Lifting his jaw off the floor, Christian watches her walk out with the man; his tanned arm wrapped around her shoulders and her arm around his waist. Christian turns his focus back to his coffee, but for a moment he just stares at it, as if he's trying to figure out what one is supposed to do with a cup. She's taken? She took me, and she's taken? The thoughts bounce around his head, but he is numb and confused, too shocked to be angry or sad. He never asked her, he realizes and finally lifts the cup to his lips.
Surviving the following flight, he admits to himself that she, free or not, had helped him. When panic started to raise its ugly head, he just thought about the flight with her, and the way she magically made the turbulence disappear by sucking his dick. The only downside was, that the memory gave him a hard-on, which he had to hide from the over-active kid and his mother sitting in the same row.
Finally getting off the plane, he follows the crowd through the airport. Glancing towards the wall of glass, he realizes, that the weather fits his mood perfectly. The heavy grey clouds hang from the skies, looking as if they'll plummet crushing the whole city beneath them any second.
The first raindrops hit his face as he steps outside the terminal in Portland. Just fucking great, he mutters and hunches running to the parking lot, digging for the keys in his pocket on the way. Pushing the key into the lock and turning it twice before it clicks, he opens the door, throws his duffle bag onto the passenger seat and sits behind the wheel pulling the door shut behind him.
Key into the ignition, and then turn. "Oh, come on, you piece of crap, start!" The engine lags before finally starting with a roar. Letting go of the key, he releases a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. Getting the jumper cables to start the car, would've been a bitch in this weather, he thinks as he watches the streams of water dance down the windshield.
Driving through the parking lot, and out to the road leading to the I-205, he sinks down in his seat, not wanting to be seen in the red Honda with way too many miles on it. I'd give my left testicle to have my Audi back, he thinks as he turns the windshield wipers up a notch.
Half an hour later, he parks in front of the garage by the two story house with the chipped paint. He grabs his bag and runs to the porch where the lights are on. Well no surprises there, she's bound to be up waiting for me, he thinks as he searches for his keys.
Christian enters without knocking, and the smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls meets him at the door. He tries to sneak upstairs, but her voice makes him stop in his tracks.
"Christian? Is that you?"
He sighs before answering, "Yes, mother."
Knowing that she'll either ambush him in the foyer, or risk her bad knee and back, climbing up the stairs, if he doesn't go and talk to her, he decides to get this over and done with.
He drops his bag on the third step and opens the zipper getting out the painted souvenir plate he got at one of the crowded shops at the airport on the Caymans. His eyes land on the Paradise embroidered towel and he makes a mental note to go do the laundry, first thing after saying hi to his mother.
She sits by the Formica table, her folded crossword magazine in front of her. Her glasses are propped on the top of her head, drawing Christian's attention to her hair, that has become a lot greyer since her health problems trapped her in the house. Her blue eyes have lost the bright spark they once had, but besides that, she's keeping it together quite nicely for her age.
"Hi mom." He walks to her, bends down and pecks her on the cheeks. "Something smells good."
"I made cinnamon rolls, to celebrate your return."
"I was away only four days, mom." He says, but doesn't push it, knowing her days feel like an eternity when she's all alone.
"Well, it felt longer. Let me look at you... You look different."
He fights to keep his poker face. She can't see, that I have had sex, can she? He asks himself.
"Yeah well, a few days in the sun does wonders."
"It certainly does. You look good, relaxed." She pauses and folds her arms with a frown. "Too skinny though."
He rolls his eyes.
"Well, these will take care of that." He says reaching for a cinnamon roll and taking a bite, humming appreciatively.
"So?" Ella leans back in her chair. "How was your trip?"
"The conference was ok, but the room I got had water damage." He pours himself coffee, as she goes on and on, about how a friend of someone or another, once had the exact same predicament.
"But I got a private bungalow at the beach as a replacement."
