Disclaimer: I do not own FSOG!
Quick thing. While texting, Christian is bold and Ana is bold and italic.
Enjoy!
From: Christian Grey
To: Anastasia Steele
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:15 PM
Subject: Good Evening Sunshine
Hope you arrived safe and sound to your apartment.
I am sitting in my home office and a beautiful woman won't leave my thoughts. How is a man supposed to get any work done when he has you on his mind?
Christian Grey
CEO of Grey Enterprise Holdings
From: Anastasia Steele
To: Christian Grey
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:20 PM
Subject: Hello Pumpkin
Hey, Christian. Yes, I arrived S&S. How gallant of you to ask.
Sorry for the intrusion Don't mean to be a bother.
Ana
From: Christian Grey
To: Anastasia Steele
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:22 PM
Subject: Am I Still Pumpkin?
Good to hear, Ana.
Believe me when I say I don't mind your intrusion. I encourage—no, I beg—you to stay for however long you like. You are more than welcome.
My weekend is cleared completely from Friday to Sunday. Which day would you like to have dinner?
Christian Grey
CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings
From: Anastasia Steele
To: Christian Grey
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:25 PM
Subject: Daddy Then?
Then I shall stay.
My weekend is clear, too. I get out of work at 4:30 on Fridays.
Ana
From: Christian Grey
To: Anastasia Steele
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:27 PM
Subject: You're Killing Me Here
Friday it is then. Would you like me to pick you up after you get off?
Christian Grey
CEO of Grey Enterprise Holdings
From: Anastasia Steele
To: Christian Grey
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:29 PM
Subject: Oh, But I Like Daddy
Isn't 4:30 a little too early to have dinner? How about you pick me up at my apartment instead? I'd like the chance get out of my work clothes before going on a date with you.
Ana
From: Christian Grey
To: Anastasia Steele
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:30 PM
Subject: My Palm Is Twitching
We could have found a way to pass the time, I'm sure. You could be wearing a burlap sack and still look amazing, but if you want to doll yourself up for me, I'm not complaining. How does 7:30 sound?
Christian Grey
CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings
From: Anastasia Steele
To: Christian Grey
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:33 PM
Subject: How Scary
Yes, we could have, but then we might have missed dinner, and this girl has got to eat. Perfect. I'll be ready, and I might just take you up on that. I'll text you my address.
Ana
From: Christian Grey
To: Anastasia Steele
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:35 PM
Subject: Careful or Else You'll Find Yourself Over My Knee
Great. It's a date.
Christian Grey
CEO of Grey Enterprise Holdings
From: Anastasia Steele
To: Christian Grey
Date: Monday 12, 2015 at 7:40 PM
Subject: Promise?
OK. Can't wait.
Sweet dreams
Ana
Today is Friday, my dinner date with Ana. Since Monday evening when I first emailed her, I've been restless, waiting for today. I hate waiting. However, my patience is about to be rewarded. Currently, I am sitting in the back of one of my Audi SUVs with Taylor driving and Sawyer riding shotgun.
I'm staring at my phone's background picture, which is of Ana. Last night, as per new custom, I'd sent Ana a good night text. In response, she sent one also but attached a photo. It's a selfie of her without makeup, hair in disarray, and her all cuddle up in bed. I saved it as my screen background immediately after using it. Afterwards, I thanked her for helping me relieve some tension. She texted back a laughing emoji.
Smiling, I gaze at her photo and trace the outline of her face. I hope I'll be seeing this tonight or in the morning.
I'm brought out of my perverted fantasies when I feel Taylor park the SUV.
Quickly, I sent off a text to Ana. Just arrived.
You're early. I thought we agreed on 7:30?
Confused, I look at my watch. Shit, I am early, too early. It's nine past seven. Sorry, I misjudged the traffic. I was eager to see you again and did not want to be late. Do you still need time?
I just need to put my dress on. And shoes. You can come up if you'd like.
OK. I'll be right up. "Taylor," I say, unbuckling my seatbelt. "Keep the car warm. I'm going up."
"Yes, Sir." Always stoic, as I pay him to be.
Fourth floor, apartment 13. I'll leave the door unlocked. Let yourself in.
That is completely unsafe, Anastasia.
Bite me
Oh, I will, I think, grinning. I walk inside the lobby, which is just a desk with no one behind it. Where is the security? I see one camera facing the entrance, only one. My smile gone, I take out my phone and text Sawyer to do a quick security check of Ana's building. When Sawyer followed her around, he never entered her building.
