Hello all! I think I've finally hit my stride with lesson planning, grading, etc. Hopefully I can update more often, but I won't promise anything; transitioning to the life of a steadily and gainfully employed adult has not been easy for me. If I could stay home and write all day I would, but unfortunately my student loans make that an impossible option. Thank you for being patient, and I especially want to thank those of you who have sent me encouraging PMs and reviews. You're all awesome.

This chapter took me in a completely different direction than I had anticipated, but I wanted to introduce some conflict outside of the relationship between Christian and Ana. In writing the chapter this way, I could do that. I enjoy exploring different POVs, but I suck at writing in third person, so this is how I went about it. Anyway, for those of you who don't enjoy a little Flynn action, the next chapter will have some Christian and Ana interaction and a little Mia for good measure.

Also, I have a Pinterest for this story. There isn't much, but there's some! /naiadv/what-if/

Enjoy!

Chapter 6: The Head Doctor

June 6, 2011

Flynn

I don't normally schedule patients during my lunch hour. It isn't normal practice, but I had to make an exception in light of Christian's abnormally normal weekend.

Having found myself completely taken aback by his revelations Sunday afternoon, I e-mailed both Christian and Andrea my availability for the week immediately after hanging up with Christian. Wanting to see me as soon as possible to hash out his new-found, and rather confused, feelings, he swiftly agreed to a lunch session on Monday over an evening visit later in the week. He even promised to bring in something for us to eat during today's appointment. So, not only will I be thoroughly entertained and generously compensated, but I'll also be well-fed.

Because my lunch hour is being taken over by Mr. Grey, I had to leave my house an hour earlier than I normally would in order to finish up a rather daunting stack of paperwork regarding my newest patient, an employer-mandated patient. I'm not exactly a morning person, so this is the first time I've been in the office to witness the bi-monthly power struggle between my receptionist and Christian's PA, Andrea.

I had an inkling that Andrea would be calling at some point this morning to exert Christian's will over my schedule, so I'm not completely surprised when the familiar sound of Marlena's shoes interrupts the quiet calm of my office.

"John?" she says from the doorway with a hint of annoyance in her tone. I glance up over the frame of my reading glasses, setting the file aside, and find that Marlena has dyed her hair from bleach blond to an inky purple so dark it's nearly black. There's one hot pink stripe of hair down the side of her face. Her wardrobe, however, is still impeccably professional, so who am I to complain?

"You dyed your hair," I smile and lean back in my chair. She rolls her eyes at my comment, surely suspecting that I'm fully aware of why she's come in here.

"Umm…yeah, I did." Marlena clears her throat and crosses her arms in front of her body. "I have Mr. Grey's assistant on the line and apparently he's insisting-once again-that you go to his office for his appointment."

While Christian ranks high on my list of favorite patients, my receptionist, and the one before her, feels very differently about the man. To Marlena, Christian Grey is nothing more than a giant thorn in her side. Besides having Andrea call and try to convince me go to Grey House nearly every time he has an appointment, Christian has a number of other habits that irritate my employee. If he has to wait in the lobby for his session to begin, he throws a fit and aims his angry 'do you have any idea how valuable my time is?' rant at her. He also never seems to call her by the correct name, but she and I both know he's aware of his mistake. Christian Grey just doesn't forget that type of thing.

"And what did you say?" I ask, already knowing her answer.

"You don't go out of the office unless it's a real emergency." I silently finish her sentence in my thoughts with and Mr. Grey's ego isn't a real emergency.

"The usual response."

"Yes," she agrees. "The usual response."

"Then what are you doing in here?" Marlena never asks me about these things.

"Andrea wanted me to make sure." She pauses, pursing her lips. "I always feel a little bad for her when this happens. Mr. Grey can be so…surly when he wants to be."

"Surly," I repeat, testing out the word as a descriptor for Christian. "I like it." I smile and Marlena raises an eyebrow, dry as ever. "Tell Andrea you can send her a list of my openings for the rest of the week if he needs to reschedule."

"He won't reschedule," Marlena mumbles as she turns around to leave the office.

She's right, of course. Christian won't reschedule; he's just being difficult for the sake of being difficult. Though, I'm sure his irritable and recalcitrant personality is being enhanced by the mysterious woman he mentioned after the commencement ceremony and told me more about yesterday, after actually meeting her. If he's feeling like he doesn't have control of a situation, he will try to exert his will over other areas of his life, like my schedule.

