Chapter 13

I haven't heard from him since that last message of his—the breakfast invite—that I ignored a month ago. What does he want now?

I'VE SENT YOU AN EMAIL. PLEASE READ IT ASAP.

I guess Christian doesn't like typing on his phone. Growling, I drag myself out of my toasty bed to get my laptop. As soon as my inbox pops up, I open his mail.

My dear Ana, I was laboring under the impression that you and I struck a deal some six weeks ago. I assisted you with your legal problems with the proviso that you in turn would immediately terminate your employment with Irina Bordeaux. It has come to my attention that you remain in her employ and even completed an assignment for her this very evening. I trust that this information is false and that you are still abiding by our agreement.

Christian

Do I even answer him? After all, he never placed conditions on his help. He told me I wouldn't have to work for Irina but did he forbid it? I can't remember him saying so.

Anyway, what does he care? He ditched me. What I do is no concern of his and besides, Kent is the only one I'll accept assignments from, so no danger.

How did he find out? I'm ninety-nine percent certain he wasn't in attendance tonight. Maybe one of his friends saw me? But how would they know me from Adam? I mean, Christian never introduced me to anyone but his family and Carson McEvoy. None of those people were there tonight—at least I don't think they were.

I suppose it wouldn't be hard for someone like McEvoy to be present without my noticing him. I smile when the next thought flits through my brain: if Christian is upset I went to a benefit with Kent, just imagine his surprise when I'm away in Europe for a month with the man! Ha. Wish I could be a fly on the wall if and when he finds out about that.

But why does he care anyway? He rejected me and his altruistic reasons don't matter. Rejection is rejection. If he truly wanted me around, he would have found a way. I fall asleep with all these thoughts swirling round in my head so of course I have bad dreams. In the only one I remember upon waking, I'm being chased and yelled at and all I could see as I'm running down a dark tunnel are furious silver eyes trailing behind me. I wake up in a cold sweat at three in the morning. It might be time to hit the brandy again.

The next morning I learn exactly how Christian found out as Kate thrusts the Seattle Times under my nose. flipped to a column mentioning last night's fundraising benefit.

"What? Do you mean to tell me that out of all the photos that were taken last night, the only one published in the Times is the one of Kent and I?" I practically scream the question at Kate.

"Darling Ana," Kate replies in an exaggeratedly patient voice, "this is a fashion column and Mr. Gable is big news. The fact that you're wearing one of his original creations is why your photograph is here." She stabs the photo with her index finger to punctuate her explanation.

I drop my head into my hands. "That's how Christian found out then."

"Why? Did he contact you?"

"Yessss," I snap, elongating the word. I'm pissed off right about now. "He did his double hit of simultaneous text and email to ensure I'd hear about his displeasure."

"Oh, is he displeased? Well, isn't that just too bad. He doesn't get to have his cake and eat it too."

"He doesn't eat cake," I grumble. "Have you ever noticed his abs?"

"I'm not kidding, Ana. Who the hell does he think he is, dictating to you on what you can or cannot do? Your evenings with Kent are just what the doctor ordered. Mr. Grey can go twist in the wind."

"Whatever. You're right and it's none of his business. But do me a favor and don't mention to Elliot that I'm going to Milan with Kent? Please?"

"Fine, but can I at least tell him you're abroad? He might want to know why I'm living alone all of a sudden."

"That's fine. I've got a doctor's appointment today and I also have to deal with those job offers."

"What are you going to do?" Kate asks as she places a mug of hot coffee in front of me.

"Mmm, this smells so good." I take a sip. "I'm going to tell them I'll be away for the next three to four weeks and if either of them say they'll wait, I'll pick that one."

"What if they both will wait?"

I frown at the possibility. "Then I have to decide sooner rather than later."

"What if they both say they won't wait?"

I shrug, almost hoping for that outcome at this point. "Then I won't work for either, I suppose. I'm not giving up this chance to go to Europe, Kate. I've only been there that one summer in high school. Plus, it's a big payday for me—and Irina."

"Well, don't you go worrying about that dragon lady. Just focus on Ana Steele."

"Yeah, okay. But remember, Kate: no mention of Kent and Milan in the same sentence. Comprende?

Rolling her eyes, Kate says yes, as if she's the most long-suffering roommate of all time. "I'm going to shower. Give a shout out if you hear my phone ring. The steam from the shower makes my cell act wonky so I can't take it in with me."

"And God forbid you're incommunicado for twenty minutes."

