Chapter 8
Anastasia
August 17, 2020
I'm staring at my resume feeling shocked. Why do the tech recruiters want to interview me? I check the time. The scheduled video conference starts in thirty minutes. I should take something to settle my stomach. I've never felt this nervous, well, except when I'm with Christian Grey. That's a different type of nerves though.
A headhunter reached out to me last week asking if I created the protest posters. I click on her LinkedIn message, reading it for the 4th time and cracking a smile. I needed the confidence boost.
I squirm thinking of the remarks my GEH co-workers keep making on group video calls. Lily and Olivia snickered last week when I told them I was taking the day off, they asked if I had another "project" to attend to. I wish they had never seen that article. I click the bookmarked link and remember the feel of Christian. I can see why they'd be jealous.
"They'll miss me if I leave," I utter out loud. "Olivia can't manage the calendar." I think of how I stayed up late helping Kate write social media posts. "Karma's real."
They're interviewing me for a Content Community Specialist position. Everything's secretive, the headhunter represents a big technology company. I wasn't planning on leaving GEH this soon. Looking at the interview questions I found online, I cringe. I shouldn't get ahead of myself. It's an interview. And, a chance to get my mind off of Christian.
Why doesn't he do girlfriends?
"It's over between us." I announce, lecturing myself again. I force myself to review my notes. I flip through my notecards. This job would be closer to publishing then administrative assisting. Sighing, I get stumped on one question. "Tell me about a time you dealt with violence and threats on social media." Um, never.
I check my phone, only five minutes have passed. It feels like an eternity. There's a new message from José. He's wishing me good luck. Oh no. He included the kissy face emoji. That's awkward. We did a quarantine photoshoot together two weeks ago, and he asked me out. I made up some excuse…not wanting to face reality. He's not Christian.
"No one's Christian." I stammer, when my phone rings. Shit! Are they cancelling the interview?
Christian Grey's name flickers on my phone. I do a double take. We haven't talked in weeks. Did he find out I'm interviewing for another job?
I ignore the first call. No. I won't talk to you. Not now. I took vacation time to prepare for this interview. I relook at my notes, skipping to another question about data analytics.
My phone rings again. He's calling. Is he ok? It could be for GEH. Maybe something happened to Andrea. I pick up on the 2nd ring. "Hello, is everything okay?"
"Ana," Christian beckons. "I need to see you again."
The sound of his voice knots up my stomach. I don't know what to say, so I take a second to collect myself. Okay. His needs. That's what he started with. After all of this time. "I'm sorry Christian. I'm busy."
He growls. "I can't take it any longer. You need to let me explain."
"Did something happen?"
"No." Christian mutters. "It's just…I've missed you."
Oh. He misses me. His lost caregiver. "I'm sorry Christian. I've got a meeting soon. I need to go."
"Wait. Ana, those pictures. Someone sent them to me. I shouldn't have looked at them. I don't want that girl."
All the energy from weeks missing him, denying it, and wanting something more comes out. "You don't want any girlfriend. Including me. You told me yourself."
"I'm reconsidering my priorities," Christian stammers.
A migraine starts forming, and I rub my temple. This can't be happening.
"This Saturday, let's do something together."
"Hold on," I bark. "I don't know if I can do that."
"I'll pick you up in the morning."
No. I won't go. But I stay silent, my emotions torn. I want to see him. I shouldn't want that.
"7:00 AM Saturday," Christian says, "We need to get there early to climb."
Huh? To climb? Shit! My interview! "Christian I can't talk now."
"What's your shoe size."
"Eight and half," I stutter, hanging up on him.
My breathing's heavy now. Sweat drips from my brow. I wipe it off and tell myself I'll deal with my wrecked emotions later.
I check my watch. The video interview should be easy compared with talking to Christian. Nothing the hiring committee could ask would affect me like he does.
º-º-º-º-º
Christian
Christian plops the remote down on the glass desk after powering on his flatscreen. He's in his Seattle penthouse, working from home. The TV lowers and the morning news blares. The Washington Governor declares a state of emergency over the recent wildfires.
"Useless!" Christian shouts.
He should run for office. Last night, a Molotov cocktail blew up in a warehouse a mile from GEH Headquarters. The poor man's grenade blew up the storage building, turning the square block into a firebomb–it easily could have spread farther. Why isn't that on the news?
Christian scowls. The isolation makes him moody. Or more precisely, his lack of control. It's harder to get people to do what he wants.
Ana hung up on him yesterday and the mayor's office won't return his calls.
He wants to lash out, to punish, to use methods that are beneath him. He needs self-restraint.
Christian turns off his TV and begins to meditate. He lets his thoughts come and go without judgment. He starts calming down after a few minutes. He'll get what he wants. He needs to observe the cycles of nature. This is a phase.
Soon, he'll be back in control. With this understanding, he's able to clear his mind of all thoughts and come to a place of rest.