I sit back in my desk chair and close my eyes, contemplating the day I have before me. It's a busy one, back-to-back patients until five o'clock. At seven o'clock, my oldest boy has a tee ball game, and while watching twenty or so six year olds try to play a sport is entertaining, I would much prefer to go home and relax. But such is the life of a working parent.

Marlena re-enters the room after a few minutes and says the words I predicted would come out of her mouth. "Mr. Grey will be here at noon and he expects you," she lifts her hands slightly above her shoulders, curling her middle and pointer fingers in the universal sign of quotations before looking at a post-it note stuck to her thumb, "'to be ready and waiting' for him."

I chuckle and Marlena grins. "He is quite predictable isn't he?"

"Predictable? Yes, he is." She shifts her head from side to side and purses her hot pink-painted lips, as if she's thinking extra hard. "But, I can think of a few other choice adjectives to describe him."

"Yeah, well…so can I." Marlena turns to walk out of the room, but I stop her just before she strides out the threshold. "Marlena?"

"Yes, John?"

"Just send my first patient in as soon as he gets here." She cocks her head, silently questioning my request. "Maybe if we can get my morning patients in and out in their allotted time, then maybe we can be ready and waiting for Mr. Grey when he gets here."

"You're far too accommodating when it comes to him."

"Maybe," I shrug. "But, I would much rather have a pleasant working lunch over a miserable one." She snaps her fingers and points at me, acknowledging the validity of the statement.

"Consider it done."

With that, Marlena leaves the room and I'm left, once again, with the open folder for my newest client. Apparently, my first patient of the day has a bit of a problem with anger management and a bigger problem with sexually harassing other employees. He was reprimanded three weeks ago for having an inter-office affair with his former assistant, who has since left her position. She alleged that they didn't have an affair, but that he had been actively, and aggressively, pursuing her since she'd been hired at Seattle Independent Publishing two months prior to their being found out. He, however, insists that they two had been in a relationship for some time.

The young woman claims she filed a complaint with the Human Resources Director at the little company, but there's no record to attest to the claim. A week ago, he showed up her apartment and she had him arrested. She claims he had been stalking her, but since she had no real evidence and he said something to the contrary, he was let go without charges. When his boss caught wind of the additional trouble, he was met with the ultimatum of attending counseling or finding a new job.

Since this session is employer-mandated, I'm expected this new patient to be somewhat uncooperative, which will be a wonderful addition to my day.

I was able to secure a copy of his legal record, and in looking at his record before the stalking shows a man prone to angry, violent outbursts. His history of arrests ranges from bar fights to a road-rage confrontation, but what concerns me most is a sexual indecency charge filed four years ago. The angry outbursts and the stalking are a dangerous combination, and I'm glad that he's been required to seek counseling before it's too late.

At twenty minutes to nine o'clock, Marlena pages me through our intercom system to inform me that Mr. Hyde is here and on his way in. The wooden doors to the office open and I'm met with the friendly smile of a man one would never suspect to have such deviousness in him. His approach is one of complete confidence. Friendly, enigmatic, cool. Interesting.

"Mr. Hyde," I greet, smiling, "it's nice to meet you." His hand meets mine in a strong, confident grip, and his smile grows a little wider.

"Please, Doctor," he says, "call me Jack." The words roll off his tongue, like it's a practiced greeting; one he uses all the time. I get the sense that it's to put his acquaintances at ease with him, because he isn't an easy man to get along with.

"And you can call me Flynn or John, whatever name you prefer." I gesture to a the couch and the chair situated across from the chair I always occupy during appointments. "Take a seat and we can get down to business."

Jack settles in the over-stuffed armchair opposite mine, and crosses his left ankle over his right knee. I take a moment to properly take in his appearance. His red hair is pulled back into a low ponytail and his ears are adorned with a number of small silver hoops. Three in one ear and two in the other. His pants and shirt are pressed, but he doesn't wear a tie. He shifts under my scrutiny and the smile he's been sporting since he came in falters just a touch, revealing that he isn't as at ease as he appears.

"I understand that this is mandated by your employer, and you probably don't want to be here, but this is for your benefit, ultimately." He nods his head and shifts once again. "Now, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself and the situation that got you into this mess."

