Chapter 25

Ana PoV

"Ana, the paper's here," Kate bellowed from downstairs. I extracted myself from Christian's embrace, donned my slippers and bathrobe, and headed down to see what the fuss was all about.

Reynolds, Kate, Elliot, Ethan, and Mia were all crowded around the kitchen table, each trying to read the article at the same time.

"I'll read it," I stated, snatching from the table-top.

The article read as follows.

A classic new gem in the big city

Mammaw's Diner - Seattle, WA

Reservations: Reservations suggested, opening weekend was very busy, likely that it will continue to be so for the foreseeable future.

Price: very affordable

Charge Cards: V, MC, AE, DC

Hours: 7 days a week, 6am to 10pm.

Parking: Large lot adjacent to restaurant.

Cuisine: Standard American fare with a few flares.

The Review:

One of Seattle's brand new restaurants, Mammaw's Diner is the domain of chef and entrepreneur Anastasia Steele and recent graduate of The Georges Auguste Escoffier school of culinary arts, Mia Grey. Financially backed by CEO of Grey Enterprise Holdings, Christian Grey, and built by both Steele Designs and Grey Construction, it is apparent that this restaurant is a manifestation of the joining of these two high-profile families.

Steele's and Grey's traditional American comfort-cuisine creations are magical, drawing the maximum of flavor from the very freshest of ingredients. I learned that they source locally from a farm outside Seattle.

Mammaw's refined cuisine is a gem in a worthy setting. Mammaw's Diner's décor is an eclectic mix of traditional 1950s diner and a more urban setting. Diners sink into comfortable booths and at elegantly appointed tables adorned with everything from a Juke box to a bouquet of daisies in a crystal vase. Shaded table lamps provide soft lighting, and background music is a mix of 1950s classics to modern hits. Service is impeccable. The waiters and the hosts all move in a well- orchestrated dance.

Steele and Grey have created a fantastic menu that brings one back to his or her childhood while still remaining sublime and adding a modern twist to each meal. I noted from an adjacent table, that a child ordered macaroni and cheese, only it was cleverly titled "sketti n' cheese," in the menu. The meal consists of hotdogs with spaghetti noodles stabbed through the meaty pieces, creating an octopus of sorts. For an adult, this would be silly and abhorrent, but to a child, especially this child, it was the best meal ever.

The adult menu consists of hearty American favorites such as beef stew, meatloaf, cheeseburgers, and a few pasta dishes. I sampled the meatloaf. It came with a side of skin on smashed potatoes and a medley of vegetables. Each item on the plate was cooked to perfection and seasoned well. Each bite exploded in my mouth with flavor, and I'm only sorry I had just the one plate.

Overall Mammaw's Diner is running fast to the top of the chain in Seattle. I look forward to see what other culinary projects the Steele and Grey families will concoct in the future.

"I'd say that's a hell of a review," I heard Christian's voice mutter from the other side of the wall. He rounded the corner and flashed me his million dollar smile. "Great job, baby." He wrapped his arms around me from behind and squeezed me tight. "Same to you, little sis." Mia beamed at him and leaned into Ethan, who wrapped her similarly to Christian.

"Are there more?" Kate asked.

I paged through the Entertainment section and found two more reviews. "Here someone else read the next one." My heart was pounding in excitement and anticipation.

Christian took the proffered paper and read aloud.

"Another great review! And that was that professor of culinary arts guy from Stanford, right?" Elliot asked. I glanced at the author of the review and confirmed his suspicions.

The third review read much the same as the first two, each critic praising us highly for the décor, the menu and the service. I was very pleased with it all, but these were professional critics. They were paid to write these reviews. I was much more curious to see what the general populace had to say. "What about on Yelp or Google? Or even Facebook? I know a lot of people 'checked in' to the restaurant. Good thinking on establishing the Facebook page, by the way, Ethan."

'Thanks, Ana," he replied, flashing me his grin. "As of this morning, Mammaw's has 192 likes, 60 people have tweeted about it, and 40 have left comments on our page on Facebook." He paged through his phone, skimming all of the comments. "I'm pleased to announce that not a single one had a single bad thing to say. There is one where the costumer states their burger was undercooked. And rather than throwing the existing burger back on the grill, Mammaw's provided a whole new burger, with new side dishes and comped the entrée on the bill. 'That's how to properly handle customer complaints,' he said. 'I'll definitely be coming back to Mammaw's. When the burger came back out, it was without a doubt the best I've ever had. And you can't beat the price either.'"