º-º-º-º-º
Anastasia
I'm reading one of Kate's books, about how to handle men. It seemed educational, but I keep laughing. Stretched out on my bed, I imagine Christian doing overtime to a woo me. What would that even look like?
I turn to another page. How do I prove I respect myself? I scratch my head, wondering if that means I tell him I can't come. It's unclear.
"Ana, you got a package," Kate calls out, walking into my room without knocking. I plunk her book under a pillow as she scoots next to me. "And these flowers, they're gorgeous!"
I'm speechless. The flowers drip with bright colors. I touch a pink dahlia.
"These are huge!"
I find the note between two sunflowers and stand up to read it privately, while placing the vase on my desk.
"Who sent them?" Kate demands, following me.
"Um…work," I lie, unconvincingly. I crush the small note behind my back.
"I don't believe you." Kate steps up next to me, reaching for my hands.
I clench my fist.
But she's stronger. She uncurls my fingers and reads the note. "You liar! You said you were friends."
"It was a short thing," I say, "No sex."
"It doesn't sound over," She cajoles. "Open the package. It all came together."
I tremble a little, then start fiddling with the cardboard box.
"Here!" She insists, offering me a pen from my desk.
I use it to poke through the wrapping tape, finding a pair of shoes. They're athletic, blue with black soles.
"Weird choice," Kate remarks, dismissing them. "If he wants to win you, he should have least sent you Manolo Blahniks."
I chuckle. Oh, Kate. "And, where would I wear them, to a drive-thru?"
"You could coordinate your face mask." We both laugh now, easing the earlier tension.
Kate hugs me. "Tell me next time, he kisses you. I can keep a secret."
I nod. My stomach twisting. Do I want there to be next time? I'm torn.
Kate starts pilfering through my flowers. "I've got an idea."
"Let's use these for a photo shoot," Kate suggests, pointing to the flowers.
Taking a sunflower from her hand, I get an idea. "I know what'll get you more likes. Let's cut the stems."
"Huh?"
"We'll call it a self-care during quarantine. How about we top a bubble bath with these flowers?"
"You do deserve that new job!" Kate exclaims, practically skipping to her bathroom. "It's crazy. But it's makes sense. You can tell stories through media instead of ink."
As she undresses, I chop the stems off of the flowers. My hard grasp on the small scissors starts to cause blisters. It takes a lot of force to cut the big stems. I should find a better pair or a steak knife and stopping using so much force.
My thoughts turn to Christian and how I've done the escalating. I kissed him first. Does the same lesson apply? Shrugging, I head to the kitchen, looking for a better tool for the task.
º-º-º-º-º
Christian
Christian checks his personal phone again, looking for a missed notification. His uncharacteristic anxiety is disrupting his workflow. Dammit. Why hasn't Ana thanked him? He sent the flowers last night, and he hasn't heard a peep from her. He's avoided the temptation to background check her, but he did find her social media profiles.
Scrolling through Ana's profile, Christian finds a few scattered pictures. She doesn't post often. There's one of her with an older man–is that her father? He clicks on another where she holds a diploma while wearing a white dress. A few guys have commented on it. It's her most liked photo. Christian scowls. He doesn't like competition.
Still stalking her, Christian sees she's tagged in a recent photo. The caption is crediting her. The picture displays a beautiful blonde in the bath. She's covered up, surrounded by bubbles topped with flowers. Leaning in closer, he sees Ana did get the flowers he sent. She cut them up and placed them strategically.
Creative. He enlarges the photo. It's not the sight of the beautiful girl that gets his attention, it's the masterful artistic display. The teasing quality of the work, the angling, the lighting. The way Ana captured the blonde's pouting lips–it's photojournalism. She's telling a story, getting someone's attention.
Christian's imagines Ana as the subject. His blood rushes down. He muscles his hand to his pants, altering the line of his zipper. It doesn't help. He stands up to get his erection to fade away.
He texts Ana: You have storytelling talent.
It gets her attention. She writes back: ?
He considers explaining that the reason the photo got so many likes wasn't her friend's bod. But he restrains himself. He needs a carrot. He writes back: I'll this weekend.
She writes back: Okay.
Good. He captured her interest. Satisfied, Christian sits back down, his hard-on disappearing. He'll get to that later. Hopefully, she'll help.
º-º-º-º-º
Christian reads a legal memo. His counsel determined there is probable cause to believe Russell Lincoln paid Tyler and showed him how to trick GEH IT employees into giving him the credentials to access confidential information. He should never have hired Elena's nephew. A costly mistake.
Christian's clenches his fist, annoyed. He needs to figure out how to further safeguard his clients' information. He starts writing an email to his PR team. Fuming, he remembers how his publicist said Russell keeps posting to social media complaining about Christian.
"The Coward!" Christian shouts, thinking of how bad Russell beat up Elena, his ex-wife.
He uses a few deep breaths to let his anger subside. The mainstream media outlets are following the story. They're looking to attack rich guys like him. He scoffs. Then remembers self-pity doesn't change the facts. Russell Lincoln's jealous of Christian's professional success. He doesn't understand the legal implications of his posts.