I step into one of the two elevators and press the button for her floor. A short ride and six steps later, I stand in front of her door. I knock and then twist the doorknob. Unlocked, as she said. She is undeniably getting a red and sore ass later tonight. I don't know when or where, but she is. Leaving her door unlocked, and with the lack of security in her building, too! My palm is twitching.
"Ana?" I call out as I cross the threshold.
"In my room!" I hear her shout. "Be right there! Make yourself at home."
Alright then. My eyes scan her apartment. Small, but cozy. Warm is the right way to describe her living space. Gray and pink, fitting I think. On her coffee table, is a white vase empty of flowers, and my heart nearly stops. Crap, should I have brought her flowers? Oh, fuck! How the hell did that slip my mind? Of course, I should have gotten her flowers. It's tradition to bring your date flowers. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Next time. Hopefully, if I don't fuck the rest of the night up. Fuck. Hopefully, she wasn't expecting them. Next time, I promise to myself. I'll be sure to have Gail, Taylor, Andrea, and who the fuck else remind me next time.
During another survey of her home, I spy an unusual bookshelf tucked neatly in the corner of her living room. It looks like a tree with a thick trunk and wide shelves to replace branches. I go to it. It's overflowing with books, classic novels it looks likes. I like it; it's something I would buy, but it's too small for all the novels I have at Escala.
"My dad custom made it for my tenth birthday." I jump slightly, startled. Ana was standing behind me.
Turning, I say, "He had talent. It's exquisite." I finally see her. "As are you, Sunshine." My eyes travel every inch of her, and it's still not enough. Her hair is pinned back to show her beautiful face, her soft wavy hair framing her delicate features perfectly. Her makeup is flawless, just mascara and bright red lipstick. My god. She's wearing a white fit and flare dress that ends just past her knees, very classy for a first date. With that, she wears her nude heels that she wore on Monday for work. I frown at that. Only designer's shoes should be gracing her small feet. Still, she is breathtaking. No jewelry.
"Damn," I whisper before dipping my head to kiss her.
She giggles and places her hands on my stomach to prevent me from getting closer to her. "I don't think you'll be happy if I stained your lips red, Christian."
I remove her hands, hold them in mine, and smile down at her. "I don't give a fuck." With that, I lean down and press my lips to hers. I can feel her smiling.
We stay lip-locked for a few moments, but when I press my growing erection into her belly, her stomach growls loudly. Well, that can wait. I need to feed my Ana. I laugh. "Hungry, are we?"
She blushes, and a little snort escapes her. "You have no idea."
"Well then, shall we?" I gesture to the door and hold my arm out for her. She grabs her purse that is hanging on a coat rack and laces her arm through mine.
"We shall."
Ana and I have just been served, a grilled lime salmon with coconut rice for her and ribeye steak with shrimp for me. "How are you going to eat all of that?" Ana asks, pointing at my plate with her fork. "It looks as if it's for two people, not one."
"It is," I say while spearing a shrimp and piece of steak. "I've gotten this before here, and I never leave any scraps." I put the food in my mouth, savouring the flavors. This dish is unquestionably my favorite in my restaurant, the Mile-High Club.
She shrugs, unconvinced. "I'll believe it when I see it." She takes a bite of her food, and a moan escapes her. After swallowing, she exclaims, "Damn, this is good chicken." Quickly, as if her food might vanish, she stuffs more into her mouth.
Meanwhile, I'm carefully chewing and fighting an erection from the sexy little noises that she's making. If I were to close my eyes and think back to our one night stand, her moans then and now would be the nearly the same. I love that she isn't a shy eater, though. Means that she won't be silently starving herself whenever we dine together in the future.
After swallowing my last shrimp, I gulp some wine. So far, we're both half ways done with our food. We've both been busy scarfing down our meal, we've neglected to talk. Though I think that should worry me, it doesn't. I'm pleased she places eating above making conversation. Then again, she had said she was hungry.
I clear my throat to get her attention. When her eyes leave her plate, I ask, "When was the last time you ate?"
She thinks for a moment, then admits, "I had a banana this morning."
"You've only eaten a banana today?" I am aghast as she nods. "That is not a meal. Why didn't you eat lunch?" I hope this isn't an everyday occurrence. That will not do.
Ana holds her hands up. "Breakfast was my fault; I will admit that. I was running late and grabbed something I could eat while waiting for the elevator."
"And lunch? Whose fault is that?"
She grimaces. "Indirectly, mine, too. There was an accident on my way to work and the traffic was killer. I was late by forty minutes. I called one of my co-workers to warn my boss, but he was still pissed off." Ana stabs another bite into her mouth.
