A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews and feedback. It's always very much appreciated.

Sorry for the delay. Life got in the way.

I do not own the characters. They belong to E.L. James. This is just for fun.

The High Road Less Traveled

The hideous sound of an alarm clock wakes us. Christian reaches over and hits the button to stop that awful buzzing, the noise is as bad as fingernails on a chalkboard as far as I'm concerned.

He begins to roll out of our bed and start his day. How someone could so easily wake up every morning is a mystery to me. I turn over and fling my arm over his chest holding him in place.

"No, don't go" I sleepily whine.

He turns to me and smiles.

"For as much as I'd love to lie in bed with you all day, we each have a busy day ahead, baby"

"We can call in sick and cuddle instead" I move in close to him, nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck, wrapping my leg around his.

"Baby, I have to fly out to Portland for meetings all day."

"Tell them you're very ill and ordered to bed rest." I stick my index finger under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, playfully gliding my finger around his waist.

"Something tells me if we stay in bed, there won't be much rest"

"No, probably not" I smile and lightly kiss his neck.

"Did you forget that you have a speech to make today?"

Crap. I forgot about the speech for the Women in Business Luncheon this afternoon. He's right, I have to go.

"Yes, I forgot that was today"

"I'm sorry, I can't make the luncheon, baby. I couldn't reschedule my meetings today"

"That's fine. It's not a big deal. It's more like a few words, not so much a speech. Go to your meetings. How about a raincheck on Saturday? Bed-in day?"

"Nothing would please me more, Mrs. Grey" He kisses the tip of my nose, gets out of bed and heads for the shower.

I stare at his bare back as he walks into the ensuite. I'd love to drag him back to bed, straddle him and run my fingernails down his back, he looks so damn good. Really anyway I look at him I want him, front, back, side, fully clothed and definitely naked. I'm tempted to jump in the shower with him, but we'll never get out of here if I do that and we both have too much on our plates today.

