She stops to touch various potted plants, taking the time to smell them.

Her face mask's off. She's humming…he doesn't recognize the tune. Not a musical talent. She thinks she's alone.

Christian examines her. There's a playful air to her. She stands on her tiptoes to pluck a strand of mint, causing her dress to hike up.

Christian's heart rate escalates. It's too perfect. Innocent. And sexy. No clear agenda. Unusual.

"Oh," Ana, squeals, noticing him, as she turned around.

Christian's forces himself to keep a blank expression. A lie might be useful. "Just waiting on call out here. Did you talk to Andrea?"

"Yes, I finished sorting the files Taylor brought in. She wanted me to wait to do more until the contractor decided what information they needed," she says, talking fast. She touches the pearl drop necklace around her neck, rubbing her thumb across it. Like the necklace will give her strength. Interesting.

"Nice necklace," Christian comments.

Ana blushes, still touching the necklace. "It was a graduation gift. I better go. Sorry for disturbing you."

"It's no problem," Christian calls out. He holds back a chuckle, as she scurries away from him.

That necklace. Forgetting the breach, Christian smiles. His personal shopper sent him an order link in March. Caroline said, "This might be of interest."

He dismissed it. Telling Caroline, "No need."

But seeing Ana holding the simple necklace, made him want to order it. The 24k white gold necklace with its discreet yet functional vibrator attachment. It was lightly encrusted with a row of diamonds–the perfect pendant necklace. He'd like to see a woman wear it, feel its weight, know it's later use.

It's time to reboot his sex life. Not with someone from work. But with a new woman. Ana's a signal. He's ready for a change. That's all.

Energy rushes through him. He heads back inside, entering through the screened door. Ready to work. Once he gets the investigation started, he'll start working on his sex life. Without Elena's help.

º-º-º-º-º

Anastasia

It's well past 8:00 PM, and we're all still working. The contractor got back to us after Ros paid them. They wanted more information on the customer services reps. I found it in the files. There's nothing left for me to do. But can I just leave…I guess so. I stand up and quietly, push my chair back in place.

"Wait, Ana. Want to check out the wine cellar?" Niall asks, suddenly, standing up. He leaves his laptop on the table, after slamming it closed. Clearly done with it for the night. His pupils widen. There's a hasty grin growing.

"Well, I was going to head to bed…" I say.

"It's too early to sleep," Niall says. "Don't you want to see it?"

His question gets Christian's attention, who turns to face me, we make eye contact for a few seconds, before he turns back to the big screen. He's in the middle of conversing with the representative for Fabulichn, who only talks through encrypted chat box and keeps weird hours.

"Yes," I reply wearily.

"It's downstairs. Follow me."

Christian flashes us a look of pure disdain. Is he against drinking? My brain takes a vacation, and I follow Niall down the hallway, towards a small doorway that leads to a stairwell.

We start climbing down the narrow stairs. They went to college together. Hmmm…an opportunity for an investigation of my own. We reach the bottom of the stairs. Now's my chance.

"What was Christian like in college?" I ask, trying to appear nonchalant.

"...He left early, after two years. He didn't do well in class. Grades wise he was fine...he just has issues with authority," Niall replies, cautiously.

We enter the rustic, almost Italian looking wine cellar. The temperature drops several degrees. Ugh...I don't like the chill. Touching the elaborate wooden latticework, holding bottles and bottles of wine, amazed by so much choice. Niall's looking through the red wines, obviously searching for one.

"Issues with authority?" I question. What does that mean?

"Christian doesn't like losing control." Niall sighs. "He doesn't handle it well."

"Hmmm…" I murmur. "Any stories come to mind?" I'm pushing the line. But I need to try.

Niall finds the red wine he was looking for and picks up a random bottle of white wine. He hands them to me, while he grabs four glasses by the stem and an opener.

"I got him drunk by spiking his drink once. Funniest shit ever...Well, until he broke a wall. Without tricking him, we never would have seen it. He's so controlling, doesn't know how to let go."

I gasp, shocked.

"Let's go upstairs and drink these...you've never had red wine this good."