Christian grimaces, thinking of what the court system might do if they discovered Elena seduced him when he was a minor. What would his mom think? Hopefully, it doesn't come to that.
Christian redirects his thoughts. He finishes the email. He's about to send it, when his phone rings. It's Andrea.
"Yes," Christian answers, tersely.
"I wanted to talk to you about the graffiti at headquarters," Andrea stammers. "Sorry, I know it's still early."
"It'll be fine."
"The messaging has gotten violent sir…" She pauses, like she's afraid he'll shoot the messenger.
"It's fine. None of its personal."
"Well, it's a little personal, sir." Andrea sputters, her hesitation catching his attention. "Someone put your face on a yard stick and then stuck a knife through your mouth."
"Don't worry about it," Christian says, while his heart rate skyrockets.
"Okay…if you say so," Andrea whispers. She clears her throat. "Oh, and I need to hire another administrative assistant. Actually, it might take two assistants to replace Miss Steele."
"What's happened?" Christian questions, now alert. "She's leaving?"
"She put in her two weeks' notice," Andrea says, "She got another job–"
"Did you offer her another promotion?" Christian asks. Why does Andrea sound guilty?
"Yes, but, well."
"Spit it out Andrea."
"It's my fault. I should have managed it better."
"Managed what?"
"The other girls' jealousy," Andrea falters, "The team saw the gossip magazine's article about you two…they keep making petty remarks."
Christian's jaw drops. The article. A wave of unease passes over him. He should've gotten it removed. "Hire whoever you need."
"Yes, sir."
Christian hangs up the call. Ana shouldn't leave GEH over that. Yet, there's another awareness stirring in his chest. This might be a positive development. In two weeks, Ana's no longer his employee.
º-º-º-º-º
Anastasia
Why 7:00 AM? I'm sitting on our balcony, scrunching my nose because the air quality still isn't great. I stare at Christian's text message again. Why did he tell me I have storytelling talent? I've never published any stories.
I've written a few pieces for classes before, but I always thought my talent was editing not presenting. A small voice chimes in, telling me I can do both. We'll see.
At least, I got the job offer. My heart rate quickens. I can't believe I put in my two weeks' notice today. They wanted me to start right away. The offer was so good that I accepted it immediately. Should I tell Christian?
The screen door opens.
"Do these pants look ripped enough?" Kate asks, pointing to her newly cut up black jeans.
I stand up to examine the cuts she made.
"Give me the scissors," I say.
She hands them to me, and I make another cut.
"There, that's better."
"Thanks, babe." Kate squeals. "Did you ever figure out what those shoes are for?"
"They're for climbing," I mumble. I still don't know where we're headed tomorrow. I assume a rock wall. Are they even open right now?
"That should be sexy," Kate says, her face aglow. "There's this climbing guy who's super-hot. He posts videos, and yeah. They're great."
I raise my eyebrows. I didn't know she was into climbers.
She pulls out her phone, clicks something, then hands it to me. "Check this out."
My insides clench–it is kinda hot.
The climber's back muscles pop out as he gracefully climbs–he looks like Spiderman. I wouldn't mind seeing Christian do this with his shirt off.
"Turned on?" Kate questions, sitting in the chair next to me. "That guy's German."
I nod, still entranced by the video.
"Are you coming to the protest?"
"Not tonight," I say, "I'll be getting up early tomorrow."
She nods and starts walking back inside.
I follow her. "You should be careful!"
"I will!" Kate says, assuring me. "I'm going with Marie."
"Is Elliot coming?"
"Not yet," She sighs. "He's still in California." She frowns a bit then gushes, "I can't wait for you to meet him! It might be next week."
"Can't wait!" I chime in as she picks up her bag from the coffee table.
"Don't wait up for me," she says, waving as she leaves.
My stomach jostles and I get a water bottle out the fridge. She's found a guy willing to commit. What's with Christian's issues? And why would someone send him a picture of a naked girl? I need to find out more.
º-º-º-º-º
Christian
Christian swerves his SUV past a group of rowdy teenagers. He slows down, as they come closer to his vehicle. They're holding up a spray can menacingly. Christian groans. They better not be the ones spraying piss.
"You fucking racists!" One yells, coming even closer.
Christian pops open his glove compartment, slowing his speed to a crawl. He's got a concealed Glock if he needs it and a taser. He holds his breath.
The teens' anger isn't directed towards him. They walk straight past him and towards two guys who're screaming back on the sidewalk.
Christian squints, sweating a little.
One of the sidewalk men brandishes an assault rifle.
Shaking his head at the scuffle, Christian inches towards a side street and drives away. He pulls over for a second, debating–should he call the cops or get a video? Nah. It won't help anything. He hears sirens and puts his car back into drive.