Alarmed, I demand, "Your boss refused to let you eat lunch?"
I feel my hackles raise when she nods. "He wanted me to make up the work I could have done if I'd arrived on time."
"He cannot legally keep you from eating lunch. What the fuck! By law, he is required to give you at least half an hour of every five-hour shift. Did you write up a complaint to HR?" What a fucking prick! I'll have to look into her background check to see who her boss is.
"I tried," Ana answered. At my silent prompting, she explains, "When I tried to, the Head of HR told me it was my problem, not hers. She then phoned my boss to tell him that I tried to write a complaint against him, and he gave me a whole bunch of crap work that an intern could have done and told me I needed to complete all of it plus the two manuscripts I already had by today or he'll fire me. I stayed until six to finish everything."
Following her long rant, I take my phone out and email Ros to research everything she can on SIP. When finished, I put my phone away and focus on Ana. She's glaring at her plate. The sight forces a smile from me. I don't think she realizes how cute her glares actually are. Quickly, I take my phone out anew and take a photo of her.
The clicking sound draws her attention to me. "Sorry," I say, insincerely. "You looked so adorable I wanted to capture the moment." I tuck my phone back inside my jacket.
Ana lost her glare and looks confused. "Adorable?"
"Adorable," I confirm whilst taking the final bite of my meal. "See, I told you I could finish it."
Letting my first comment go, she giggles. "Where did you put it away? There is no way you finished all of that."
Jokingly, I say, "If you'd paid more attention to me than your food, you would have seen it."
She just laughs. After she takes her last bite—she ate everything unsurprisingly—the waiter comes by to refill our glasses and clear away our plates with the promise to bring out our take home desert. When we ordered earlier and the waiter had mentioned desert, Ana had run her bare foot up my thigh near my crotch. Upon seeing her flirty smile and promise in her eyes, I ordered a tripled-layered chocolate cake to go.
While we wait, Ana looks around the restaurant, biting her lip. I reach across the table and grasp her hand. She returns her attention to me. Appearing completely in awe, she says, "This place is amazing, Christian. And the food was phenomenal. How did you get a reservation on such short notice? Last week, my boss had me try to make a reservation for him and a client, but I was told that they were completely booked to December." Again, she studies the room and the other diners.
I suppose from her perspective—growing up in a middle-income home—the Mile-High Club could be considered extremely fancy. I eat here at least once a week for business meetings and such so I've grown numb to it. I try to see the room from her point of view, but I can't. It's just a bunch of tables, expensive china and silverware, good wine, and competent waiters. Well, the food always makes me moan in appreciation so I might not be totally desensitized.
I squeeze her hand, and her attention is brought back from ogling the place. "That doesn't surprise me. Unless you have high-standing with the owner, you'll have to wait two to four months for a reservation."
"Oh, and you have high standing with the owner?"
I smirk. "I am the owner." I laugh when her mouth plops open in shock.
"You own all of this?" With her free hand, she gestures to the whole room. "I didn't know you were this well off."
"How do you think I'm able to afford a penthouse in Escala?" I ask, confused now. Doesn't she know who I am? She didn't know that Mile-High is mine, but it wouldn't show at the top of the many things I own if she were to Google me.
"I thought you were a trust fund baby," she admits embarrassedly.
What? Annoyed, I snap, "I can assure you that my parents did not give me a cent for my penthouse, businesses, or anything else. I did it myself by old-fashioned hard work and determination." Ana snatches her hand back when I unintentionally squeeze it too hard. She looks at me wide-eyed.
"I'm s-sorry. I didn't mean anything by it." She drops her eyes and hides her hands under the table.
I sigh and run a hand over my hair. Great, I think I just fucked my chances of getting fucked. And I was so close, too. "Ana," I say, "I'm the one that needs to apologize. I shouldn't have snapped at you. It was a harmless assumption." I do feel guilty snapping at her. When she still refuses to meet my eyes, I add, "Truly, Ana, forgive me. It won't happen again."
She finally looks up at me. "It's fine, Christian, it was me that made the unfair assumption. It's only natural for you to get sensitive about it after you worked so hard on your own."
Silence ensues. Damn it, it was all going so well. When we first arrived, we went through the basic family and how-was-your-day questions. I informed her about being adopted and how annoying growing up with siblings could be, namely my brother Elliot. My day was spent waiting anxiously for our date tonight. She gave me basically what her background check revealed, but downplayed Cason a lot. I planned to ask more after settling back at Escala.