For the next twenty minutes, Jack Hyde talks my ear off about his life. Despite his unfortunate early life with a drug-addicted mother in Detroit and his bouncing around from foster family to foster family, later in life he went to Princeton on a full scholarship and eventually worked his way into his current position at SIP. He gives me a very detailed sexual background that would make most people blush, but in comparison to some of the shit Christian has used to shock me, I'm left unfazed. Unfazed and convinced that most of what Jack says is a part of an elaborate lie. Something about the way this man speaks leads me to believe that most of what he says is untrue, and that he thinks highly of himself. I'm sure to make note of his apparent narcissism in his file.

"You've done quite well for yourself," I acknowledge.

"I have. Yes," he replies, emphatically nodding his head. I find it interesting that he never explained his side of the stalking situation that has put him in my office today.

"Now, will you explain what brings you into my office today?" Hyde shifts in his seat, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward a touch. His hands turn up and he shrugs his shoulders, as if to show his confusion over the entire situation.

"I know you've probably heard this from every person in my situation, but this really is an enormous misunderstanding." I smile, because this is exactly what I hear from all of my mandated patients.

"Misunderstanding, how?"

"Well, Sabrina and I were in a relationship. I ended it after realizing how unprofessional I was being." He clears his throat and the corners of his mouth pull up just a touch. Jack's foot taps against the wooden foot of the chair, and I realize he's lying when his eyes move from my face to a spot immediately above my head. "She didn't take it well. Sabrina quit of her own accord, and it made me come to my senses."

"Come to your senses how?"

"I realized that I cared more for her than I was willing to admit at the time."

"Is that why you went to her apartment?"

"Yes," he concedes, once again smiling widely. "I wanted her to know that I made a mistake, but she didn't understand. She told me she only only started up with me to get a promotion faster than she would have otherwise."

"How did that make you feel?" I ask, growing tired of this story. I've dealt with liars before. All kinds of them, but there is something about this man that feels dangerous. He doesn't just lie. He knows how to lie and get away with it. It's almost like he believes what he's saying.

"I'll admit…it made me angry. I yelled at her, but I never hurt her like she said I did." I grab the papers in my file, flipping through them when I realize that I have no memory of an assault in the papers given to me by Jerry Roach or the cops. With this slip, I begin to suspect that he did hurt her in some way.

"Hmm," I mumble, imploring him to go on and tell me more about the encounter. When he remains silent, I glance up and notice that his face has fallen, the pleasant mask he put on upon entering the office gone. "There's no mention of an assault in my papers."

"Oh, well, I thought she told the police I hurt her. I didn't."

I smile the warmest smile I can muster, and shuffle the papers together in an effort to put them in an orderly stack. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah," he says, shortly. "I'm over it. Over her, that is." Hyde pauses momentarily and fixes his cold eyes on mine. "Sabrina obviously has issues. She fucked me just to get ahead at work-those were the words out of her mouth." He smiles, eyes still focused on me, and I get the feeling that this is an intimidation tactic. Well, it isn't going to work on me. "There are plenty of other women I can find to suit my needs."

"Plenty?" I look over the wire rim of my reading glasses to get a better look at the narcissistic prick across from me.

"Plenty," he affirms. Jack begins to talk about his alleged womanizing ways, once again, and I take furtive notes. This man has many obvious, glaring issues that we will never be able to figure out in the three sessions ordered by his boss. After another ten minutes of him telling me about what a ladies' man he is, Jack says something that completely takes me off guard. "Besides, my new assistant starts today."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand what that has to do with anything we've discussed." Surely he isn't going to try something with another one of his assistants; that's just…dumb.

"I just mean that I'll have something to distract me from everything with Sabrina," he explains, shifting in his seat and looking anywhere but at me. "You know," he grins an ominously lecherous grin, "training her and what not. It takes a lot of extra work. Hard work."

I stare at him open-mouthed, in complete disbelief that he would even allude to the fact that he might start something with his new assistant. Suddenly, at the one hour mark, the timer on my tablet goes off. "Time's up, Jack." We both stand and I walk Hyde to the door. "Just check out with Marlena and she'll set you up with your next appointment."

"Flynn," he says, with an exhausted, irritated sigh. "John. You and I both know that I don't need these sessions. It was a misunderstanding. Surely, there's something we could work out." There it is, that smile. The one that screams condescension and oozes indifference.

"Well, this is employer-mandated, so unless you want to lose your job, you're stuck with me," I reply, smiling. "Just two more appointments and you're good to go."

Hyde's smile fades at my failure to acquiesce to his need to get out of the required appointments. I would love to dismiss him now, and work with people I could actually help, but I agreed to do this as a favor to his boss; Jerry has a son the same age as my my oldest. Jack turns and stomps out of my office, stopping with an agitated glance back at me in front of Marlena's station.