Her jaw drops, but then she smiles widely. "Well isn't that lovely!"
"Yeah, it wasn't too bad. It had a great view." He smirks and thinks of all the women in bikinis, or less, on the beach. There were some seriously well-formed women over there, although all of them seemed mediocre compared to her though.
After the latest updates on the neighbors' lives and the usual bitching about his sister never calling, Christian gives Ella her present and excuses himself.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he goes upstairs, throws his bag on the queen sized bed, and collects the clothes that need to be cleaned. Holding the black bikini, that he forgot to give back to Anastasia, in his hands, he sits on the edge of the bed and flops down onto his back. Pulling out his Lumia and playing with it for a moment, he finds the picture he took of her. He zooms in and looks at her smile, the content expression on her face as she pulls her bag, while walking through the airport. Christian can't help but feeling utterly baffled. What was it all about? Was it a holiday romance? A one night stand and a permanent membership to the mile high club? But who the hell was that guy at the airport? Was she playing me? Using me? Should I feel offended? He snorts and chuckles thinking that she can use him like that any day. He can't remember when his balls would've felt so light.
The business card where she scribbled her name falls from his pocket as he gets undressed to hit the showers before going to bed. He picks it up, and traces the marks of the ballpoint pen. Anastasia. He stares at the writing and the small heart drawn next to her name, for a moment that feels like eternity. A nervous knot tightens in his stomach as he picks up his phone and types in the numbers. His finger hovers over the call button, but he can't make himself press it. What would he say to her? Hey thanks for the BJ and the quickie, mind telling me who the fuck you were kissing just minutes after our goodbye? No that'll do no good, we didn't promise each other anything, so just leave it, he tells himself. Take it for what it was… Amazing sex with the perfect woman, no strings attached. Staring at the phone, he can't quite make himself erase the number either, so he saves it under the name Paradise. Avoiding writing her name is just a precautionary thing as he doesn't want Ella finding out about her. Well, not before he figures out what the hell it all was about anyway.
Back at work, he tries desperately to avoid the inquiries about his trip. It was ok, nothing special, he finds himself answering them. The women by the coffee station Ooh and Aah admiring his tan, some outright flirt – but he ignores them, even with more determination than usual. Pouring a large cup of coffee, he excuses himself and saunters back to hide in his cubicle. He shoves some papers around, before his curiosity gets the better of him, and he Googles Anastasia Steele. There's not much, a Facebook profile, and some blog mentioning her at a fundraiser, the usual. He sips his coffee and wonders what he was expecting? Not wanting to raise any suspicions, he avoids clicking the links and opening the image search – his screen being in plain sight from at least four desks.
Elliot, one of the first guys who talked to him when he started working at Tech Inc. comes over to his desk.
"My man! How was the Paradise?" he asks while sitting on the corner of Christian's desk.
"It was… Interesting." Christian tries to hide the smile creeping up on his lips.
"Interesting you say?" Elliot smirks. "I bet."
"Yeah, I have to say, the view from my room was pretty nice."
"Towards to pool?"
"Nope, the beach." Christian lifts his brows and nods, holding his hands open on the sides of his chest, as if catching imaginary breasts.
"Topless?"
"What do you think?"
Elliot whistles and laughs, punching Christian's shoulder.
"Well? Did you get any? And more importantly, did you get me anything?"
Christian leans down to get a plastic bag from his bottom drawer, and throws it to Elliot.
"A gentleman never kisses and tells. You should know that." Christian smirks.
"You did! You son of a bitch, was she any good?"
"A-fucking-mazing." Christian says with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Elliot opens the bag and holds its contents with a chuckle.
"I should've guessed." He grabs the t-shirt and pulls it on.
"You look like an idiot, you know that?" Christian looks at the shirt with the big bold text My friend went to Paradise and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.
"I don't care - you got laid, and I got this." Elliot straightens the shirt over his stomach. "I know it's been a while since bitcherella, so I have to ask this. You did remember to wrap the sausage, right? Or did you bring more souvenirs than a t-shirt with you?"