My heart beats faster-this is probably a bad idea-drinking with people from work, all men. But maybe it's worth it. I want to hear more stories.

º-º-º-º-º

They're still working when we walk back in the room, the chat box still dominating the screen.

"It's time for a drink," Niall announces.

Kevin stands up to join us. "About time."

Christian snickers and continues typing. Ignoring us.

It makes me want to troll him…just for effect. But I better not. My breathe hitches. Niall says he has control issues. Better not test it. Keep a low profile.

Niall picks the table nearest the windows, the outdoor lights showing off the vegetable garden. He sets the glasses down and takes the red bottle from my hands.

"Let's play a game!" Niall says, while pouring our glasses.

"What type of game?" I ask, gesturing to Niall that he's filled my glass enough. The red wine is filled to the brim. "I don't like card games."

"Okay no cards. Since we were already discussing college, how about an old game. A blast from the past," Niall says, laughing. His voice now booming. "Let's play Never Have I Ever?"

We all take our masks off. At this point, does it even matter? We've been in the same room all day. I choose to ignore the voice in my head. The one saying all of this is a bad idea.

Kevin sips his wine, staring in Christian's direction. He smiles like he knows something about his boss.

Christian's typing furiously, going back and forth from his laptop to wireless keyboard that controls the big screen.

Hmmm…what's got him on edge. I sip my wine, groaning at the taste. Niall's right. This IS amazing. Much better than our usual selections.

"I'll take that as a yes," Niall says, playfully. "You two know the rules?"

Christian appears to be moving his seat. Interesting. He's eavesdropping. Why does he care?

Niall's smile grows wider.

Something is going on here. I'm missing something. There's only one way to find out. I smile at Niall and Kevin. "Yes, let's play."

"I'll start," Niall says, taking a big swig. "Never have I ever been to France."

Kevin drinks. So far so good. My turn.

"Never have I ever had a real college graduation."

Kevin and Niall both drink, Niall's eyes contain pity. But we move along.

"Never have I ever been horseback riding," Kevin says.

Niall and I drink, I accidentally take a big gulp, which makes me laugh. "Oops. This is meant to be savored."

"Damn right it is," Christian says, scowling. His hands grip the table.

"Come join us," I say.

"I'm working." He says, growling. Back to angry typing.

Kevin shushes me. "Let's start again."

Niall can't stop smiling.

I can't shake the feeling. I take another sip of wine. They know something. What am I missing here?

"Never have I ever been kissed by a man," Niall says.

I drink. I turn my head, checking on Christian. He's extra tense now. Veins pop out of his neck. He'll get a backache if he maintains that hunched over position. Why? Why does he care?

Kevin gently picks up his glass, taking a sip of wine.

Niall's eyebrows raise. Whoa, will we keep this work appropriate? My turn.

"Never have I ever got a massage."

Niall laughs as he takes a sip. Kevin's glass remains untouched.

"Fuck," Christian says loudly, his hands dropping on the table, as he shoves his keyboard away. There, that got his attention. I take another sip of wine. This is too much fun. A release. After months of quarantine.

"See you all tomorrow," Kevin says, standing up. There's a little twinkle in his eyes when he waves goodbye at us, ending our game.

"Let's move to the porch," Niall says with a wink, completing disregarding Christian. "I'll show you the bikes, we could even take a ride in the fields."

Christian's still got his face mask on. But his eyes. His eyes are angry. Like someone who missed out on a sale at Clayton's. And now has to pay full price.

"Sure," I say. Maybe Christian's attracted to me and a little jealous of Niall. No. He just wanted to work. A small voice shouts – test your theory. "Let's go outside. I'd like some air."

Niall opens the white wine bottle. I guess we already went through the red.

"Finish it," Niall says, pointing to the last bit of red wine in my cup.

I swallow it down. Knowing I shouldn't. He pours some in white wine in my cup. A happy feeling passes over me and I start giggling.

"Night," Niall says to Christian, who's still typing.

We head towards the double doors. I pause when we reach Christian's table.

"Should we leave you a glass?" I ask innocently.

"No." He says strongly, the hasty reply, reminding me of a sulking child.

Skipping out to the porch, I'm satisfied. I think he's attracted to me.