Rolling my eyes and sighing, I shut the door to my office and go back over to my desk. My next two patients are regulars. They're easy and predictable, and I know that these appointments will be nothing like that last one. There are some people who are beyond help, and a man like Jack Hyde is incapable of changing his ways without intense therapy. Or prison. The three appointments I'll have with him, won't be enough. Not even close to enough.

At exactly noon, Christian stalks into my office with Taylor following close behind, his hands fulls of whatever delicious lunch my favorite patient has decided to bring today. With his eyes glued to his phone, Christian takes a seat at the small dining table next to bay windows and motions to Taylor to set the food down there.

Ever the most efficient employee, Taylor sets the paper bags on the table and nods at both Christian and myself, despite the fact that his boss's eyes are still stuck to his phone. Turning on his heel, Taylor exits the room as quietly as he entered, even managing to close the doors behind him.

"What did you bring us today?" I smile, but Christian just glances at me with his signature scowl, clearly unimpressed with my inflexibility of location, and shrugs his shoulders. His eyes return to his phone and I hold out hope that he'll warm up soon enough.

I begin unloading the bag, box by box, and Christian rises from his chair. When he starts pacing around the office like a caged animal, I have to suppress the chuckle building up in my throat. Clearly, he's feeling a bit anxious about something. Could it be about his new love interest?

I settle down in the chair opposite Christian's and open each box, letting the unleashed aroma of Matt's* catfish sandwiches fill my nostrils. Unsurprisingly, the food will be as delicious as I was anticipating.

"Brilliant," I mutter, my mouth watering at the delectable sight in front of me. I glance around the room and find Christian standing near my desk, eyes still fixed on his phone. He knows my policy on cellular devices during session; he must be trying extra hard to irritate me today. "Are you going to come eat, Christian? Or will you be on your phone for the hour?" If so, I'm charging you double for wasting my time.

At that comment, Christian's eyes blink up to mine, but his grim expression remains and his mouth stays resolutely shut. Whatever his problem is, it's deeper than being bothered by my unwillingness to go to his office for our meeting. He pushes himself away from my desk and stalks toward the table, running one hand through his already mussed hair and clutching his phone in the other.

He sits down at the table and opens his box of food, and when he digs into his sandwich, I finally do the same. The wait had been nearly killing me, as it smells so incredibly amazing. We munch in silence for several minutes before I try speaking to my surly patient again.

"So, how did your Sunday lunch go?" I ask, genuinely curious about his answer. It's been plaguing me for the last twenty-four hours, and I can't wait to find out how it went. A part of me is sure that he scared the poor girl off after showing her one of his infamous contracts, but another smaller part of me has complete faith that he actually followed my advice.

"Fine," he clips like a moody adolescent, never looking across the table at me; his eyes are glued to the phone now resting next to the cardboard box his lunch is in. I'm still more than a little miffed at his obsession with his phone and his reticence to interact with me, but one word is better than nothing at this point.

"Sooo, what brings you here this afternoon?" This conversation is like pulling teeth. Christian shoots me a look that belies his irritation with my line of questioning. He's acting more adolescent than normal today.

At twenty-one minutes after twelve, Christian still hasn't said anything more than his clipped fine. As I watch him watch his phone, my irritation grows a little hotter. He knows how much I hate when he brings his work with him.

"If you knew you were just going to work through lunch, you should have just stayed at Grey House and cancelled your appointment."

"I'm not working," he says, gazing at me impassively.

"Whatever you're doing, it's quite-"

I'm interrupted by the loud sound of his cell vibrating on the wooden tabletop. The corners of Christian's lips perk up into an uncharacteristically boyish grin, and I find myself completely flabbergasted by the sight. Smiling? In my office? Christian Grey? This is certainly an odd turn of events. His fingers work furiously over the keypad and I watch, delighted to see him so…delighted. My curiosity is piqued.

"If it isn't work then what-"

Once again, I'm interrupted. But this time, it's by Christian raising one of his fingers in my direction, indicating that he needs another minute alone with his phone. I bite the insides of my lips to stop myself from saying something I'll regret. That has to be the most irritating thing he's ever done to me. Ever. And he has some very irritating quirks.

After a moment he looks back up at me, but his expression is no longer grave. His entire countenance seems more relaxed, more joyous than I've ever seen him. He motions for me to continue what I was saying, but the moment I open my mouth his phone goes off again and his attention is taken from me.

