Chapter Two-Ideas

Nobody speaks for what seems like hours and I'm too ashamed to look up and see everyone's disappointing gazes.

"Well, this is awkward," I hear Elliot mumble beside me.

This is way beyond awkward. This is excruciating.

"I don't understand," my father says. "How could you not have graduated? We've been paying for you to go to school for the past two years and you mean to tell me it was all for nothing?"

I once again shift in my seat. "You haven't been paying for my education, Dad; you've been paying for me to live in London."

I chance a glance at him. Confusion and bewilderment is written all over his face.

"Wait, so you're saying mom and dad have been paying for you to go to college, but you haven't even been going?" I turn to look at Mia, irritated that's she called me out, yet impressed at her perceptiveness.

I look back at my plate. "Basically," I mumble.

I hear a chair scrape back and then I hear my father's voice bellow, "Christian Grey, my office. Now!"

He doesn't even wait for me to follow him. He stomps away, fully expecting me to follow him like a dog with its tail between its legs. I throw my napkin on top of my plate. No one says anything as I stand up. They're all just staring at me. I happen to see Ana's face when I stand up and I'm surprised and confused when I see shock yet admiration in her eyes. I frown. That woman is so confusing.

I slowly walk towards my father's office. I find my dad pacing behind his desk. He doesn't even look up when I shut the door behind me. I stand there, not knowing what to really say or do.

He makes the decision for me. "Sit down, Christian," he mutters.

I cautiously take a seat in one of his dark leather chairs and avoid eye contact. He paces for a few more moments, then I hear him sigh and sink down into his chair.

"What's going on, son? What's this all about?" he asks me softly, startling me. I was expecting him to yell and chew my ass out.

I'm not really sure how to explain so I just shrug my shoulders.

"Look at me, Christian." I do as he asks. "Why didn't you tell me and your mother that you weren't attending school?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't understand," I tell him, gazing at his green eyes.

"Understand what?" he calmly asks.

"That I never wanted to go to school, Dad!" I tell him, getting riled up. I stand up, running my hands through my hair and begin pacing. "I'm pretty sure I told you before I left that I didn't want to go to school, but you really gave me no choice. Didn't you ever really think about why I wanted to go to London in the first place?" I don't give him a chance to answer. "It was so I could make my own decisions! I knew you and mom would just make surprise visits and try to keep tabs on me if I stayed here. I figured it would be harder to do that if I was overseas and you and mom didn't have the time to fly out whenever you wanted."

I'm standing behind the chair I just vacated as I stare at my father. He's staring back at me and it looks like he's at a loss for words. He sighs and leans forward, running his hand through his hair and then placing his elbows on the desk, folding his hands in front of his mouth.

"So," he begins quietly, "if you weren't attending class, what we're you doing?"

I sit down in the chair. "Interning at Schwartz & Billingsley."

He raises his brows but makes no other movement. "And the money we've sent you?" he asks, his tone soft.

"Paid for food and an apartment."

He purses his lips, shakes his head and gazes at me, indecisiveness clear in his eyes. "I don't even know what to say, Christian. I can honestly tell you I wasn't expecting this, especially from you." He shakes his head. "I think you should go to your room. Tell your mother to meet me in here," he says, his voice filled with disappointment.

I sigh as I wordlessly stand up and leave his office. I go back into the dining room and tell my mother that her husband wants her, then go to my room without saying a word to anyone else.

I don't know how long I've been staring at my wall as I lay on my bed, but it feels like years. I don't know what my mom and dad are talking about, probably a way to punish me for not finishing school. I know I should have told them, but like I told my dad, they wouldn't have understood. They think since they came from families that have only graduated from the most prestigious schools, that life is nothing without education, and I agree that in certain circumstances that's true. But I don't fall into that circumstance. I know what I want to do and I know I don't need an education to be able to do it.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear a knock on my door. I glance at it, wishing I could see who was on the other side, but I just end up grunting, letting whoever's behind it know they can come in.