Christian makes another turn, taking a cumbersome route to Ana's condo. He's fully alert, adrenaline running through his veins. His speaker phone rings. He doesn't notice until the call ends. He clicks the missed call on his touch screen, dialing the number.
"Christian," Flynn enunciates. His therapist's tone contrasts with his current mood. "I wanted to check on your reading. You did a good job with your cognitive distortion exercises. How about the attachment reading?"
"I've read the article," Christian says, looking for Ana's condominium. He's got everything he needs–the crash pads, chalk, and his climbing shoes.
"Tell me about attachment theory, then," Flynn prods. "I'd like to hear your opinion."
"I'm a dismissive avoidant," Christian barks, finding Ana's building. It was a little hard to locate with all the plywood boards covering everything. The whole block looks the same.
"Why Christian?"
"Because I lack interest in forming close relationships with others," Christian says, parking his SUV in the loading lane and puts his hazard lights on.
"How does that impact you?"
Christian's doesn't want to talk. But Flynn. He'll make trouble for him. The man must be a hypnotist.
"Christian, please tell me your perspective on how being a dismissive avoidant impacts you."
"I put too much emphasis on achievements. I can't talk now Flynn."
"Think about it Christian," Flynn preaches.
"Fine," Christian says, ending the call. He shakes his head as he exits his car and walks towards the building. Kicking away a beer can, he's annoyed. Attachment theory. I don't have time for this. He glimpses back at his car. He's parked illegally. He should repark. No. It'll be quick.
Christian walks up to the condominium entrance and finds the call box. He punches Ana's apartment number into the keypad. No answer. Should he call her cell?
A young man in running gear exits the building and holds the door open for him.
"Thanks," Christian offers. He puts on his face mask, as he enters the upscale lobby. The furniture is sparse, he bets there's more furniture in normal times. He presses the button to head to the third floor.
As he waits for the lift, he checks his phone to see if Ana messaged him. Nothing yet. He has two missed messages though. Both his housekeeper and his chief of security are asking for the rest of the day off. He starts typing individual responses, then decides to be more daring. He creates a group message dismissing them both for the day. Something's going on there.
The elevator door opens.
Ana walks out with her face covered with a mask. His eyes focus on her body. It's the first time he's seen her since she left Casa Maria. He blinks slowly, taking it all in. She's as he remembered–beautiful.
Ana's dressed in workout gear. The tight black workout pants accentuate her long legs and taut ass. It's almost too much. Christian's body responds. He tries to calm himself down, as she comes closer to him.
"Hi," Ana whispers.
Christian focuses on her face. "I've missed you."
Her eyes dart away from him. "Sorry the call box doesn't always work..."
"It's fine," Christian says, stepping closer to her. It needs to be done. "I'm sorry about what happened at Casa Maria. I should never have looked at those pictures. It was a mistake"
"You were still sick," Ana says, with a shaky voice. "It's none of my business."
"Ana, come here," Christian says, enveloping her into a bear hug. "Let's forget about it."
She wiggles free, yet her eyes twinkle a little. The mixed signals are still there.
He'll fix this. These things take time.
"You're parked out front?" Ana asks, moving away from him. She gives him the full six feet apart treatment.
"Yes," Christian says, nodding.
Ana averts his gaze and trots past him. She doesn't let him open the door for her.
Stop this. Christian quickens his pace as they walk towards his SUV. He passes her to open the passenger door. "Ladies first."
"Thanks," she murmurs, as he pulls his mask off.
She gasps.
It gives him a thrill. His effect on women. It's still there. He pauses for a second, then reaches to tug the mask off of her face.
"I have the antibodies," He whispers, making extended eye contact. "You probably do too even though you never tested positive."
Ana scratches her neck. "Yeah…um I guess it's fine."
"It's fine," Christian says, staring at her lips. He wants to kiss her. But, he has to wait, until she's ready. He'll get her there. Shutting her door, he walks to the driver side and opens the door.
"Um…Christian," Ana squeaks. "You've had a break-in."
"What?" He asks, leaning towards her, picking up on her scent. It's intoxicating. A fresh, clean scent. He imagines her showering. They could shower together.
"The backseat," Ana says, pointing her index finger to the rear seats.
Christian rotates his body to look backwards and growls. Not again. Some drunk must have thrown a brick at his SUV. The laminated glass kept the pieces from breaking off into his car. At least it didn't get on the crash pads. He'll need to contact a glass specialist. Damn it.
"We've had a few incidents lately," Ana mutters. "Probably people from out of town…I should have told you where to park."
"We'll need to switch vehicles," Christian says, grabbing her hand. He gives it a gentle squeeze.
"Okay," she says, slipping her hand out of his grasp and crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Christian starts driving towards his garage. The sun's out now, and he takes the regular route. He turns up the radio's volume, a soft jazz, trying to ease the tension. "It's no big deal, Ana."
She's frowning.
"Now tell me about the photo you took of the blonde in the bubble bath. Excellent composition. I didn't realize you were into photography."
"So, that's what the text was about!"
