"Are you alright?" he shouts through the bathroom door. Pressing his ear against it, he hears only the sound of water splashing. He could've sworn he heard her heave. Deciding to give her some more time he goes to the kitchen and brews some coffee. Glancing at the time, he realizes that he'll be late if he'll take a shower. Fuck it, there are worse things than going to work with her smeared all over his body.
By the time he's dressed she steps out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her hair dripping wet. Damn. The sight of her makes his dick stand up in salute.
"You're dressed." She says seemingly surprised, standing on her tiptoes to reach to give him a kiss.
"Well, yes, I have to leave in five." He pecks her on the lips.
"Oh."
"Yeah, I've got this major project and we are supposed to meet up with the team today." He fumbles with his shirt buttons, the cast making it impossible to bend his hand. She buttons up his shirt, and he closes his eyes enjoying the feather light touches of her hands against his skin.
"Is it the Keystreet case?" She asks.
"Yes! How do you know about it?"
She frowns, and he gets it immediately.
"Callahan told you?"
"Yes."
"Did he tell you about me?"
"Maybe…" She doesn't meet his eyes, keeping her focus on his shirt buttons.
Not wanting to tread any longer into the awkward direction their discussion was headed, he tilts up her chin until her eyes meet his. Pressing her towel wrapped body tightly against his, he kisses her, deeper than he should, if he hopes to make it to work on time, and without a boner.
"When will I see you again? Do you want to sneak out for lunch? We could skip the lunch…" He nudges her with his semi.
She smiles wistfully and shakes her head. "That's probably not a good idea."
Her rejection stings, even though he knows she's right; going for lunch together, would effectively ruin the afternoon for both.
"But... you could come over to my place after work?" She says looking up at him.
"Yes. I'd love that." He kisses her one more time. "I've got to go, you'll be ok here alone?"
"I'll be fine, I'm leaving when I get dressed anyway, I'll have to stop by my place and get changed... Good thing I have a meeting downtown at ten, so I still have some time."
The day feels like it takes forever. For the millionth time he glances at the digital clock on his desk, the damn numbers seem to be standing still. If it wasn't for the fact that the clock showed the exact same time as his laptop and phone he would've thought the batteries had died. The meetings come and go, with new faces to learn, names to remember. The information surge feels like a damn tsunami sweeping him off his feet. There's no way in hell he'll remember half of the stuff just thrown at him, as in his head, he's playing a recap of last night.
By lunchtime, he goes to the cafeteria and buys a turkey and cheese sub while trying dodge the group of ladies trying to get his attention by the coffee machine. Just nod and fucking smile. He pretends not to hear as Stacy or Tracy - he still doesn't know which, in her tacky figure hugging bright pink sweater, is calling out his name.
It's three o'clock and he still hasn't heard anything from her. They didn't talk protocol but he assumed she'd notify him once she got to the office. He's tempted to take a stroll to the third floor, just to get a glimpse of her. But as he can't make up any believable excuse for going down there, he decides against it. It's probably for the best as merely the thought of her, has his dick twitching. Maybe he should call her? Too desperate? Picking up his phone he decides on a SMS instead.
**How's your day? Still on for tonight?**
He battles himself not to write that he misses her, it's definitely too soon for that mushy mumbo jumbo. Flirting in texts is not something he's good at anyway.
There's a knock on the door, and so the afternoon continues engrossed in work. The new team is efficient, and a pleasure to work with. Although, not having Elliot around, to brighten the atmosphere, sucks. So when the brainstorming meeting is over, Christian picks up the phone and calls him.
"Elliot, it's me Chris."
"Hey man, how's Seattle treatin' ya?"
Christian pauses, just a second too long, weighing his options, trying to decide if he should mention Ana or not.
"It's good."
"Hey hey hey. You paused before you answered... better than good then, right? Let me guess, you finally broke the paradise funk and got laid?!"
"Well… something like that." Christian grins like a fool in his empty office.
"Hallelujah! Thank the fucking lord! Christian Grey got laid. Man, that was quick by the way, you've been there two nights. Are the Seattle ladies that fucking easy? I can't wait to come there. "
"Pun intended I assume?" Christian leans back in his chair.
"Of course. Now tell me."
"It's not the Seattle ladies that are easy… but a certain someone from LA."
"No fucking way!"
"I'm telling you, she snuck into my office yesterday."
"What?! And you swam up her pants at the office? You dog!" Elliot cheers.
"She came over last night."
"I bet she did..." Christian can actually hear Elliot grinning over the phone.
"She was still there when I left for work." Christian turns in his chair, facing the window, his cheeks hurting from the smile pulling on them.
"Are you serious?"
"Uh huh."
Elliot whistles. "That's… wow. What is she doing Seattle?" His asks voice now more serious.
"She got transferred here… and she actually works at Tech too, but it's a long story and I don't even think I know all the details yet… We were supposed to talk last night, but somehow we got sidetracked a few times." He bites his lip not to say more, as the memory of her arching body beneath his as he thrust into her, pops into his mind. Besides, the whole clusterfuck that is Ana's involvement with James Callahan… is definitely a subject that needs to be discussed over a bottle of Jack or a keg of beer.
