DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN FSOG. THE CHARACTERS AND SUCH BELONG SOLELY TO E.L. JAMES.

Author's note at the bottom.

Enjoy!

CPOV

The fucker who called my girl Rose glares down at me in distaste. Surprised by her obviously-not-gay-friend's hostility, I turn to Anastasia in question. Who the fuck is this asshole? Her attention isn't focused on me, though. She's smiling brightly, albeit a tad stiffly, at the fucker.

"Case," she says warmly, waving her hand at him.

I'd suspected—or hoped, whatever—that her friend was homosexual. However, when he faced her, his eyes quickly drifted down to her cleavage, which Anastasia had modestly displayed. Also, this man was in his forties. At the least, his late thirties. And the fucker was good looking. If Mom and Mia were here, they'd swoon.

Similarly, I'd expected someone . . . friendly. Anastasia didn't strike me as the type of person to be friends with an antagonistic person. This asshat hasn't uttered a word to me, but I'm quite aware of what kind of nasty individual this man is. Just by the way he carries himself and especially how he is glaring at me unprovoked. Not that I give two shits what he thinks of me. My only worry is if his opinion is of high value to Anastasia.

An awkward silence ensues after Anastasia's greeting. I look between them. Case stares at Anastasia, pointedly ignoring me. Anastasia's smile vanished somewhere when I was assessing her friend. Now, she met Case's eyes as if she were challenging him.

Anastasia clears her throat and breaks eye contact with him. Gesturing, she introduces us. "Case, Christian Grey. Christian, Cason Westbrook." Wait, her former foster dad? Well, her background did reveal the two of them were close. Perhaps that's why he doesn't like me. He did foster her after all. He must view her as his daughter.

With a practiced ease, I school my features to display an open friendliness. Though I'd much rather give him my "CEO" face—as my siblings call it—I do understand the urge to be protective. I'm like that with Mia. Hell, if I met someone she had a one night stand with, much less him wanting to propose to have a fuckfest as I with Anastasia, I'd pummel his ass to the ground prior to ruining his career. From the cold look Cason is sending in my direction, he must be feeling that same way now. I need to play this carefully.

I hold out my hand and manage a smile. "Good to meet you."

Cason hides a grimace—I saw it, doubt Ana did—and reluctantly extends his. "Likewise." His grip is too tight to be considered polite, but if this fucker expects me to cringe in pain, he has another thing coming.

I want to crush his hand in my own, but I am sure that would be counterproductive in my aim to get him to like me. But as moments go by with him attempting to break my fingers, I think, Fuck it. He'll just have to tolerate me so long as I am in Anastasia's life. I tighten my hold on his hand. Sure enough, he winces and withdraws instantly.

While trying to discreetly shake his hand out, he asks Rose, "I thought we'd arranged for an intimate lunch, just the two of us?" Intimate?

"Oh, well, Christian and I ran into each other on our way here, and as he was eating lunch here as well, I figured I'd invite him. The more the merrier." She smiles sweetly. A little too sweetly, I think.

Cason returns his eyes to me. I can tell from his tense features that he was trying to force the grimace off his face. "Well, I'm going to order my sandwich." With that, he saunters off to the "online orders only" line. Am I the only one that didn't know of that secret fucking line?

"He's really not that bad once you get to know him."

I twist my torso to look at Anastasia. "I found him quite charming, actually," I joke. Jokes aren't exactly my forte, but I find it comes effortlessly with her. Why her?

She smiles sincerely. "No, really. He can be a bit high-handed, but he'll grow on you."

"Why does he call you, 'Rose?'" I lift my sandwich and take a bite. Holy crap, this is delicious. I inwardly groan.

She chews her first bite and swallows. "It's my middle name. He likes it better than my actual name." There's a pause as she chews and swallows another bite. "That reminds me. You don't have to keep calling me, 'Anastasia.' 'Ana' works just fine."

"What if I prefer your full name?" I challenge, watching her eat. How is everything this young woman does a turn on? Yeah, take a big bite of that sandwich, sweetheart. . . Fuck, she's made me weird.

"You can if you want, but I'd rather you call me something other than that. It reminds me of the times my mom or dad would scold me."

Finished with a half of my sandwich, I pick up the other. "Dove. Pipsqueak. Sunshine. Baby. Take your pick."

She laughs. "Okay, first, I'm not a baby, so don't call me that. I'm not that short, so no to pipsqueak. And don't you think about calling me after a soap brand." She takes a gulp of her lemonade.

Laughing, I say, "All right, fine. You're stuck with sunshine."

"Only if I can call you, 'Daddy.'" She whispers seductively. I choke on my sandwich. "What's wrong—Daddy." Ana pats me on the back, between my shoulder blades. No reaction other than the tightening of my pants. Fucking hell, she's amazing.

I clear my throat, and swallow. "Watch yourself, little girl," I lean close to put my lips to her ear. "I'll spank you the next time we're alone." I lean back and relish in the look of pure shock and arousal on her face.

"So, how did the two of you meet?" Cason abruptly says, startling Ana and myself apart. Simultaneously, we look at him sliding himself into the seat across from us. "Had to be recent as you've never mentioned him before, Rose." He takes a bite of his club, which seems to be the same one I've got.