Fuck! Christian blanches but manages to hide it.
"Of course." He lies, his hands suddenly sticky and his throat dry.
"Good thing. You don't want your dick falling off now that you finally started using it again, right?"
Christian fakes a chuckle but Elliot doesn't notice, he's already up, showing off his t-shirt to the group loitering by the elevators.
On his lunch break Christian sneaks away and calls his doctor, arranging an appointment to be tested. He closes his eyes and listens to the lecture on how a grown man should know better. Christian doesn't argue. He knows he was irresponsible.
Days seem to be merging into one another, and the weeks pass. Every time he goes to the shower, he inspects himself for any changes, cursing his stupid drunken decision to fuck a stranger without a condom. The call he dreaded and waited for finally comes, and a weight falls off his chest. He was lucky, he's clean.
The number saved on his phone still tempts him, but he can't make himself call her. It's been weeks, and he should've called her, or she should've called him, but neither one has. He tries to forget her, but it no use, he can't stop thinking about her. His nights are consumed with her, in his dreams they have the most amazing sex, usually on the beach or on the plane. A few mornings he woke up covered in jiz; too many mornings, more than he'd like to admit, he headed straight to the shower and, like a desperate teenager, jerked off while imagining her on his cock.
In about a month he gets a call. His heart picks up its pace as he sees who is calling. It's again a call he has been waiting for, it's the key to a brighter future he hopes.
"Christian Grey?" The female voice on the other end asks.
"Yes, that's me."
"We received your application for the position in Seattle."
"Yes?"
"We were very impressed and would like to meet you in person. Can you make it to Seattle... Say, the day after tomorrow?"
Christian jumps and does a soundless fist pump.
"Yes, of course, what time do you need me there?"
"Mr. Callahan will also be attending the meeting, and according to his calendar he should be free at eleven."
"Eleven it is then." Christian gets butterflies in the pit of his stomach, Callahan is after all the new CEO of Tech Inc.
"Yes!" He shouts and jumps, doing a little dance around his desk, after ending the call.
"What are you yelling about?" Elliot jogs over. "Did you call her? Did she call you?"
"I wish! But this is better! Seattle called, they want yours truly to be there the day after tomorrow."
"Way to go Chris! That's awesome!" Elliot high-fives and bumps shoulders with Christian.
The celebratory feeling dissipates almost as soon as it started as Christian thinks about the practical details of his trip. Fuck, the Honda will never make it. And a decent rental car would be too expensive.
"Hey, El... Could I borrow your car?"
"Something wrong with old rusty?" Elliot asks with a grin
"Just the usual, she's old and rusty. I don't think the old lass has it in her to get to Seattle and back anymore."
"True, you'd be standing with your thumb up on the side of the interstate... And hitchhiking is a bitch, all those horny housewives looking for fresh meat." Elliot winks.
"So can I borrow it?"
"Anytime, you know that." Elliot looks at him and gets serious.
"So when are you going to change your old rusty?"
"She's mom's not mine." Christian corrects him. "But I'll change, as soon as I can. I should be debt free by next month."
"That's good Chris, you deserve better than a Honda from the last millennium anyway..."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Hey what do you say we go out tonight? To celebrate? Besides, they're showing the Champions League finals at Phil's, and I've got seats with our names, right by the tap. My treat."
"Sure, why not." The decision is made very easy, by the fact that Phil's is usually packed with drunk, horny, barely legal European chicks on soccer nights. It's about time I got her out of my system already, Christian thinks.
Waking up the following morning, with the mother of all hangovers, Christian curses himself for accepting Elliot's invitation. He decides on keeping his eyes shut as opening them would be pure agony. Turning around in his bed, his hand lands on something... No. Not something. Someone. What the...? He thinks, realizing that even thinking hurts. Tentatively, he opens his eyes to see who the hell he is sleeping with.