"God forbid," she mimics and then grins, displaying her toothpaste ad smile. "I can be incommunicado for everyone except one VIP. He gets through instantly. Comprende?" She looks over her shoulder and adds, "Oh, and the P doesn't stand for person, if you get my drift." Winking, she retreats into the bathroom.

When I finally think about the remark, I gasp. What a dirty little girl that Kate is. I'm like a nun in comparison. Maybe I should start calling myself Sister Ana when in Kate's presence. The thought makes me giggle, picturing myself in a nun's habit and wimple, and Kate in a short dress with a big scarlet A on her chest.

Three hours later I'm lying in bed, alone in the apartment. At least one of us has a successful love life. Elliot swung by to pick up Kate and I went out to say hello. He was smiley and friendly but I felt as if there were an elephant in the room with us, all three of us studiously avoiding any mention of Christian. Finally I wished them a good night and retreated to my bedroom. As soon as I heard the door close, a worry occurred to me. I grabbed for my phone and punched in Kate's number. She answered on the first ring.

"If the condo's on fire, call the fire department. I'm too hungry to come back home. Anyway, firefighters are always hotties."

"Kate, I know I said you could tell Elliot I'm going to Europe but not with whom but do me a favor and don't mention anything until after I'm there. I don't want his overbearing brother to put any crimps in the works. Okay?"

"Promise. Scout's honor."

"Thanks, bella. Have fun tonight."

"Okay. Hey, why don't you call Jose and see if he wants to hang? It'll do you good to get out of the apartment.

"I'm tired," I lie, "and I just want to make up for some of my current sleep deficit. Good-night, Kate."

Since I'm wide awake, I use the time to pack up my toiletries and some of the clothes I know I'll need, like my jeans and underthings. I bring two pairs of yoga pants to sleep in, as well as a few t-shirts. At nine my email pings and it's from Kent, with an attachment of a detailed list of what to bring and what to avoid. By the time I hit my bed at midnight, I'm ready to leave for Milan.

…..

The plane is about to take off; it's second in the queue on the runway. I look over at Kent who is looking out the window. He glances over to me and smiles and I return a megawatt smile. I'm so excited to be going to Milan with him.

First-class is way nicer than coach, it doesn't feel at all like the same experience. I vow to myself that if it's ever possible, I'll only travel first-class. The attendant brings us cocktails before we even take off. The mimosa is so refreshing that I drink it quickly and now I feel a pleasant buzz in my head. Kent is reading a magazine so I decide to take a nap. I wake up as the plane hurtles at an ungodly speed down the runway.

…...

We've been in Milan less than two days when the call comes in from Kate.

"Um, Ana, promise me you won't kill me."

"Why?" I can hear the barely veiled anger and suspicion in my own voice as I ask the question.

"I was having dinner at the Greys' home last night. Christian was there—it was a small celebration because Zander came home for a couple of weeks. He's really cute, by the way. You know: the silent, sulky teen, brooding and cranky? Anyway, Grace asked for you. Actually she asked Christian where you were."

"What did he say?"

"That's just it. He didn't say anything, just looked massively uncomfortable—I guess because I was right there. Anyway, he looked at me and then everyone else did too. I tried to deflect their attention by just mentioning you were away, in Europe. Of course then they wanted to know why and for how long."

"Oh, Kate, what did you tell them?"

"All I said was that you were traveling on business and you'd be away for a week or two. That's it. But when I chanced to look at the handsome bastard—"

"Which one?"

"Elliot's handsome but he's not a bastard. If anything he's a scoundrel but not even that I'm thinking. Christian's a bastard."

"Okay, so…?"

"When I looked at him, his eyes were burning holes in my forehead they were so intense. After dinner, he approached me and asked for details. I told him I didn't know anything more, sorry. I will admit to being a bit snotty—I couldn't help it. Like, what business is it of his where you are and what you're doing? I don't understand anything of what went down, Ana. He's acting like a jealous boyfriend.

"Anyway, I've a feeling he's not going to leave it at that, Ana. You might be hearing from either him or Irina. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Kate. I was afraid Irina would pull the rug out from under me… but now that we're here, it's sort of a moot point. Anyway…"

"How is Milan?"

"Oh, as beautiful as when you last saw it, I'm sure. Kent had to hit the ground running. He's been busy since the moment we touched down and I've had to be with him most of the time to help out. Today I have a few hours on my own to do some shopping. I was just having an espresso when you called."

"Oh, I wish I were there with you… we could have so much fun."

"You could join me?"

"I could… but then I'd have to suffer withdrawal from Elliot. I don't think I can do that, Ana."