Control yourself Ana.

~~~xxx~~~

The Women in Business Luncheon is in the Spanish Ballroom at the Fairmont Olympic. The room is set up so beautifully, it looks like a wedding. I'm sitting at the front of the room, at the dais with two co-chairs of the event, two local politicians and three other business women here to make short speeches on varying topics. . There's a podium to the side of the dais, where four women will speak.

I'm sitting between Jill Foster of Morgan Stanley and Virginia Small of Microsoft. We've know each other for years and they are great women. Smart, Confident and bawdy as hell. I love them. We're served our first course, a spinach and bacon salad in a sweet mustard vinaigrette.

"So Ana, you get laid last night?" Jill quizzes me. Jill is a very straight forward person. She doesn't mince words and she says exactly what she's thinking, when she's thinking it. She has no shame or filters for that matter.

I look down at my plate and blush.

"Damn girl. Does that husband of yours ever leave you alone?" Virginia jokes. Virginia runs a close second to Jill in the 'no filter' category

"What can I say ladies? It's a tough job, but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do" I laugh.

"If you ever want a night off…I wouldn't mind taking care of your husband, Ana…as a favor to you, of course. You can take Herb. In fact, just take Herb. I don't even need a swap. He's yours." Poor Herb. Jill loves him to death, but she likes to joke about screwing other men all the time, even in front of him. I can't imagine Christian being as 'understanding 'as Herb is to Jill's remarks. I know she doesn't mean it.

"You're too good to me Jill" I roll my eyes.

Our main entrée is served. Grilled king wild Salmon with a lemon risotto. Delicious.

After our meal, the first speaker is up, Mary Harrison from Nordstrom. Her topic is Networking and branding. Her speech is wonderful, as always. Mary is brilliant and if retail didn't work out, she could have easily been a politician with her gift of public speaking.

Next up is my friend Jill Foster. Jill is the Chief Administrative Officer for one of Morgan Stanley's banking divisions. She's as sharp as a knife. Her topic is planning and goal setting. For as bawdy and relaxed as Jill is in her personal life, she is the complete opposite professionally. Calm, cool and collected. Grace under pressure. When she speaks, you listen. Her speech is fantastic. She has such insight.

Virginia Small from Microsoft is next. Her topic is Social Media Success. She is so knowledgeable and speaks with such passion; you can't help but get caught up in her enthusiasm.

I'm so honored to be among these fabulously bright successful women and proud to call them my friends.

It's my turn. I'm introduced by Laura Stern, one of the co-chairs for today's luncheon. I make my way to the podium. After the usual polite applause dies down, I begin my speech.

"We've all heard the saying, take the high road. In leadership, as in our personal lives, others will behave callously toward you. If you are mistreated, don't regress into a defensive manner or attack with rage. When a leader takes the high road, she tucks away her ego, rising above the occasion to do what is right, morally and ethically. We take the high road to set a positive example to those we lead, without losing respect or reputation. The high road influences leadership by complementing the positive effects it has on others.

The ability to motivate others is elevated when leaders take the high road in principled situations. If we are consistent in doing the right thing, the moral thing, it motivates others to take our lead. For example, if a business makes an error and we are honest about it and own up to it, despite the effects it may have on us personally, whether it be our reputation as a leader, or the reputation of the business as a whole, we motivate those we lead to maintain a higher standard.

When we administer ourselves according to these higher standards, we are less likely to stoop to their lower level, the low road, so to speak when others pounce on us. Upon doing all that is humanly possible, you can allow the discord of your skeptics roll off your back.

Feeling 'wronged' is one of the most difficult emotions to conquer. It feels personal. Fighting begins over differences in principles and opinions. In these instances, I encourage you to always take the high road. In life and especially in business, moving ahead and achieving positive results will always be more important than being right.

As women in business, our journey is tougher. They say it's a man's world. We know better. Stop thinking of other women as your enemies and start thinking of them as your closest allies. We must stick together. Not undermine each other to claw our way up the ladder. Support each other. Show the business world how exceptional you are by not caving into the stereotypical reactionary woman, take the high road. Keep in control.

I'd like to close with a quote by Scott Hamilton. The high road is always respected. Honesty and integrity are always rewarded.

Thank you"

As the audience applauds, I politely smile and thank them. I begin to turn to walk back to my seat on the dais when I feel a chill, an ominous feeling of dread. Is it Christian, the kids? What could have me so off balance, so suddenly? My senses have never let me down before.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. Good God no. It can't be. Three rows back from the front of the podium. I can't believe my eyes, but there she is in front of me, flesh and blood.

Evil. Bitch. Troll.

Holy crap, it can't possibly be. It's been twenty years since I last laid eyes on that...monster. I thought she left Washington for good years ago. Why is she back and why is she here of all places?

I manage to work my way back to my seat, trying my best not to appear ruffled by this intruder. I won't give her the satisfaction.

Our dessert and coffee is served. I have a tea and slice of carrot cake. I eat it, but I don't taste a thing. I smile and continue chatting with the women on the dais.

"Hey Ana, are you alright? You seem a little off suddenly?" Jill asks.

"Yes Jill, thanks. I was just remembering something I had to do when I get back to work" I lie.

My cell buzzes and I see a text from Christian.

Hope your speech went well. Thinking about our Bed-In on Saturday. I have ideas. Love you. Laters.