Christian reaches his garage and dials his passcode.
The system dings and the iron gate opens.
"What did you study while you were at University?" Christian asks, pulling the SUV into the underground garage. A private facility for his vehicles.
"I umm…" Ana answers, squirming in her seat. "Will insurance cover the window?"
"They will," Christian says, as he parks. It doesn't matter. It'll get fixed. "Did you–"
Ana jumps out of the car.
Christian clenches his jaw. He's not making progress with her. She's too distant. He'll fix this. He gets out of the Audi and finds her inspecting the broken glass.
She reaches her arm out to touch the shattered window."
"No," Christian says, swatting her hand away. "Don't touch that."
She steps back, blushing.
Christian softens his voice. "I don't want you to get hurt…there could be a loose piece." He moves closer to her and tucks a strand a hair behind her ear. He leans in and quickly pecks her forehead. "I've missed you."
Ana bites her lips, taking a few steps away from him. She walks towards his other vehicles.
Christian leans up against his SUV, observing her.
She looks like she has something to say.
He waits. It's worth it.
"Christian…" Ana starts, as she paces back and forth in the garage. "Christian, why didn't you call earlier?"
Christian's heart rate increases.
Ana's eyes pour into him. She's concerned. Vulnerable.
No. He's not ready for this. The real conversation. "We need to head to the boulders. It's peak season, so we should get there early." He opens the back seat of his Audi, pulling a crash pad out. He shakes it out. There's no glass.
Ana's staring at him. Her lips tightening.
"These won't help us if we end up landing on glass," Christian jokes.
She examines the paint on his red Lamborghini, dragging her hands unnaturally across the hood.
Christian exhales. He knows he needs to address the root cause. The elephant in the room. He piles the climbing supplies in his oversized SUV. It's the only available vehicle big enough to fit everything. It's a 2015, making it one of his older vehicles. Should he tell her he's thought of calling her? Mulling it over, he thinks of playing chess, another game with two players.
"Zugzwang," He mumbles. He's stuck in a trap. He presses the key fob closing the trunk. Any move he makes now will put him at disadvantage. He hears her footsteps behind him.
"Did you say something?"
"No," Christian answers, "I'm ready when you are."
Ana walks towards him. Her arms crossed in front of her chest. "I'm not ready. The glass is a bad omen. I should head back."
Christian's heart pounds. He needs to make a move. "I should have called you. I'm sorry. The rest of the day will be fun. Let's head out."
She uncrosses her arms.
Christian freezes in place. Come on Ana.
"Okay, let's head out," she says softly.
Christian breaths out. He guides her to the passenger door of the oversized SUV, touching her on the small of her back.
"There are some drinks in the back if you want one," Christian says, starting the car. A two-hour drive ahead.
"Christian, a warning light is on," Ana says, gesturing to the dashboard.
"It's nothing," Christian says, turning on the satellite radio to the jazz station. He can't take any more disturbances. He's on a mission. Make things right with Ana. Driving out of the garage, he's not sure what making things right entails. It's okay. One step at a time.
º-º-º-º-º
They're been driving for over an hour. Christian sighs. Ana keeps outmaneuvering him. In the last hour, he hasn't gotten any information from her. He's acquiesced to her demands, letting her interview him. He's told her a few stories about climbing. He needs to make progress.
"Now, let's talk about you," Christian says.
"Wait, I need to text my roommate and tell her when I'm coming back," Ana says.
"Okay, but you're not getting out of talking." Christian says, putting the SUV in cruise control. He never told her. He booked a hotel room for them tonight. He tilts his head and checks her out.
She scrunches up her face as she types.
The yellow warning light starts blinking.
"Is everything okay?" Ana asks, finishing up her text message. She puts her phone away and reaches into the glove box. "I could look it up."
"It's fine." Christian assures, pressing a button on the steering wheel to clear the warning notice. "I'll get it checked out later."
"Okay, if you say so…" Ana mumbles. "I'd love to hear about how you started GEH."
"Nope," Christian responds. "We're going to talk about you. You've been stalling."
"What do you want to know that's you haven't already found out?" She teases. "You found my address didn't you."
Christian lowers the volume of the jazz and decides to test the questioning technique. It's a series of questions that build intimacy faster. He cracks a smile thinking how Flynn would be proud. Intimacy is part of secure attachment. He'll win this round. "If you could give one book away for free, what would it be?"
"You haven't heard of it."
"Try me."
"Tess of the D'Ubervilles."
"Why?"
"I was an English Lit major…just enjoyed it."
"Liar, tell me more." An English Lit major. How did she end up at GEH?
"Okay fine," Ana says, taking her phone back out. "I keep a quote on my lock screen. Thomas Hardy inspires me. Would you like to hear it?"
He flicks his eyes in her direction. "Tell me."
Ana starts reading. Her voice wavering some: ""A strong woman who recklessly throws away her strength, she is worse than a weak woman who has never had any strength to throw away.""