"I bet." Elliot chuckles.
"I'll see her tonight."
"She's coming over again?"
"No, I'm going over to her place."
"Huh. Suit yourself man. Just remember, dipping your dick into company ink… not the smartest of ideas." He pauses before continuing. "Well, I've got to scram, it's Gail's birthday so she made brownies."
"Aah. Damn, I'm missing that. The woman knows to cook."
"Yeah, yeah, she'll going to make us all candidates for the biggest loser if she keeps this up. But I've got to go, I still want my dibs on the piece with the most topping."
"You better hurry or you'll have to wrestle that guy from HR."
"I can beat him with my hands tied behind my back." Elliot chuckles. "I have to ask one thing though. Was paradise pussy worth waiting for all this time? Was she as good as you remembered?"
"Better." Christian hangs up with a huge smile on his lips and a bulge in his pants as he enjoys the memory of her tight hot heat squeezing every last drop out of him.
With a melancholic emptiness filling his chest Christian stares at the phone. Who knew he'd come to miss that clown? Huh.
He sighs and frowns as he realizes that the phone still shows no signs of a message from her. That's weird.
He tries to call her, but to no avail. It goes straight to her voicemail. He checks his email and calendar, and decides he'll have time to go for a walk around the office, in the name of getting to know the place of course, not only to check on her.
By the elevator he presses the down button, trying his best to look casual and like he belonged going to the third floor.
The arriving elevator is jam-packed. Oh, for fucks sake, he thinks, as he turns on his heels and opts for the stairs.
The third floor isn't that much different from the fifth, well besides the absence of the cafeteria. He walks past the desks with people busy at work. He's not quite sure where she's supposed to be sitting even. The further along the row of desks he walks, the more anxious he gets. By the time he has circled the whole floor without seeing her, he has a cold sweat rising on his forehead, and his throat is dry. His eyes gaze upon a neatly organized desk, where the screen is dark and it's obvious that no one has been there all day. Discreetly he slows down as he passes it, and it takes all his willpower not to groan as he sees the pile of cards on the desk. Anastasia Steele, Public Relations, Tech Inc.
Without missing a beat, he continues until he reaches the elevators, already fearing the crowd that might be waiting for him inside. There's no way he can make up a plausible excuse for his excursion, in case someone would happen to ask. The elevator arrives empty, and relieved he steps in.
Picking up his phone he tries calling her again, saying a quiet prayer to the powers above to make her answer. No luck, it goes to voicemail. Damn it. He hits his hand to the wall and stands there hanging his head, gripping his phone, trying to reign in the emotions boiling inside him. The frustration transforms to anger, and with each step he takes towards his office it expands and blinds him from thinking straight. She's ignoring me? After last night she just takes off and vanishes? He flops down into his chair and pushes his hand through his hair. The anger turns to fear. What if she went back to Callahan? He scoffs at the absurdity of the thought. Finally he types another message to her.
** Call me **
His office phone rings immediately, making him jump. He picks up the phone, staring in disbelief at the name spelled on the screen.
"Hello." He answers, his voice trembling.
"Callahan here, how are you doing Christian?"
He swallows.
"All's good, sir."
"Did you meet the team? Get the plans on their way?" Callahan asks.
"Yes, everything is moving along smoothly," he answers.
"Good, good." Callahan says, then in a muffled voice he hears him say – yes dear, I'll bring you the lilac cardigan. "I'll send you a few documents as soon as possible, but the ol' ball and chain is having me running me around like a damn servant."
Christian manages a fake chuckle, as his blood pressure suddenly spikes, swooshing inside his ears, as he imagines Callahan with Ana. He does not have a doubt in his mind that Callahan had fed her a load of bull – just to get her in bed.
"There are a few more meetings on this case on Thursday. I expect you to have something ready to present the customer by then."
"Will you be here?" Christian grits through his teeth, the thought now revolting.
"No, you'll have to manage it on your own. I'll not be coming to Seattle in a while. The Mrs. needs me here for now."
"Oh."
"You'll do fine Christian, I'm sure you're the man for the job. I'll call you later in the week."
Without further words, Callahan ends the call.
Christian dives into work, deciding that Ana will call her, when she can. And if she doesn't then he'll just assume that their agreement to meet after work will still be on. If she's not there… Well that just can't be an option.
At five, he decides to call it a day. The way to the car goes by in a blur, some semi familiar faces talk to him, but he is too consumed with the sinking feeling that something is off, to notice.
As he throws his bag onto the passenger seat his phone starts ringing.
"Ana…" He breathes into the phone. "I was so worried."
"Chris…" Her voice quivers and then she sobs. "Please, can you come get me?"
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the Swedish Medical Center." Another sob pauses her. "First Hill Campus"
"I'll find it. I'll be there."
AN: Thank you all for reading and reviewing!
H xx