"Oh, boy, you've got it bad. Okay. I'm going to go now so I can spend some of these Euros I'm making. We'll talk soon."

After I disconnect, I wonder if I should be pissed off or not. The way I currently feel is a bit embarrassed that the Greys now know that Christian dumped me, but otherwise I don't much care if Christian has his nose out of joint. I mean, seriously, screw him. I put it out of my mind and focus on what I want to purchase from this phenomenal shoe store I found tucked into a small dead-end block I ferreted out of the maze that is Milan.

Kent calls me later to tell me I don't need to come to his Milan studio at all today so I'm free to do as I wish. I go for a walk to sightsee, have another coffee, and then head back to the hotel to take a hot shower and wait for Kent to have dinner.

Kent's been working ridiculous hours since we got here. The show opens day after tomorrow and he's a nervous wreck over all the details. One of his favorite models broke her leg so he had to find a replacement at the last minute. The new model had slightly different dimensions so clothes had to be altered quickly, and the lighting guy was having problems with Kent's specifications. By Thursday he had pulled it all together and I was sitting in the front row, as proud as any parent, waiting for the show to begin. Later tonight, there'd be a soiree to celebrate the opening of fashion week in Milan.

The clothes are gorgeous! I just wish Kate were here to enjoy it with me. Kent is an amazing designer. He dressed me today and has promised me a fantastic outfit for tonight's party. I see so many celebrities in the audience that I feel like Alice, having fallen into an alternate universe. Kent may be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Afterward, he introduces me to so many people my head spins. I speak very little Italian, even though I studied it in school for several years. I managed to have some limited conversations, and though it was implicit that I was acting as Kent's date, I met a couple of gorgeous Italian men who were very clearly demonstrating their interest in me. All told, I'd say it was a very successful day.

Kent chooses a pewter satin cocktail dress for me to wear to the party. It's strapless and extremely fitted to the point where I'm not sure I can eat a morsel or even the DNA of a morsel while wearing it. Matching high-heeled pumps, and a clutch purse complete the outfit. He gives me a chunky faux-diamond bracelet and a sterling cuff to wear. Nothing on the neck, he said, since he wanted my hair down. He even asked me if he could do my makeup, to which of course, I said yes.

When I look in the mirror, I'm astounded. Is that really Ana Steele?

My eyes are heavily rimmed in black kohl with a splash of silvery sparkles on the brows. Long lashes courtesy of mascara flutter over my eyes and my lips are outlined in deep red and the center is brushed with cherry gloss. He's darkened my brows a bit, too, which lends my face a harsher look—harsher but more noticeable for certain. I think I look good.

"Well?" I ask Kent when I'm all ready.

"Ana, you are sublime, a vision in gunmetal satin. What more can I say other than I'm certain to have the most beautiful woman in the whole place on my lucky arm. Don't forget to take the wrap or you'll get cold."

"Oh, right." I run back to my room to grab the silver metallic shawl he gave me. Kent rented a suite with two bedrooms that we're sharing. It's perfect, allowing us both privacy but neither of us is alone. He thinks of everything and if not for Jared, I'd definitely want to marry him. Who needs sex when you have everything else?

As soon as I think of sex, you-know-who pops into my mind. Today marks a month I have officially survived without him. The wrap I just hastily threw over my shoulders reminds me of those eerie eyes of his, eyes I miss gazing into, trying to figure out the puzzle that is Christian Grey.

"Ana, come on. We're already fashionably late."

"Punny. Okay, I'm ready."

The hotel doorman hails us a cab and the drive to the venue takes less than ten minutes. Though there's no red carpet, there are some photographers loitering about outside the wrought iron gates of the establishment hosting the party. Once inside, Kent grabs us two flutes of Prosecco and then promptly gets spirited off by some older woman with gnarly hands and a loud, gravelly voice.

"I'll be right back, Ana, sweet. Enjoy."

I look around at a sea of fine clothes and strange faces. Suddenly I feel very lonely and homesick even. I spot a wall of windows on the other side of the huge room and I gravitate toward them, hoping for a moment to collect my thoughts. When I reach the windows, I see there are two pairs of French doors leading to a huge terrace. Perfect. I go outside, my bubbly wine in hand.

It's relatively quiet out here, the music from inside muted by the glass. Though the air is chilly, I feel okay with my wrap on and the wine warming me on the inside. I have to figure out what I'm going to do when I return home. Both of my job offers are intact and I was too cowardly to turn either down. I know fully well it was stupid of me to string them both along but I did it anyway. God, it's a beautiful night and the twinkling—

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The voice is right behind me and there's no concern for politeness or circumspection. I whip around and find myself staring into two angry silver orbs. What?