"Are you a strong woman?" Christian utters, the words falling out of his mouth.
"I want to be," Ana whispers.
They're both silent for a couple of minutes.
"You are," Christian says, softly. She's not a submissive. She's different.
They make eye contact and Christian's heart races. He's got her. Connected to her. That's what she wants. To be a strong woman.
"Your turn," Ana prods, interrupting his thoughts.
Christian rechecks the navigation system, they've got thirty more minutes until they get to the park. He considers his options. Should he change the topic, give his standard lie, or risk telling her the truth. "No Flynn," he mutters underneath his breath. He's tired of his therapist nagging him to take risks. To connect to other humans.
"Did you say something?"
Christian's clears his throat debating. He usually tells people his favorite book is the Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius's stoic journal–a safe bet.
"Tell me," Ana pleads. "The truth."
Christian exhales. What? She'd known he might lie. He clears his throat again.
She lowers the volume of the jazz even further.
"The Lessons of History," he confesses. He increases the radio volume a little, pressing the button on the steering wheel.
She snorts and reaches to the to lower the volume again. "Not so fast Grey. Tell me why!"
He gives her side eye. "Fine I'll also give you a quote, but I don't need to look it up. The best book you've never heard of. This line explains my success, "History reports that the men who can manage men manage men who can only manage things, and the men who can manage money manage all.""
"Does that mean you manage all?" She pesters.
"Yes," he says. But there's a lump in his throat. He doesn't quite manage Ana yet.
"I have another question for you." Christian announces, changing the subject. "What was the last purchase of $100 or less you bought that significantly impacted your life?"
"Hmm…" Ana pauses. Her face turns bright red. Now curious, Christian encourages her.
"C'mon. Tell me," he says, touching her hand. "You're not scared are you, Ana?"
"It's um…private."
"It impacted your life. Tell me."
"Fine!" Ana quips. "A vibrator, okay. It was my first one."
Blood rushes to Christian's pants. The vehicle's on cruise control. A good thing. He wiggles his legs trying to get comfortable.
"I didn't know…what was possible," Ana pants. "It was a game changer."
Christian's workout pants make his erection clearly visible. Slacks would be preferable. He needs a change in subject. His voice strained he says, "That's good."
Ana gazes downward at his lap and starts a fit of laughter.
"Your fault," he says, joining her in laughter. He imagines her naked body and holds the steering wheel tighter. How does she use a vibrator? He can't ask. Not yet. The earlier tension is gone. They'll enjoy the rest of the ride.
º-º-º-º-º
They pull up to the state park. entering a parking area. Christian reaches to the cooler in the backseat, taking out an orange juice. "You might want some sugar before we go."
Ana nods and takes a sip then squirms a little. H
His eyes linger on her lips a second too long.
"I'll be right back," She yelps, excusing herself as she exits the SUV.
Where's she going?
She scurries to the park restrooms in the corner of the lot.
He pulls out the car manual, looking up the warning light. Searching the index, he determines it is a tail-light issue. Most likely a light bulb issue. No big deal.
Ana walks back towards the vehicle. He decides not to tell her about the taillight. He doesn't want her to have any reasons to leave early. He needs to figure out what he wants with her before she runs off. He stashes the manual underneath his seat. He'll get to the taillight later.
"It's beautiful out here., Ana gushes as she opens up the passenger door. "The air quality is better now than Seattle."
"I love this area," Christian offers. "Let's unload." Christian unpacks the trunk and decides what to take. He hands Ana a backpack, figuring he'll carry both crash pads.
She ties her long hair into a ponytail.
"Don't do that," Christian growls. He wants her hair down. He takes a deep breath. That's not practical for climbing. She's affecting him too much. He's too attracted. He's being celibate too long. Fucking quarantine.
"What?" Ana asks, bending over to stretch her legs. She clasps her hands together behind her back elongating them until her chest pokes out.
"Nothing," Christian says, trying to keep his mouth from gaping. "I'll show you the trail."
They start climbing the simple trail, no signs of other hikers. It's early and the day is perfect. The sun beams through the cloud, but the wind keeps the temperature moderate. The air's crisp and the vegetation is beautiful. No litter. No noise. Just nature.
Ana stops at a map station, snapping a picture with her phone.
Christian reads the warnings. Golden eagle territory.
"They have beginner climbing here, right?" Ana asks, touching the warning signs posted to a nearby tree.
"Yes," Christian responds. "I'll help you."
"Okay…But remember, I might not climb anything."
"Oh, you'll climb," Christian says, chuckling. "We wouldn't want you to miss out."
Ana huffs and start hiking faster.
Christian follows her but she keeps going faster. "Ana slow down. You'll need the energy."
"Keep up," Ana hollers.
Christian's face breaks out into a grin. It's going to be a good day.
º-º-º-º-º
Anastasia
This area is prehistoric looking. The vegetation is overgrown and wild. We stepped into a secret rock garden – what else would you call this place.