º-º-º-º-º

Niall and I are in the middle of a conversation about literature, the hero's journey and the cowboy motif, when Christian walks out the double doors and sits on one of the wicker chairs. A few feet from us.

Christian sleeves are rolled-up. He's no longer wears a face mask. There's something unhinged about him. Not his typical self. Something else is present. A unmet need.

I touch a strand of hair, fixing the curl. I'm no longer interested in literature. I need to test something. I try to make my voice sound more feminine. Almost seductive. "Everything okay with the contractor."

"Yes," Christian says, tersely. Facing the other direction.

Niall laughs. "You need some wine. Take the edge off man. Forget work. Let's talk about quarantine. It's been months. Chill out."

Christian stays silent. He's holding something in. An emotion.

Liquid courage removes my fear. Conveniently ignoring the voice of reason that says if he fires me, I won't be able to find another job–I throw out a challenge.

"I feel like riding around," I say gently, waving goodbye to both of them. I climb down the porch steps. I spot the spare bikes on the edge of the parking lot and pick one to ride.

I peddle to the front of the steps. "Anybody want to join me? It's a nice night."

"Go to bed Ana," Christian says, firmly. "You've been drinking."

Ignoring him, I start whistling, actually whistling, "I'm off the clock, Mr. Grey," I say, tantalizingly him with an air kiss, "You guys relive your college glory days."

Maybe I'm pushing my luck. I can't care.

Leaving Christian beat red and Niall full-out laughing, I ring the silver bicycle bell and take the cruiser down the well-lit path, peddling on the flat road.

The bike behind me, makes sounds on the gravel. I know it. Christian's following me. I bike faster. Getting closer to the distant barn.

I can't stay ahead long. His speed quickly overtakes mine. I follow. He leads. His face stays blank. No longer angry.

We ride in silence for a few minutes. He doesn't look natural on the bike. His legs are too long.

I want to test something. But how? There's a greenhouse. It's lit up beautiful. Will he follow me there…let's see.

Lazily dropping the bike on the gravel path–I walk into the greenhouse–luckily, it's unlocked. Examining the plants, I crane my neck towards the tall thin blades. Really tall grass. It doesn't seem that special. I touch the blades lightly.

"It's Vetiver," Christian says, firmly as he enters the greenhouse. His hair's ruffled from the ride. Windblown. Less perfect. But more attractive.

I quickly drop my hands to my sides. I don't know what Vetiver is…or why it's here. I keep walking touching various blades.

He sighs, like it's a story he's told before to people who don't understand it, "A renewable energy fuel source–that's my plan for it."

I nod, choosing not to question him as I slowly walk through the parallel rows of identical plants. How much technology it must take to turn these tall blades into fuel?

He groans, audibly and I turn back to face him. He's obviously struggling with something.

These mixed signals are killing me, his pained eyes, his tightly wound temperament and his primal sounds. I muster up the courage to test my theory.

I repeat my original movement, lightly touching the tall blade, not trying too hard to be seductive, yet taking great care with my movements.

He turns around and walks back toward the entrance.

I'm still buzzed from the wine. There's a theory I need to test. Now's my opportunity.

Tapping his shoulder, I stand on my toes waiting as he turns around. I do something extremely uncharacteristic and rash–I kiss him. Slowly pressing my lips on his. Their soft. I gasp in surprise.

He kisses back, first gently then with more pressure–soon his hands are on my body, my arms, my back, pulling me in tighter–I don't want it to stop. He's good, masterful really. Movements purposeful, his taste is satisfying.

He pulls away. Staring at me. Like he's seeing me for the first time. As a woman.

My heart beats rapidly–energized and awake–I'm no longer tipsy.

A slight smile on his face. "Let's head back Anastasia," he says quietly. He walks out of the greenhouse, mounts his bike and starts peddling.

Bewildered, I follow him out, slowly peddling as I see him ride faster in the distance. There he goes.

My mind conjured up one reality of kissing this man earlier. It didn't do it justice. If that's all I get, that's enough. I tested a theory.

I broke the seal–my first kiss since lockdown–and, much more importantly, my first aggressive move towards a man.