I'm surprised to see that it's my brother. He was the last person I thought would be the first person I would see after that disaster.

"Hey, bro," he says sitting down on the end of my bed. "You sure do know how to make a homecoming celebration a memorable one." He chuckles.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes right now, Elliot," I mutter, not appreciating him making a joke about something serious.

He sighs. "I'm sorry; I just thought I would try to cheer you up."

"Well you're not helping." I look down at him. "Is that why you came up here?"

"No, I wanted to see if you were okay." I just stare at him. He sighs and leans against the wall. "It's tough, being a Grey. I know how it feels to disappoint mom and dad." He looks at me. "Remember after I came home from MIT I told them I graduated with a degree in Architecture instead of Law?" I nod my head. "Yeah, they weren't too happy; well I should say dad wasn't too happy. He so wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I couldn't see myself going down that path." He stops talking and stares at my bathroom door.

Shaking his head and turning to look at me, he says, "I'm telling you this because I was in your exact shoes. I know how it feels to be a disappointment, but you're not." He shrugs. "I'm proud of you. You stood up for what you wanted to do, and I know how badly all children want to make their parents happy, but we're living for ourselves not them, right?"

I give a small smile and nod. "Anyways, I just wanted to check on you." He smiles and pats my leg, then stands up.

"Thanks, Lelliot."

He grins. "No problem, baby bro."

He steps out and begins to close the door, but I call out his name before he shuts it completely. He peeks his head back inside.

"Yeah?"

I sit up. "You said dad was disappointed in you, and I know how dad can be. I know he didn't give you the money to pay off school or start Grey Construction, so how did you pay for it all?"

He frowns. "The trust fund Papa and Nana Beth set up."

"You have a trust fund?" I ask disbelieving.

His frown deepens and he steps back into my room. "We all do." When he sees my shocked expression he explains. "Each of us has a trust fund of seven hundred thousand dollars. I was told they've been dumping money into it since each of us were born. You really didn't know about it?"

I shake my head.

"I thought everyone knew." He shakes his head and shrugs. "Anyway, Papa was adamant that we couldn't get our hands on it until we turned twenty-five or we got married, which ever happened first."

I frown. "But you're only twenty-three and you're not married," I point out.

"I know, but I talked to Nana Beth about my predicament and she let me get it anyway. So I got Papa's trust fund, now I'm waiting to turn thirty so I can get my hands on Gramps' trust fund." My eyes grow wide. "What? You didn't know about that one either?" I shake my head. He only chuckles. "It's like you've been gone longer than two years, bro. Anyway, none of us can get Gramps' trust fund open until we're thirty. And no he won't bend on it, I've already tried."

"So you think if I just talk to Papa he'll let me open my trust fund early?"

Elliot shrugs. "He might, but I got Nana Beth to persuade him to let me open mine."

I nod my head at him as I stare into space.

"Are you coming back down stairs? I think Ray and Ana are about to leave," he remarks.

"Uh, yeah. I'll be down in a moment," I murmur. A few seconds later I hear to the door close.

I fall back onto my bed and think of logical excuses and sound reasoning I can use to persuade my grandfather to let me get to my trust fund early. When I have everything pinpointed in my head, I dash down stairs and go into the dining room. It's completely empty but I hear voices and laughter coming from the family room. I spot my grandfather immediately when I walk into the room.

"Papa, can I speak to you a moment?" I ask.

Everyone stops talking and looks at me, I notice that the Steele's are still here but my mother and father aren't in the room. They're probably still discussing my sentence.

"Sure, boy. I was planning on having a chat with you anyway." He stands up and walks over to me. Reaching his arm out, he throws it over my shoulder. "Come with me to the library."

I silently follow him. When we get inside he closes the door behind him and walks towards the two high-backed leather chairs facing the stone fireplace.

"Sit," he says, motioning to the opposite seat. I do as I'm told.

He folds his hands in his lap and crosses his leg at the knee.

Staring at me, he says, "Now what is it you wanted to talk about, son?"

I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable. My nervousness isn't helping; I want him to agree to what I want.