Christian puts crash pads down on an area lined with flat rocks beneath a boulder. The pads look similar to tumbling mats you'd see in a gymnastic studio.
I shudder. I'm not sure those mats will protect me. Not at my skill level. If I try to climb, he'd need mats covering the entire ground space. Not just a tiny square.
"We'll start here," Christian says. "It has a beginner route."
"Christian, do you have water," I ask, breathing heavily. A small side stich is forming.
"Yes," he says, reaching into his backpack. "Take this."
"Thanks!" I grab the water bottle from him and take a giant swig. I read the sign next to the boulder. This one's called Twin Boulders. The rock has two peaks. I run my hands over the sharp edge of one of granite ledges. Ouch, this would pierce my skin if I fell.
"Now, pay attention," Christian commands. "I'll show you the easy route." He starts his ascent. He points to different ledges. "These are good crimps. Easy holds."
"Uh huh." I say, trying not to drool.
Christian's forearms doubled since he started climbing. His feet climb the rock, getting to the peak. They dangle from the top bound up in the tight shoes. His calve muscles protrude.
"Wow," I mutter underneath my breath.
"Are you ready to try?" He asks, from the top of the boulder.
"No thanks," I say, gazing up at him. "I'd like to see you climb more."
Christian dismounts gracefully, from the top to a side path. "It's easy to get off."
I nod, mesmerized.
He climbs up the boulder again, this time faster. The muscles of his back strain, peeking out from the top of his shirt. My breath hitches.
"It's not that hard," Christian says, dismounting again. He lands gracefully on the crash pad. "The crimps aren't bad on the right side."
I shake my head. No way.
He stands within a foot of me. "Come on, Ana. Try it."
"I'll pass," I mutter. My heart pounding and my knees weak.
"You don't have to jump down. You can exit from the top. There's a path," he says stepping closer to me.
"Um…no thank you." I back away from him but he follows me.
"This side is for beginners," Christian tables, pointing to where I'm supposed to start. "With the crash pads and a partner, it's safe." He covers my arms with his. Surrounding me with his heat. A caress.
I can't help it. I sink into his arms. He's pulled me into another universe and we're back at the greenhouse. No time has passed.
Christian must notice. He whispers into my ear, "If you climb it, I'll kiss you properly."
"What makes you think I want that?" I stammer, trying to squirm free from his grasp.
"Men always know," Christian says, winking. He releases his grip on me and saunters over to his backpack. "Here's some chalk."
"Chalk?"
"It'll help you climb." He rubs the white powder onto my bare hands and then presses the small of my back, guiding me to specific point. "Start here, I'll spot you."
"But…I'm–"
"You need to try it. Experience it for yourself," Christian says, pulling the second crash pad closer to this side of the rock. His steely glare is back. "Now, Ana."
"I need to tighten my shoes," I mumble, gesturing to my climbing shoes. I bend down to redo the straps. The scratchy sound booms in the open space.
"I'll be spotting you," Christian says, squatting next to me. He holds his hand out to me.
I take it and stand up. Not looking back, I start feeling up the large rock. I rub my fingers over the surface area and try to find the best ledge to hold onto. I'm like a teenage boy feeling up a girl, looking for a bra strap. It's hopeless.
Christian covers his hand with mine. He moves my hand to a hard ridge in the rock. "Put your hand here."
I gulp and put my foot onto a small ledge at the bottom of the boulder.
"Reach higher."
I find a jutting rock and pull myself forward.
"Keep going!" He shouts.
"I can't," I sputter, panicking. I fall into his arms. I'm back on the ground. I never left.
Christian's eyebrows raise. My attempt was not enough.
"There are spiders everywhere," I spit out, coming up with an excuse.
Christian raises an eyebrow. He finds a stick in the nearby grass and clears out the imaginary spiders. "I didn't see any."
I blush. I need a better justification for stopping.
He takes my fingers and places them back on the ledge, "Speed matters, don't wear yourself out by hanging out too long to any one area."
My nose scrunches. "What if I don't want too."
"Then you'll miss out."
"What if I don't give a shit," I mutter. "I don't need this experience."
"You won't know until you try. Give it a real try." We meet eyes. He's challenging me. This is a test.
"Fine," I snap. I move towards the left side of the first boulder. This starting point appeals to me more, the edges appear less sharp.
Christian drags a crash pad towards me.
I smell the rock, taking in the natural scent, and start climbing the rock. Using momentum, I pull my body up.
"Keep going," Christian says.
I'm sweating. Where's the next hold. I'm midway through the rock. Not that high. I could jump off now. What should I grab next? It's like a puzzle I can't solve. I make the mistake of looking down. I'm further up than I thought. My
"Keep your head up. got you!" Christian shouts. "Focus Ana."
I turn back to face the boulder. I can do this. Keep going. Pass the test. I reach up toward a poking out piece of rock, but I can't grip it. My energy wanes as I grab something sturdier. I can't stop now. Going down from this point doesn't seem easier. I'm not sure I can make the jump. My stomach lurches.