Kate said similar things regarding the tweets she read from twitter. I hadn't succumbed to either social networking site, so I had to rely on the others to fill me in on those venues. "I think Mammaw's is a huge success!" Mia exclaims. "I knew it would be!"

"We still need to get through the first year. If every service is as great as last night's then we can rest assured that we've hit the nail on the head with this place. Speaking of which, we're about to open for breakfast service. I'd better get over there." I moved to run back upstairs to get ready, but Kate stopped me in the stairwell.

"What about Steele Designs?" Kate asked. "You're still the CEO; you're needed there."

"Anita knows everything," I answer. "And you and Ethan don't need me there, and you know it. I'll come in if anything catastrophic happens, but Kate, this restaurant is where my heart is. This is what I want to do with my life."

"I can lend a hand with that business side, too," Christian offered as he came up behind me. "I know a thing or two about running a company."

"Maybe we really should merge Steele Designs and Grey Construction," I suggest. Kate looks at me as if I've grown a third eye. "You mentioned it the night of the Coping Together event," I add. "Remember? You were so excited about hooking up with Elliot, you said we could merge the two companies. Were you just spewing words or did you mean it?"

"I meant it, but I never thought in a million years that you'd go for it."

"That was before all three of us Steeles fell in love with all three Greys. It's fate, sis. Plus after the launch of Mammaw's, I think the public knows that the two families are very close. It would make sense for the two companies to merge together."

"I'll get my PR people on it," Christian states. I look at him strangely. "Elliot runs Grey Construction, but I own it," he explains. "He makes all the decisions and everything, but ultimately, I sign the deals and write the paychecks."

I pondered the merger while I showered. Would the reveal of our business partnership with Mammaw's be enough to merit a merger of Steele Designs with Grey Enterprise Holdings? I wanted to keep Steele Designs' identity. Not be lumped in with GEH and all the subsidiaries it held. Although it wasn't public information that GEH owned Grey Construction. The public knew the two CEOs were brothers, but that was as far as it went.

Once I was dressed and downstairs, Mia and I hopped in my car and raced off to Mammaw's. We made it just in time for the managers to unlock the doors and let in the awaiting breakfast patrons. "Welcome to Mammaw's," I greeted the first party. I recognized them from the night before. This was one instance in which having eidetic memory would be a great asset.

"You dined with us last night!" I exclaimed. "Would you like the same table or a different view?"

"With all the hundreds of people that came through here last night, you remember us?" the wife asked, surprised.

"Of course, I never forget a face," I replied, giving them a smile. "If I recall, Christian Grey and I posed for a picture with your family when you dined on the pistachio cups for dessert, right?"

"Wow," they all chorused in unison.

"Come on," I urged. "I'll show you to your seats."

I led the family of four to their requested table and handed out the menus. "Jeannie will be your server. I hope you enjoy breakfast as much as you enjoyed dinner!"

I sat three more parties before returning to the kitchen to offer up my services there. Everything was running like a well-oiled machine. The servers were bustling in and out of the kitchen quickly and efficiently, all seeming to be in great moods, the cooks were executing Mammaw's recipes to perfection, the bus boys were quick to clear tables, the hosts were quick to fill those tables, and the meals were coming out within a sufficient amount of time, plated beautifully.

"Señora Steele?" one of the cooks addressed me.

"Por favor, me llama Ana. Aún soy senorita," I replied, winking at him. (Please, call me Ana, and I'm still a Miss).

"Bueno, este receta no tiene el nombre del niño. Es un orden de los panqueques alfabéticos." (This ticket doesn't have the kid's name on it. It's an order for the alphabet pancakes.)

"Ah, ¿cuál mesa?" I asked.

"Veintitrés," he replied. I marched out the door, went to the table and explained the situation to the family.

"Who here ordered the alphabet pancakes?" I asked.

"I did," a little girl answered, raising her hand like a school pupil. She couldn't have been a day over six.

"Wonderful, you're gonna love them. I'm just here to make sure we got your name right so it comes out perfectly. Can you spell it for me?"

The girl went red in the face, indicating she didn't know how to spell. "Or how about this, would you like the name of your favorite movie character or cartoon instead?" She lifted her head and nodded enthusiastically. "Perfect, and who is your favorite?"

"Wapunzel!" she exclaimed.

"Coming right up!" I answered. The girl's mother stopped me by putting her hand on my forearm. I had to choke back my instinctual reaction. It wouldn't do good to slap the poor woman.

"The waitress forgot to ask for her name," she explained in a whisper. "You did a great job covering for that. Thank you. Little Ana will be thrilled."