"If whatever is going on with your phone isn't work, then what can be so colossally important that you can't put it down to commence the session you requested?" I raise my eyebrows when Christian fails to look up at me despite the tone I've just taken with him. It works with my kids all the time. This is rather strange, and I'm growing more exasperated by the minute. I look down at the watch Christian gave me for Christmas two years ago. "It's been twenty-eight minutes Christian, and I do have patients after I'm done with you."

Christian looks up and sets his phone back on the table. "It isn't work," he repeats, and I know that he's finally ready to talk.

"Then what is it?"

"It's Anastasia," he replys, quietly. His eyes finally meet mine and I realize that the smile that was on his face moments earlier is still present.

"Oh," I say. "I…you're texting her?" Shocked. Completely shocked.

"Clearly."

"About yesterday?"

He sighs, relaxing back into his seat and shutting up the now empty box of food he inhaled. His hand goes to the bridge of his nose, applying pressure and showing just how out of his element he really is with this girl.

"Not about yesterday, but she and I should probably talk about that at some point." He pauses, looking up at the ceiling as if searching for what he wants to say next. "I sent her flowers today."

I choke slightly on the tiny bite of sandwich I just put into my mouth, and rush to grab the bottle of water next to my meal. Christian chuckles, but continues talking while I cough and splutter through my surprise.

"For her first day of at her new job. They were to be delivered during her lunch break. So, no, I wasn't working, I was waiting to hear from Ana."

Once I get my coughing under control, I find my voice. "What did she say? Did she like them?"

"She says she did," he replies, sounding a little unsure.

"But you aren't sure?" He nods his head, frowning slightly. "What kind of flowers did you send her?"

"Two dozen long-stemmed, white roses." He swallows and runs his fingers through his hair, shrugging his shoulders as he continues. "Her middle name is Rose, and white roses are supposed to say 'I'm thinking of you'. And I am…thinking of her, that is."

It takes all my effort to keep my jaw in place and continue on with the conversation. "I'm sure she liked them. That was very thoughtful of you."

"That's what she said," he smirks.

"So, I take it that lunch went well?"

"It did." His smile grows broader, and it's a look I've never seen on him before. "I followed your advice, despite a minor hiccup."

"You followed my advice?" I think back to the conversation we had yesterday in an attempt to remember what advice I gave him. I get a little giddy when I remember exactly what I said. "Which part?"

"Well, I just went with it. I didn't try to plan out exactly how everything was going to happen. And…and I kissed her. I think she wanted me to. I know she wanted me to."

I smile at him. "You kissed her?"

"Yes, and it was like I couldn't even help myself. It just…happened and it felt right." He pauses and grins at me. "And I didn't take out a submissive contract for her to look over. I don't think she would be into th-" The buzzing of Christian's phone interrupts our now flourishing conversation. His eyes dart between the phone and me, but the phone wins the battle when he reaches for it.

"By all means, please answer it." This is probably the most interested I've ever been in a client's life. The fact that it's big news for Christian to be interested in a woman speaks volumes for how unusual his relationships-if you can call them that-are.

He takes a moment to wrap up his reply, smiling the whole time, and then slips his phone into his pocket. "She has to get back to work."

"But you'll speak with her soon?"

"Hopefully. I'll definitely see her on Saturday, though. My mother and Mia invited her to Coping Together."

"Will you be sitting together?"

"Yes," he grins. "I might even try to finagle a situation in which I walk with her down the carpet."

"You normally do that with your sister or Elena." I cringe as I say that woman's name.

"Mia has a date, and Elena can walk with Isaac if she really needs a chaperone." That woman is a predator and pedophile, and the only person who can't recognize that is sitting across from me.

"Okay, back to our earlier conversation about yesterday," I say, clapping my hands together. "So, the two of you kissed, but you mentioned a hiccup."

"Yes. Um…Elena showed up." My mood immediately sours, but something in his tone is off. Christian doesn't usually sound so cool while speaking of his abuser…I mean mentor.

"How did that go?"

"Not well. She's upset about Molly's dismissal, and she was shocked to see Ana and I practically on top of one another in the kitchen." He lets out a long sigh that turns into quiet laughter. "She basically insinuated that I'm too fucked up for someone like Anastasia, and I definitely agree with that assertion, but I don't really care." I give him a questioning look, but he simply shrugs his shoulders and chuckles once again. "I did at first, but as soon as I was alone with Ana, everything Elena said just flew out the proverbial window. If something feels as good as being with her does, how can it be a bad thing? It might be selfish, because I'm probably doomed to hurt her, but for now, I'm just going to 'go with it' like you suggested."