"Use your legs!" Christian yells.
I put my hand on a rock, and throw my leg over a narrow ledge, the momentum helps bring my body up.
"That's good Ana."
I use more strength and stand up. I inch my legs into a stable position and find another hole in the rock to step onto. I can see the top from here. Reaching for the root of a tree, I grip it and pull myself up the rock. From the waist up I flatten my body. I scoot myself up until I'm completely onto the peak.
"You okay up there!" Christian shouts. "How did that feel?"
"Amazing," I say, wincing. I move to a sitting position and examine at the cuts on the backs of my fingers. "But I'm never doing it again."
He laughs.
But I don't look down. I wipe the sweat off my brow and exhale. Worth it. It got me to view myself differently. I'm stronger than I thought.
º-º-º-º-º
I'm chilling in the SUV, waiting for Christian to come back from the restroom. We finished climbing a few minutes ago. We were out there for hours. I pull the car mirror down and try to fix my hair, combing it with my fingers. It's pointless. He's already seen me sweating.
"There are some sandwiches in the back," Christian says, as he opens the driver's door. "I know of a good spot to eat."
"As long as I don't have to climb or hike to get there," I say, closing the mirror.
"No exercise required." Christian says, winking. He starts driving out of the parking lot.
"When do you plan to head back to Seattle?"
"There's something I wanted to ask you."
"Another one of your pointed questions?" I jest.
He shakes his head. "No, about tonight."
My breathing gets heavy. Does he want me to spend the night with him, back in his penthouse in Seattle. "Um…what were you thinking?"
"Would you want to stay around here?"
Huh. I squirm in my seat. "Like camping?"
"No, I thought we could stay at a nearby resort."
"It's too late to get a room–" I hedge.
"I reserved us a room earlier this week in case we wanted to stay longer."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I simper, averting my gaze. It's is too fast.
"Why?"
Should I tell him the truth? A strong woman. I want to be a strong woman. A picture of the boulder flashes in my mind. "We want different things."
"You want a boyfriend."
"Yes," I say, wincing. He shouldn't make me say it. It's not a bad thing to want a relationship.
We drive in silence for a few minutes.
My heart pounds in my chest. I should go home now. Read more books. This is too much. I don't like having to lay it all out there, while he gets to be quiet. I turn to face the window.
Christian parks near an outdoor gazebo overlooking a small lake. He jumps out his seat, opening mine.
I crack a smile, loving the small gentlemanly gesture. But, he's not yours. My smile turns into a frown. "Thanks."
He takes my hand once I get out of the SUV. We walk together towards the lake. A flock of starlings move in complex directions, synchronizing their movements. A miracle of nature. Those birds communicate better than I do.
"I never gave you your prize," Christian says, leaning in to kiss me. It's gentle at first. Then he increases the pressure.
I can't help kissing him back, letting his tongue enter my mouth and stir my senses. His smell. His taste. My body's on fire.
He pulls me in closer and moves to kiss my neck.
It awakens me. I push him away. "I shouldn't do this. We want different things. Let's head back."
"Don't do this," Christian says, taking a step back. His eyes plead with me. "Don't make it complicated."
"That's not fair," I retort. "It is complicated. For me."
"You want fairness?"
"Let's just go back Christian." I whisper, crossing my arms and walking towards the SUV. I open the passenger door and sit down. I try to shut the door, but he doesn't let me.
Christian holds it open and stares at me. "Anastasia, you need to tell me what you want."
My heart races. Stop looking at me.
"Tell me exactly what you want."
"I want to be your girlfriend," I spit out, holding his gaze.
Christian breaks eye contact first. He opens his arms up, making a wide gesture. "We don't know each other that well. Let's get to know each other first. We have plenty of time."
"No. I don't want that," I say. My voice is steady. I am strong. "I know you very well. Have you forgotten our time together quarantining? I took care of you while you were sick. Don't tell me I don't know you!"
He shakes his head and stops holding the passenger door. He puts his hands up to his hair. "Ana, this is–"
I shut the door. I've heard enough.
Christian starts walking towards the lake, kicking the dirt. Good anger management.
"He sucks," I mutter. He should never have invited me here.
Christian throws a rock into the lake.
I don't care. I told him the truth. If he can't handle it or doesn't want it, that's fine. I fight the desire to kiss him again, to forget about my needs. But, I'm stronger than that.
"Enough. It's time to move on," I say out loud. I pull my phone out. What should I tell Kate? I'll be back soon.
Christian opens my door again. "Ana."
I jerk in the seat, squirreling away.
He moves closer. "Ana, I'll do it."
"Do what?"
"Date you."
I'm speechless.
"Come here, girlfriend." He teases, picking me up and carrying me out of the car.
We're both sweaty from the climbing but I don't care. He carries me to the gazebo. When he sets me down on the bench, I kiss him. I suddenly have all the energy in the world. I've never kissed anyone that hard.