As his sight gets focused in the dim room, he realizes that it's Elliot. He flops down onto his pillow, relieved for not having bedded another stranger. The night at the Paradise was the first and the last time for that.
"Fuuuuuck." Elliot groans, and judging by the sound of it, he's in just as much agony as Christian.
"Shut the fuck up Elliot. Going out was your idea." Christian mutters sitting up and leaning his head against his hands.
"What the hell am I doing here?" Elliot asks as he realizes where he is.
"Fuck if I know. I'm just relieved you've got clothes on..." Christian mutters as he stands up and slouches his way to the bathroom, every step feeling like being hit in the head with a jackhammer.
While the water pours over him, he tries to remember what they did last night. A lot of drinking, that's what. Getting shit from Elliot, as he didn't take up on the offer from that blonde with the huge tits, trying to push her tongue down his throat. More beer. A whole keg judging by the beating of his head.
Once showered Christian goes downstairs and loads the coffeemaker, adding a few extra spoonful of freshly ground coffee beans to make it strong enough to beat his headache.
As he sits by the table waiting for the coffee to brew he checks his phone. One missed call. Probably mom he guesses, but looks at the call log anyway. He stares at his phone and blinks, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and then opening them again, making sure that he is seeing what he thinks he's seeing. The caller: Paradise.
He swallows, as his stomach suddenly turns on him. He inhales deeply through his nose and blows through his mouth to calm himself, and basically to avoid throwing up.
"Dude, you look like shit." Elliot saunters into the kitchen and heads to the cupboard with the mugs, looking surprisingly fresh.
"It's not just the hangover, El." Christian says and shows him his phone. Elliot's eyes widen with realization.
"Paradise, as in…" Elliot waits for Christian to finish the sentence.
"Her." The word a mere breathe from his lips.
"Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Call her back."
Christian closes his eyes and inhales, counts to ten and exhales.
"OK. I'm doing this. I can't fucking believe I'm doing this." He mutters as he presses the call button.
He lifts the phone to his ear and he bottom of his world drops. "The number you have dialed cannot be reached…." Christian groans as he places his phone on the table.
"No luck?"
Christian shakes his head. "The number can't be reached." The paradise at his fingertips but he can't reach it.
"Sorry, man..." Elliot claps him on the shoulder.
"Morning boys." Ella walks in, wearing her pink bathrobe, but stops as she sees their state. "Long night?"
"Morning Mrs. G." Elliot gets up and gives her the chair he was sitting in.
Christian just mutters a "Morning," staring into his mug.
"What's wrong with him?" Ella asks, looking at Elliot. "Lady trouble?"
Christian coughs as he sips his coffee down the wrong tube. Fucking hell, Elliot will tell her, he's sure of it. He gets up and scrambles to the downstairs bathroom, coughing so hard he's afraid that he'll puke any second.
"Sorry, Mrs. G." Elliot mimes his mouth being locked and the key being thrown away.
"But it's a woman, isn't it?" Ella asks. "Ever since he went to that conference... He's been different. It's like the fog, brought on by Mia leaving him, has finally lifted."
Elliot nods. "I promised him I wouldn't tell, but I'll give you this much. It's certainly not a bloke."
Next morning, bright and early, Christian sits behind the wheel of the light grey Bimmer, on his way towards Seattle. Trailing his hands over the black leather interior, he enjoys the feeling of having a real car to drive. Thank you, Elliot.
Arriving ahead of time he finds a parking lot a few blocks away from Tech HQ. He walks to the office enjoying the buzz of the city, the important looking businesspeople crowding the sidewalks, the occasional taxis stopping and dropping off people.
Entering the lobby, he fights the urge to whistle. The HQ is modern and light, welcoming but at the same time highly professional.
Christian straightens his tie and collects his nerves before walking to the desk to sign in.