"Ana? That's my name. Well, short for Anastasia," I replied.

"That's her name, too," the mother said, smiling at me.

"Your name is Anastasia, too?" I stated, giving the little girl a huge grin. "We have the same name! Do you know where that name comes from?" I asked. She shook her head. I knelt down next to her to tell the story. "Many, many years ago, there was a very famous and very pretty princess named Anastasia in a country called Russia. The story goes that when she was little, her family had to flee from their house because an evil sorcerer named Rasputin was trying to kill them.

"Everyone but the little princess and the grandmother was killed." I realized that my story was getting a bit morbid for a six-year-old, but I decided to continue. "Then, when little Anastasia got all grown up, she found her grandmother, and together they went back home and were happy forever."

"Did Anastasia find a prince to marry?" little Ana asked.

"Not a prince, but just a regular boy. A boy who loved her more than anything, and didn't care that she was a princess. He loved her for who she was. If there's ever a boy that likes you just because you're pretty or if you have a lot of nice things, kick him to the curb. You want someone who loves you for you. Got it, Ana?"

"Got it, Ana!" she agreed. I went back to the kitchen and luckily, Rocky, the server from that section was in there collecting plates. I told the cook, Sergio, the name the little girl wanted and he stopped what he was doing to make the cakes, as their order was almost complete.

"Rocky, table twenty-three had an order for alphabet pancakes, right?" I asked.

"Yes ma'am," she replied.

"And did you collect the little girl's name when you put in the order?" I asked.

"Oh shoot! I totally forgot! I'm so sorry! I'll go get the name."

"No it's okay; I've taken care of it. My question is, is there some way we can make it easier to remember to do that?"

"Well, in the POS system, it doesn't prompt you to enter the name. You have to enter it manually as a special instruction. Maybe if the system had a pop-up that asked for the name? As for remembering at the table, that was just a one-time mistake. I assure you."

"Great. Thanks for your input, Rocky. I'll see about changing the POS system to help out more."

She smiled at me, grabbed her plates and headed out to one of her tables. Well, for the first snag in the system, it wasn't too bad. I wasn't so optimistic, though, to believe that all issues would be that easy to fix.

Christian PoV

My Ana was quite the little entrepreneur. She took to restaurant ownership like a rockstar at a sold out concert. She'd put together Steele Designs so well that it functioned perfectly without her. I stopped by just to be sure and sitting outside her office was a very strange man. He was in his mid to late forties. He eyed me curiously, and then recognition dawned on his face.

"Anita?" I asked, the woman behind the desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey. I'm sure you're aware that Miss Steele isn't in today." My body was blocking her view of the man in the waiting area, she gave me a "help me" expression, which told me she'd tried to get rid of this guy, but he remained.

"I'm Christian Grey," I said, greeting the man.

"Pierre Bhutan," he replied. His accent was thickly French, which left me even more curious as to who he was and what he wanted. "I'm waiting for Miss Anastasia Steele."

"Well, as Anita likely told you, she's not in today, and I know she won't be. She asked me to stop by and get her messages if any. Shall I pass on a message from you?"

"Is her mother's name Rebecca Louis?" the man asked. "Her biological mother, that is?" I kept my face impassive; I didn't want to give away my shock at his knowledge of Ana's past. "It's very imperative that I speak with her. I have many, many questions to ask her.

"They were airing a story about the women behind the new restaurant, pointing out that both women had been adopted. With Anastasia, they described that she was rescued from a crack house of sorts where she'd been badly beaten and neglected. Then they showed a picture of her biological mother, before and after her drug abuse. I recognized the before picture, and the name."

"How did you know Rebecca?"

"I was visiting the states on vacation with my family. I met this beautiful young woman and fell for her instantly. We dated for the duration of my vacation, and then when the time came, I had to go home, and despite my pleas, she wouldn't come with me. She wanted to finish high school in the states and go to university. I gave her my contact information and begged her to keep in touch.

"She did for a few weeks, and then suddenly the contact stopped. I couldn't reach her at the place she lived. I didn't even know she was a foster child, not that it mattered, of course. After a while I gave up looking for her. It was obvious to me that she wanted nothing to do with me.

"I never forgot her of course; she was a beautiful young woman. She deserved to have the best of anything. It saddened me greatly to learn she succumbed to drugs and alcohol. I was about to turn off the news program when I noted the ages of Rebecca's children. Mr. Grey, there's a very strong possibility that Anastasia is my daughter."