"Well," I begin, "I was told that all of the Grey grandchildren have a trust fund that you and Nana Beth have set up for us, and I know the stipulations, but I was wondering if I could open mine early?" I glance at him, but he's expressionless. I give him my thought out speech as to why he should do this for me. When I'm finished, he's still gazing at me as if I haven't said one word to him.

He rubs his hand against his chin. "So what you're telling me is that since you think you've basically been cheated two years of your life, you think I should give you seven hundred thousand dollars early to make up for that lost time and to start up this business you're wanting?"

I clear my throat. "Well I wouldn't have worded it like that, but essentially, yes."

He raises his brow up at me, but he's silent for a few moments. "You know, I think you're a talented, brilliant young man, and I hope you know I would do anything I can for you, but this just isn't one of those things, Christian."

I stare at him disbelieving, not wanting to accept the words I'm hearing. I try to keep my anger and aggravation in check. "Why isn't it?"

He folds his arms against his chest. "Well, frankly, I don't think you're all that mature to handle so much money. And then there's the fact that you manipulated your parents into paying for your expenses while you were out doing God knows what in London."

I stand up in a rush, my fury over taking me. "I was working while I was in London, despite what you or you high handed wife would like to think. And I didn't manipulate my parents; they paid for my welfare, so how would that be perceived as me taking advantage of them? You know what? This is bullshit! You let Elliot get his money early!"

He stares up at me, his eyes hard and body stiff. "If I can recall correctly, Elliot graduated from college. And don't ever let me hear you disrespect your grandmother again, Christian Grey."

I ignore his last statement. "So that's what it's always going to come down to, isn't it? Poor Christian didn't get his college degree, he might as well throw in the towel on his life now, right? Right?" I scream. "I guess I'll still be begging for money for another four years until someone has enough faith in me to succeed." I glare at him and don't bother sticking around to hear what he has to say. Stomping out of the library, I slam the door behind me and make my way towards my room.

When I round the corner to get to the stairs, I see my parents saying goodbye to Ana and Ray. My mother spots me as I climb the stairs.

"Christian, come say goodbye to Ana and Ray."

"Bye," I mumble, not even bothering to turn around and look at them.

I'm surprised I don't hear Ana make any smart ass remarks as I trail up the stairs, but even if she did I wouldn't have cared. I just want to be alone. I don't want to talk to anyone. And I sure as hell don't want to see my family.

When I get to my room I strip down to my boxers and get into bed, making sure I locked my door before I get comfortable. After a few minutes of silently staring into space I try to think of any other options I may have. Clearly I won't be twenty-five any time soon, and I'm sure as hell not getting married, I mean how could I, I don't even have a girlfriend. But then again even if I did I wouldn't marry her, I'm way too young to be tying the knot.

I laugh at myself when I think about just paying a girl to marry me for a while, and then sometime after I've gotten my money just get an annulment. I wouldn't like the fact that I would have to actually get married, but it'd be worth it with the opportunities that would come with it. We wouldn't have to be intimate either. We would just keep things simple, put on a little show, and then when everything is said and done just go our separate ways.

Ah, if only life was that simple.

I sit up. Who says it couldn't be that simple? Why can't I just bribe a girl to marry me so I can get my money? It's the perfect plan. I'm sure I can find a girl who would agree, but I don't want someone who's clingy and will be expecting more than I'm willing to give.

I get out of bed and pick up my trousers, digging in my pockets to get my phone. I go through my contacts and decide which girl would be the best.

Amber? No.

Alicia? Hell no.

Brittany? No, she's psycho.

Brianna? No. Not marriage material.

Bailey? Definitely not.

Celia? Fuck no.

Ciara? Why would I even ask myself that?

Dianne? Ugh, why do I still have her number?

I flop back on my bed as I continue to scroll through names. Who knew I even had so many girls' numbers? I frown and sit up when I come across the name She-Devil. It takes me a minute to remember who it is, but when I do it's like a light bulb goes off in my head.

"Anastasia. Perfect."

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