"Christian Grey from Tech Inc. Portland, I have a meeting with Mr. Callahan at eleven."
The receptionist gives him a well-trained smile while she taps on her computer.
"Welcome Mr. Grey. Here's your pass, you will need to keep it on you during your stay at the office." The receptionist slides over the plastic tag with his name and picture. "The meeting will be on the third floor. Room 305. Go ahead, the lifts are over there." The receptionist points to the back wall.
"Thank you." Christian nods politely before heading towards the lifts.
The third floor is just as modern as the lobby, but with more evidence of people actually working there. There are the occasional piles of paper on the desks, the faint chatter of people taking a break. I would definitely like it here, Christian thinks as he walks past a semi clattered desk with an open laptop with a tropical beach screensaver.
He stands by the open door of room 305. His hands are sweaty and his mouth feels dry. Alright, this is it, he collects all his courage and knocks before stepping inside.
The few people standing there talking with each other, become quiet as he enters.
He instantly feels like an intruder, obviously interrupting something. A few long seconds pass before the middle aged woman, standing with the younger women, finally connects with her professional side. "Mr. Grey? I'm Susanna Waters, we spoke on the phone."
"Hi, it's nice to meet you. I was afraid I got the wrong room. I was expecting Mr. Callahan."
A frown passes her face.
"Yes well, unfortunately, he's running a bit late, there was an incident with the new marketing manager. Mr. Callahan should be joining us any minute, although he told us to go ahead and start the meeting without him. He was really impressed with your portfolio, so this is basically, already a done deal. If you are up for the challenge, of course."
"I'm up for it! When can I start?" Christian says, not caring a rat's ass that he sounds too eager to get the job. He smiles widely, already planning which car to get with his fatter paycheck.
Half way through the agenda, there's a knock on the door. The door opens before anyone has the chance to reply and in steps a tanned man, with a grey suit and a black shirt.
"I apologize for being late… Mr. Grey I presume? I'm James Callahan, it's a pleasure to meet you."
So this is the CEO of Tech, he's surprisingly youthful for his age, Christian thinks as he shakes Mr. Callahan's hand.
"We've been going through our expectations and Mr. Grey's - Christian's job description." Mrs. Waters speaks up and gets an approving nod from Mr. Callahan.
"Well, let's get down to the nitty gritty then." The CEO takes over the meeting.
Later on, walking through the corridors of Tech Inc. Seattle, Christian can't help smiling. This is the chance he has been waiting for. His chance to redeem himself, to prove to the world that he hasn't lost his touch. The business world has been looking down on him, ever since his partner took off, after emptying the bank account of their company, leaving Christian broke and up to his neck in debts. Not to mention lonely, as his so called girlfriend chose to run with the money too.
He passes a Starbucks on his way and decides to treat himself to a Grande Latte, just to celebrate.
He picks a seat by the window, and looks at the building of Tech Inc. just across the street. Soon I'll be one of those people, he thinks to himself, as he watches a group of people obviously returning to the office from their lunch break. A woman catches his eye, her black skirt hugging her every curve as she walks down the street in her heels, her hair hanging halfway down her back, the curls bouncing with each step.
Oh, yes. I'll definitely enjoy working here, Christian grins as he sips his coffee.
He watches her navigate through the crowd, until she stops by the curb and waves a taxi. She looks around, before she disappears into the car. But that second her face was turned towards Christian, he felt the air being sucked from his lungs, the resemblance is uncanny. Get a grip Grey, you are obviously losing it, he chastises himself.
That night he dreams of her again, but now they're not on the beach but in Seattle, on that very spot he saw her doppelganger. He catches up with her, bends her over and lifts her skirt, just to find her wet and ready. He fucks her, hard and desperate until coming with such intensity it wakes him up. "Fuck! Now I've got to change the sheets again," he mutters, turns to his side and falls back asleep.
AN: Thank you all for reading and reviewing!
Have a wonderful week!
H xx