Talk about perfect timing. Just when I feel a tilt in my world, Christian comes in and brings it back into balance.

Speech went well. I'm always open to new ideas. Love you too. See you later. XX

The luncheon is winding down. Most of the women are leaving the room, going on with their work day. There's a few that stay behind to network. Smart ladies. A few come over to me to say some kind words about my speech. It's always nice to get positive feedback.

It's time for me to get out of here and get back to Grey Publishing. I've been lucky that I haven't come across the Bitch Troll. I guess she left with whoever invited her. Good riddance.

As I'm walking out the room, I see Elena heading straight toward me. Fuck, this is all I need. The closer she gets, the more I feel the butterflies in my stomach, how can this woman still unnerve me after all these years. Well, my speech was about taking the high road. That's what I'm going to do. I'm not that insecure twenty one year old girl anymore. I'm a mother, wife and successful business woman with forty two years of life experience in my pocket. I'm confident and an infinitely better person than she is.

I begrudgingly admit to myself that she still looks pretty good…for a woman her age. She's obviously been nipped and tucked a few times, as her face is pulled tightly, she has the Cruella De Ville Botox Brow and I can swear I don't remember her lips looking quite so…full. Collagen much, Elena? Her hair is still perfect, blonde, not a strand out of place. Her claws, err, her nails are long and manicured, painted red and she's wearing all black. Does this woman own anything that isn't black? What is the deal with that? I suppose she wears the one color that describes her soul.

High Road, Ana, High Road.

"Anastasia, you look well. I suppose all of your husband's money has aided your sense of style."

Snide Bitch! She's spitting her venom right out of the starting gate. Deep . Cleansing. Breath. Take the high road Ana. Take the high road.

"Elena" I nod. You're looking… older.

"Your speech was …interesting"

"I'm glad you liked it. They say you're never too old to learn something new. I highly recommend it…to everyone"

Oh, did I just zing her back. Maybe a little. My bad.

She tips her head back and laughs…a controlled bitchy fake laugh, the kind that makes your skin crawl.

"You were always quite the spirited one, weren't you dear?"

As she speaks, I momentarily imagine devil horns actually growing out of her head. I quickly shake my mind of the visual and ignore her question.

"What brings you back to Seattle? Last I heard you were living with your, what was it…your fifth husband, living in San Diego, San Antonio, somewhere else"

High road Ana. Hone it in. But really, who the hell would marry this monster of a woman is beyond me.

"Fourth…for now. Yes, I'm in La Jolla Beach. Just here visiting friends. My old friend Joanna DeMarco invited me to this luncheon as her guest. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you were a speaker?"

She has friends? There must be a sadist convention in town.

"Yes, the world is certainly a small place" And getting smaller by the minute.

I notice she is looking at my wedding ring. I'm counting down the seconds until she says something snide because she just can't help her bitchy self.

"Still wearing your collar, I see" her eyebrow raise with her self-important smile. I know she's goading me to lose my cool.

I hold up my hand to her face. And plaster the fakest, sweetest smile I could muster up and feign innocence.

"Do you mean my wedding band? Now, now Elena, Surely you're joking… you know that's not a collar. Christian and I both wear our wedding rings, each and every day as a celebration of our twenty year marriage. There's no ownership, we are partners" I smirk.

High road, High road. High road. My mantra.

"Twenty years. That would make Christian's son, Theodore, nineteen. I remember Christian at that age, ah, yes. I remember him well. I've seen photos of young Theodore in the society pages. He really is a carbon copy of his father; perhaps he has other similarities to his father's…tastes." Her lips curl into an evil villainous smile.

That's it…fuck the high road. I'm taking this bitch down. I can see that she's no longer just a heartless Troll; she's a cruel angry monster that sucks the life from you and tries to annihilate your soul.

"You may not speak of my son, you filthy whore. Why are you really here Elena? Back to your old tricks? Perusing the local high school, searching out another young boy to molest? "

"Oh Anastasia, still so naïve and sweet. Neither are character traits I respect or like."

"True Elena. I do get called sweet quite often. What I do not get called is whore, stupid or doormat. I'd rather you dislike me for my character than like me for my lack of it."

"Oh dear, dear. So full of hate and bitterness, it's the first reaction of the weak."

"I am not hateful and certainly not bitter, truth is Elena… Dear… I just don't like you" I smugly smile at her.

"You can stand in front of me with your self-righteous smile and disapproving words all you want. You've always been jealous of my relationship with Christian. That I had him, fulfilled his needs, no matter how far you've buried them with your sanctimonious influence, but remember, I taught him everything he knows. After all these years, your jealousy of me continues to know no bounds. After all these years, it still eats you that I fucked him first and he loved it."

I glare at her incredulously. Is she out of her fucking mind?

"Jealous? Of you? Is that what you think I am? Jealous of what? You're nothing more than a sick twisted child molester. A pathetic dried up old Domme. You try can mask your ugliness all want with your obvious plastic surgeries and botox injections, but your true essence shines through that platinum blonde veneer. You are nothing to my husband but a loathsome memory of abuse when he was a vulnerable young boy. You repulse me. You are nothing to me, you are shit." My words dripping with contempt.

Her mouth gapes open. That's right Bitch Troll, Anastasia Steele Grey has grown up and her balls are bigger than yours. I walk in as close as I can to her, my lips right up to her ear and I whisper in a low growl.

"And Elena… dear… you may have fucked him first, but I fucked him better."

With that I turn and leave her standing alone.

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