As she's slow to answer, I decide to take it upon myself. "We met at a club a little over a week ago."

"Club? You don't like those public places with their loud music." Then, his face goes still. "A week ago, you said, Chris." I nod, holding back a retort on his shortened version of my name. "So, two Saturdays ago?"

"Yes. I asked her to dance, and we had a fun night." Fun night of fucking, but there's no way I'm telling him that. "We just re-connected today."

Cason kept sifting his gaze between Ana and myself, anger and disgust clouding his face. I feel myself tense. "This is the guy you fucked?" From the edge of my vision, I see Ana is flabbergasted.

I sit up straighter, surprised myself. "That is between Anastasia and myself. It's no concern of yours."

"She's mi—," Cason starts, but is promptly interrupted by Ana.

"We talked about this!" She whispers harshly, looking around the restaurant to make sure no one else heard.

Taylor heard, and he's watching Cason closely. When he notices my eye on him, I give a subtle shake of my head to let him know to not intervene. I don't want to cause a scene. He sits back, but keeps his eyes on our table. If the proclamation surprised him, too, he didn't show it.

Ana continues. "I'm not a kid. We were both consenting adults, and I don't need you breathing down my neck. I'm not yours to worry after anymore."

Her words make him turn red, but other than that, he shows no other sign that he heard her. He is glaring at me as if he wants to strangle me.

I wonder what he was going to say before he was interrupted. Also, what did Ana mean when she said she wasn't his anymore? As in his dependent, did she mean? Disturbingly, when his eyes did shift to her, I can only see possessiveness. That is nothing a parental figure should feel towards his unofficial adoptive daughter. It's nothing like how Carrick looks at Mia. However, I do recognize that look from somewhere; I just can't place it. Cason is staring at Ana like she's his his. It's wrong, like how . . . how . . .

Before I finish that disturbing thought, Ana speaks up again. "I'm not asking you to like it, but at least except it."

It's silent at our table, and awkward. I don't know what to say. The unfinished, disturbing thought is still circling in my head, but I'm trying to focus on anything but that. It's to . . . nauseating.

Ana is silently finishing the last of her skinny little sandwich. I have a few bites left of mine. I haven't even touched my water. With that, I drink until it's all gone. Cason is eating slowing, almost as if it's killing him. And still glaring at me.

"I think it's time I head back to work." Ana says when she's completely done with her food and drink. She stands after gathering all her trash. "I'll talk to you another time, Case."

I follow suit. "Yes, I'll walk with you." Together, we dump our trash, and head out the door. At a backward glance, I find Cason staring after Ana longingly. Taylor is following us out a few steps behind.

We walk in the direction we came, not saying a word. Me because I'm still disturbed. I can only assume Ana is mortified.

"I am so sorry. I had no idea he was going to bring that night up." Ana says quietly, peeking up at me from under her lashes.

I try to reassure her. "I understand. My only question is how does he know about that night?" I have another question, but I don't think she'll appreciate it all that much.

"He called me the morning after. We'd had plans for breakfast but I never showed, so he was checking on me," she explains. "He'd called me a few times, actually, but I had my phone on silent. When I didn't answer, he checked with my friend, Kate, who I'd been with that night. She told him that I'd left for home, but he was on his way there so I told him I wasn't home. He put two and two together. This was our first time seeing each other since that day, actually."

"Is this your first offense?" I try to joke, but it falls flat. "How do you know him?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Um, I've known him since I was thirteen. He and my dad apparently knew each other from their military days, but I believe he was younger than my dad. My dad passed away in my late teens, and Cason took it upon himself to take me in."

"I'm sorry for your loss." I say.

"Thank you."

The conversation lulls for a moment. As we maneuver our way through lunch hour foot traffic, I realize we're close to our "meeting" point.

I clear my throat noisily. Fuck, my palms are sweaty. I've never asked anyone to a date before. I know a date was a back-up plan in case she wasn't up to a repeat of our one-night stand, but after lunch together—when we were alone—I find I truly enjoy our banter. I enjoy her, period. I want more time with her without interruptions. Now I need to play it cool. How odd is it that I have no reservations talking sex with her, but for a simple date, I find myself nervous?

"Sunshine," I begin, hoping the pet name will begin to ease the tension left from Cason, "would you like to have dinner with me?"

It works. A smile graces her pretty face. Giggling, my sunshine says, "I'd love to, pumpkin."

So first off, I want to say I'm so sorry for the delayed chapter :( I kept rewriting it, then I decided to join different versions, and then summer semester started and I lost the time. Mostly though, I couldn't figure out how to put Christian and Cason in the same room. I thought I had it figured out, but the first two times did not work for me. Finally, I got it tonight. All mistakes are mine; I don't have a beta and I don't know how to get one.

Hope you enjoyed reading. Big thanks to all who reviewed, followed, and faved.

Quick question. Now that you've seen my writing style on both Christian and Ana, which do you prefer? I personally find it easier writing for Christian for some odd reason. Thanks for your feedback:)