"Well, it seems like you know what you want."

Christian rolls his eyes and mouths, "SFBT? To be honest, I don't know what I want exactly. More time with Ana? I don't really know beyond that."

"It's a good start," I offer, feeling a little triumphant. This is probably Christian's biggest breakthrough to date: standing up to Elena and pursuing a woman without a contract in one day! Amazing. The self-loathing is still there, but we can continue to work on that. "Now, you mentioned something yesterday about your loss of control when you're around Anastasia?"

He lets out a little groan and rubs his hands over his face. "Yeah, I did. I don't really know how to describe what I'm feeling, but when I'm around her I lose all self-control. There's this energy-if that makes any sense-between us that…I don't know how to explain it." Christian stops talking to gather whatever thoughts are running through his over-worked mind. "Okay. It's like we're magnets. I'm drawn to her. If Ana's in a room, I feel like I'm unconsciously drawn toward her. I need to touch her or breathe her in or…something. When I got on the elevator with her yesterday, whatever it is went wild. I couldn't tear myself away. I've never felt that before."

"But…?" I coax.

"But, it feels like a good kind of loss. Does that make sense?"

"I think so." I stop and study Christian for a moment. "Christian, most people have felt this way in their lives. You've heard the expression 'falling for someone'?" He nods. "I think that's what's happening."

He shakes his head. "Like falling in love?" I nod and he laughs. "You're funny, Flynn. We both know I'm incapable of that."

"I'm still holding out hope." I look at the time on my tablet and see that we have five minutes left. "Tell me more about Ana. What do you like about her?"

"Well, she's beautiful, but completely unaware of how attractive she really is." He smiles as he thinks about her. "Yesterday she wore jeans and a tshirt and looked better than any of the women who try to throw themselves at me. No makeup either. It's refreshing to be around a woman who isn't trying to snag me by looking or dressing in a way she thinks will impress me. She knows who she is and doesn't apologize for it. And she's smart. She knows things that I've never even thought about."

Considering Christian seems to know everything, this intrigues me. "Like what?"

"Grammar rules. She actually knows them, and yesterday she gave me a mini lesson on good and well and one's an adjective but the other's an adverb. We're discussing that in further detail at a later date…hopefully."

"You hate grammar," I joke.

"I don't hate grammar," he laughs. "I just hate it when my mother corrects mine. She always makes me feel like I should have an English tutor, when I know I don't sound like idiot." He pauses, still smiling. "Or at least I don't sound like an idiot until my mother corrects me."

We both laugh. Two minutes left, and just before I'm about to call it, Christian speaks up once again.

"She made lunch for me, and no one's ever just done that. I've told people to do it for me. It was part of my submissives' weekend contracts, I pay Mrs. Jones, and I order Andrea to do it. But apart from my mother, grandmother, and sister, no one has ever just taken care of me like that." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And, she remembered my speech from graduation. Actual details. She didn't even know me then."

The alarm goes off and Christian stretches his arms and legs before standing up. I gather all of our discarded to-go boxes and napkins, shoving everything in one bag to take care of later. We head to the door together, Christian in quiet thought and me, in complete shock.

"Well, you know how to reach me if you need anything else. Otherwise, we'll see one another at the Coping Together event this weekend," I say, shaking Christian's hand.

"Yes, I'll definitely see you there. Thanks, Flynn."

He turns the knob on the door and strides through the archway, shoving his hands in his pockets. Before I shut the door, I hear him say a quick goodbye to Marlena, getting her name correct for the first time since she began working here two years ago.

Marlena turns around and meets my shocked expression, with one of her own. With Christian still in hearing range, she mouths, "Seriously?" I smile and shrug my shoulders before retreating into my office.

When I reach my desk, I plop down in my chair and take a moment to recount my working lunch. With everything Christian said and did, if I didn't know better, I would say that Christian Grey's falling hard for the beguiling Anastasia Rose Whatever. It might even be possible that he's already fallen.

*I was looking for something online that Flynn and Christian could eat for lunch when I came across a picture of this Pan-fried Cornmeal Crusted Catfish Sandwich from a restaurant called Matt's in the Market in Seattle. It looked amaze!