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Chapter Sixteen.
Unreachable.
Ana.

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Over the past week, I've tormented myself. I've spent more time at Grey House, than most of the staff who are paid to be there have, and truthfully, more than my own sanity has allowed.

I've joined the gym at Grey House, and even been in contact with Christian's personnel trainer, but it was pointless. I haven't caught a glimpse of Christian using the gym, and Claude Bastille, isn't taking on any new clients right now. Despite, the extortionate hourly rate I offered him. I'm still jogging around Seattle every morning, hoping I'll touch lucky and see Christian, but our paths have never crossed again.

On a positive note, I feel better within myself, due to all the exercise I'm getting. I'd forgotten, how much I love to run, so it's not all bad.

I've spent hours in the Grey House coffee shop. After being remembered for bumping into Christian, I've become quite friendly with the server but even that hasn't amounted to anything. Christian, has never had any sort of regular pattern to popping in, or so she tells me. The day I was unfortunate enough to bump into him, was a rarity in its self.

She told me, that he now requests for his coffee to be sent up.

The Grey House book store has been a true pleasure and taken up a lot of my time. I'm blissed out, browsing and reading in there, and I have to constantly remind myself that it's a re-con visit, and not purely for my own pleasure. I can't help it though. I just get so lost within the pages of the book that I have in my hands at the time, and before I know it, I'm lost in the window seat and a morning has passed. The Chippendale's, could have entered, even performed around me, and I wouldn't have noticed a thing.

Never mind, Christian's passing car.

I've spent time at the music store too. I know Christian plays piano, his bio told me, and I'm sure I've heard him. The feel of the store changes, whenever the dark, tormentingly sad notes begin to float from the private playing room, located at the back of the store.

It has to be him.

Not that I've ever seen anyone coming or going, there must be a back way in, but the staff won't confirm it. I've gotten to know a few of them, as I purchased a new guitar and pop in often. They're friendly enough, but not very forthcoming with information about Christian. No matter how much I try to inquire about the doleful and illusive performer, they're very tight lipped, but I know it's him.

The music, is like the man himself, hard, angry and gut wrenching. They tell me, that the pianist doesn't like to be bothered by anyone when he visits, and have strict instructions to never bother him. I can understand why they remain tight lipped, they're scared of being fired.

It's Friday now, and I've spent time at Grey House, had a quick chat with Will, to catch up and touch base, and whiled away my day. There's nothing new, but Will, did contact Christian's office. After getting passed from pillar to post, he managed to secure himself an appointment. It's regarding something totally bogus, but even so, he still has to wait for nearly a month for his allocated ten minute time slot.

Christian, is most certainly a very busy man.

A total workaholic.

Sad, really.

He's also very elusive. I know where he is and what he's doing. I just can't seem to time things, so that our paths cross again. I feel like I've been trying to reach him for forever, yet, I've only been in Seattle for a short time. It's so frustrating, just waiting. I hate sitting back and hoping for another opportunity to fall into my lap.

I want to march right up to his office and knock on his door, but I know that'll never be a possibility. I've passed by the front of Grey House a few times this week, and despite changing my attire in order to blend in, the burley security guard, still gives me the stink eye whenever he sees me pass by.

I've seen the witch of a receptionist too, popping in and out of the coffee shop. She's never noticed me, though. She looks right through people like they don't exist, and I'm so temped to entertain the patrons again by bumping into her. I considered, for just a fraction of a second, that I could befriend her. Maybe earn her trust and get an appointment or a phone number from her. But no, I couldn't stomach it.

I hoped, that the name and number on the card Jason Taylor gave me would lead somewhere, but it rang straight through to the accounts department of Grey House, and of course, they wouldn't even consider forwarding my call to Mr Taylor. Never mind Christian, or his office.

The only glimmer of hope, is that there are a few social events happening before Will's appointment. One such event, is an honorary dinner for a retiring banker, but Will, isn't very optimistic and doesn't expect Christian to attend. He very rarely does. The other engagement is one that we know for definite Christian will be attending. His mother's charity, is hosting a masquerade Gala.

Will, his wife and their daughter, have all been invited, but their daughter is thankfully, for me anyway, out of town. So there are a few opportunities on the horizon for me to get near him... but here and now, on Friday. I have to take what I can get.

I'm sitting on the beach, just out of sight of Christian's house. I followed his sleek, little sports car here about an hour ago. Well, I tried to. He lost me the second we left the city, but I knew where he was going and soon caught up.
As I drove passed Christian's house and parked up further down the road. His girlfriend Leila arrived. She drove past me in her little red Audi, looking all windswept and beautiful. Now, my eyes are firmly averted from the house.

I'm pretending to be an ordinary tourist. Just a normal person, enjoying the setting sun, still warm sand, and soft, comforting breeze. I'm trying hard to ignore my shame, anxiety and increasing inner fear. The fear, that comes from being a certified stalker.

Seeing Leila Williams in person, is something I've wanted to do since I found out about her. The photo's that Will's managed to get of her, aren't very clear. They also, never did her any justice.

She's svelte, pretty and appears confident, if the way she strode into Christian's house is any indication, and I'd like to know more about her. I'd like to know more about the woman, that's turned the cold, hard, tyrants head. He can't be all bad, if he has a steady girlfriend.

I'm very dubious about encroaching on Leila, though. I've been fighting the urge to visit where she lives, since finding out about her on Monday, because stalking Christian is one thing, stalking a complete stranger is something else. I don't ever want to upset Christian, or his girlfriend. Or, my own peace of mind for that matter. So, there has to be limits to what I'll allow myself to do.

But what does she have that no one else does?

Curiosity, is a persistent thing. It grows and takes over and the devil is definitely perched on my shoulder at this moment in time. Now, I know exactly where she is. She's safely away from home and the urge is to strong to ignore. She's here with Christian and has no reason to go back to her apartment. The coast is clear. I think I'll take a quick peak at where she lives. Just a quick drive by on my way home. She'll never know.

Plus, this is her time with Christian, and I don't know if I'm ready to see that. I don't really want that image in my head yet. I've not seen them together, and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't really fancy watching them frolicking on the beach, taking moonlit strolls or dining on the patio.

I glance around the beach as I pick myself up from the sand and begin to walk back to my car. It's a loverly secluded bit of coast here. There are half a dozen, beautiful houses, arcing around the horse shoe inlet. It's beautiful, private and serene.

I chuckle to myself as I climb back into my car. Making a mental note to look into rentals on the beach, once I'm back at the hotel.

As I'm sure I can spot a Realtors sign, two houses down.
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