"I think I'm drinking Prosecco and waiting for Kent. What do you think you're doing?"

"I think I'm about to spank a woman in full view of a ballroom of people dressed up in evening clothes."

"I dare you," I charge, my voice shaking with… what? Fear? Excitement? Probably both. I can't believe Christian Grey is standing in front of me.

"Ana, if you learn anything at all about me, then you should learn never to dare me. I cannot resist picking up a gauntlet once it's thrown down. Be careful for there's a bench right over there," he gestures with his chin, "and it's the perfect height for putting you over my knee. Do you understand?"

"What pray tell is your big problem? And what are you doing in Milan?"

"My big problem is that we had a deal. I upheld my side of it and you did not. I would like to know why you chose to break it?"

"I didn't know your help and assistance were conditional, Mr. Grey. I agreed I wouldn't work for Irina anymore but, from the first, I expressed interest in continuing with Kent. Since we—you and I—are no longer involved in any capacity, I saw no harm in dating Kent. I count him among my friends at this point. What's more, I fail to see why this concerns you in the least. Do you really think Kent might hurt me?"

The look on his face can only be described as frustrated fury. While he's struggling with his volatile emotions, I take the opportunity to look him over and, boy, is it worth the effort.

He's wearing a navy suit that's cut to perfection, showing off his broad shoulders, trim waist, and long legs. He's paired it with a silvery shirt that matches my dress quite well, being a lighter shade of pewter, with a very light silky pearl tie. His hair is brushed back off his face—I've never seen him wear it like that before, but it gives him a very continental flair. He looks utterly, heartstoppingly gorgeous.

"Ana, do you recall me telling you I don't share?" His voice is controlled but just barely so. I can sense unbridled emotion percolating under the surface.

"Share? Share what?"

"Don't be obtuse. You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't. If you mean share me, then you're not sharing. I'm all Kent's at this point. What are you talking about, Christian?"

"You're all Kent's? Really?"

"Yes, for the moment. I'm not involved in any romantic dalliance at all with anyone… though I've met a few Italian contenders lately." I smile but he's not on board with my playful banter. At all.

"Ana, I—" he stops abruptly and his hand slips around my waist, yanking me to him and he kisses me, thrusting his tongue in my mouth when I open it to complain. Somehow I forget to complain once I taste him and remember how it feels to be in his capable arms. I've missed him.

"I've missed you, Ana," he echoes my thoughts when we finally break. "Why didn't you return my messages?"

"Why bother? You made yourself perfectly clear the last time we met," I say and feel the tears already crouching in my throat, ready to push up and out at a moment's notice.

"When are you returning to the States?"

"Early next week."

"Can you come to my hotel room tonight?"

I shake my head. "No, I can't. I'm with Kent on this trip and I cannot leave him flat."

"If I ask him, will you?"

"No, Christian. It's not appropriate or fair."

As if I've summoned him, Kent appears just behind Christian's shoulder. "Well, well, what a coincidence, Mr. Grey. How nice to see you again."

Christian forces a stiff smile and nods his head. "Mr. Gable. Congratulations on a successful launch. I understand your line was well received."

"Yes, thank you. Are you in Milan for fashion week?"

"I'm in town for Ms. Steele, but she claims she's yours for the duration of the trip."

"Oh? You're here in Milan to try to steal my beautiful companion?"

Christian just looks at him as Kent continues to toy with him. I'm surprised at Kent; he's usually more discreet than this.

"Tell you what, Mr. Grey. Since you came so far, if my beautiful companion agrees, I have no problem with her visiting with you after we leave this party. Fair enough?"

Again without a word—very unusual for the smooth Mr. Grey—he nods and then looks pointedly at me. "Appropriately enough, I'm staying at the Gray. I hope to see you there tonight, Ms. Steele, so we might continue our conversation."

With that, he bowed out after saying good-night to Kent.

"I'm sorry, Kent. I had no idea—"

"Don't be sorry you're bringing that roué to heel, Ana. It's about time someone did. He's been breaking hearts for a long time with his disdain—it's about time he had his own roughed up a bit."

I chuckle bitterly. "I hardly think his heart is involved. He's just jealous."

"Ah, but jealousy is born of love and love alone, my dear. Come, let's dance and enjoy our evening. I'll drop you off at his hotel on our way home for your… conversation."

I look at him gratefully but I'm not sure at all if I should take that detour tonight.