Well, I think that plan has been shot down. I run a hand over my hair again. How can I convince her to come back with me after talking to her like that and hurting her hand? As I'm plotting my next move of action to get me some action, the waiter returns with our desert. After wishing us a wonderful night, he scurries off. I pick up the bag with the cake while Ana and I rise from our seats. I'm slightly soothed when she offers me one of her sweet smiles. Perhaps the night isn't completely ruined. We make our way to the elevators.
"Wait!" Ana exclaims, almost turning back. "We forgot to pay!"
I laugh and place my hand on her waist to prevent her from returning to our table. "Remember, I own this place."
"Oh, that's right." She smiles sheepishly up at me. "I forgot." She hasn't removed my hand, so that must be a sign that she isn't upset with me.
We're the only ones that enter the elevator. The doors close, and I press for the parking garage. Experimentally, I move myself to stand in front of her. Our eyes are locked, and I relish in the sexual tension that envelopes us as soon as we are alone. Slowly, so she sees my intention, I lean down until her lips are just inches away from mine. Ana turns her face up.
I take that as an invitation. Aware of the bag in my one hand, I remove my other one from around her small waist and bring it up to cup her face. There, now just an inch apart. I wait. She hesitates, not knowing why I stopped. I wait for a few more seconds until she grabs my face in both of her hands and forces me down to meet her lips with an audible smack. Thankfully, our teeth don't knock together.
Unlike the kiss back at her apartment, we don't pull apart and there's nothing sweet about it. Our tongues are dancing, hers submitting to mine like that first night together. I back her into the wall, our lips not breaking. Removing my hand from her face, I cup her breast, squeeze where I know her nipple is and then move it to grab her ass. If I didn't have plans for this cake, I would have just let it fall to ruins so I could use both hands to grope her.
"Spend the night with me," I demand, pressing her as close to me as possible.
Between kisses, she moans, "Okay."
We are gasping when the elevator comes to a stop. With just a moment to spare straightening our clothes, the doors open. As efficient as ever, Taylor and Sawyer are standing next to the car, waiting. I give Ana a quick kiss, smiling upon noticing her red lipstick is smeared. Knowing that I probably look the same pleases me. Not bothering to try to wipe it off, I just take her hand and lead her to the SUV.
"Sir," Taylor reports when we are closer. "It was leaked you were on a date. Paparazzi are just beginning to arrive."
"How the fuck did that get out?" I exclaim, startling Ana with the sudden outburst. I try to smile apologetically, but it comes out twisted. She looks at me concerned and confused. "Were we photographed entering?"
"Now, I don't believe so, sir." Taylor pauses. "Reynolds just messaged that nine photographers are at Escala and he predicts more."
"Fuck." I can't make Ana go through that. The moment they have her face, they'll get her name, and then start hounding her. I can't have those leeches scaring her away from me.
"Why would the paparazzi care about you being on a date, Christian?" Ana asks, still confused.
Sighing, I reply, "I can't answer that because I myself don't see the fascination. I'm a very well off business man. I've never publicly dated anyone so I imagine this is a breaking news to them."
"Are you famous?" She asks, alarmed.
"I'm not a celebrity but I am well-known in and around Seattle."
I open Ana's door for her while Taylor starts the vehicle. Sawyer stands behind me while holding the cake, then closes my door as soon as I'm in. Although he probably guessing that I'd planned to take Ana to Escala, Taylor still asks, "Are we dropping Ms. Steele off, sir?"
Good question, Taylor, I think. Seeing that she doesn't fully understand what her going back to Escala might mean, I explain. "Ana, there are going to be people at my place waiting for a picture of us. More likely than not, they'll find out who you are and start harassing you. Do you want to come with me still? I want you to spend the night, but I don't want you to be hounded when they find out what's your name, address, and place of work."
She's quiet, sneaking glances to the security up front while blushing. After a beat, she says, "I want to be with you, too." Ana turns her gaze to me. "We can go back to my place. It's not a penthouse, but they won't know we're there."
Her place? Surprised, I think of the scenarios. She comes to Escala with me, and the possibility that they'll begin to hound her after. She goes home, and I go to Escala; I get hounded and no sex. Or I go spend the night with her, no hounding and I get sex. I think there's a clear winner here.
"Taylor, Ms. Steele's place."
A/N: I got my information regarding lunch regulations online, so if my information is off please don't attack me.
Hope you all enjoyed. As always, thanks to everyone that has favorite-d, followed, and reviewed :)