Just Breathe, Chapter 20 – living together, learning about one another and lost loves
Wednesday, August 10
From Ana
To Christian
RE: A is for Absolutely Not
Therapist three reminds me of my mother. However, she provided me with a good vent for today's journal entry. I cannot believe I gave up my lunch hour to meet her. Don't go food stalker on me. I'm eating the veggie wrap and fruit salad Mrs. Jones assembled for me this morning.
Love
Ana Steele
Copy Editor in need of therapy
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: B is buffalo-grilled shrimp
Instead of going out to dinner; I asked Mrs. Jones to cook. She said she can make buffalo-grilled shrimp with blue cheese dip, sweet potato fries, a crispy seven-vegetable summer salad and garlic knot rolls for dinner tonight.
Christian Grey
Loving Boyfriend and Hot CEO
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: C is for Christian Grey, Hot CEO
I think you being the Hot CEO was the problem with therapist number two. She was more interested in you than me. What entertainment coordinates with buffalo-grilled shrimp for date night?
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: D is for dating, dining, dancing and drinking
How about white wine and a game of strip questions while I share an eclectic playlist with you?
Christian Grey
Loving Boyfriend and Hot CEO
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: E is for Eager
I can't wait…I'm wearing six pieces of clothes if you count stockings and shoes separately.
Love
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: F is for Five
I started the day with seven, but have lost the suit jacket and tie. I'm wearing five, so you either kick off the shoes or leave the stockings on – your choice.
Love
Christian Grey
Hot CEO and Lustful Boyfriend
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: G is for Good Idea
I'll leave the stockings on…
Love
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: H is for Hot
You – not the buffalo shrimp.
Love
Christian Grey
Hot CEO and Lustful Boyfriend
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: I is for Innuendos
Quit emailing me…your email innuendos are wrecking my concentration and I have work to do.
Love
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: J is for Justified
I think it's only fair I email sexual innuendos. I'm about to combust thinking about those stockings – and excuse me – I think you started this. ;)
Love
Christian Grey
Hot CEO and Lustful Boyfriend
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: K is for Kink Wink
Did you just kink wink at me?
Love
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: L is for Lost
What is a kink wink? And why don't I know about it?
Christian Grey
Hot CEO and Lustful Boyfriend
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: M is for Meaning!
Go look it up in the urban dictionary.
Love
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: N is for naughty
You're making my hand twitch.
Christian Grey
Hot CEO and Lustful Boyfriend
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: O is for OMG!
Or…ocular roll
Love
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: P is for Pink
You're making my hand twitch, again.
Christian Grey
Hot CEO and Lustful Boyfriend
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: Q is for Quickie
If you don't behave, we won't make it out of the elevator tonight. I don't believe in public displays…so will you please go back to work and quit emailing me?
Love
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: R is for Rose
My hand still twitches – you've upgraded from pink to rose.
Christian Grey
Hot CEO and Lustful Boyfriend
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: S is for STOP
I don't want to SHOUT a safe word while we're emailing. Please go back to work and quit emailing me.
Love
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: T is for Tease
Oh Miss Steele – I will return the favor on the way home. We'll find out if U are Very Wet.
Christian Grey
Hot CEO and Lustful Boyfriend
Grey Enterprises Holdings
From Ana
To Christian
RE: X)
Look it up in the urban dictionary. Y – because you can.
Turning off the cell phone now, ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ, to have work conversation with Hannah.
Love
Ana Steele
Girlfriend of Hot CEO and Copy Editor
Grey Publishing
From Christian
To Ana
RE: That's it!
I'm buying a damn car with a privacy screen.
Christian Grey
Hot CEO and Lustful Boyfriend
Grey Enterprises Holdings
XX
"Ladies first," Christian smirked as he set his iPod to play.
"Smooth jazz?" I asked, surprised by his choice of music.
"Jazz," he said, strolling over and caressing my cheek with his knuckles, "is all about tension and release. The name of this band is Weather Report. They were around from 1975-1984 until the bass player died." He dropped a quick kiss to my lips and backed away to his side of the bed.
"What does your family do for Labor Day?" I asked.
"Sailing, bbq, hanging out around the pool at the house. If mom is on call; sometimes the guys go fishing with Theo or a sail on Dad's boat." Christian said.
"Acceptable," I kicked off my heels.
"Back at you, what do you do for Labor Day?" He asked.
"Big fishing weekend with Ray if I got the weekend off from Clayton's Hardware." I replied. "Cook enough meals to get Ray through until I came home at Thanksgiving. Prep for classes for college."
He kicked off his shoes also. "Do you want to go fishing with Ray this year; or do you want to go sailing with me – alone, no families, no security? We can sail down the coast for two days and then turn around and sail back. Sailing, romantic candlelight dinners on deck, swimming, rock-paper-scissors sex?"
"I'll call Ray. If he's good with it; I'd like to go sailing with you." I take off my skirt. "I know you don't like celebrating your birthday, but are there holidays you don't celebrate?"
"I never had a reason to celebrate Valentine's Day before you," He shrugs and then drops trousers.
"Just so you know…I never celebrated Valentine's Day either. José calls it Single's Awareness Day. Don't worry; I don't expect hearts and flowers." I laughed.
"Do you have Thanksgiving traditions?" He didn't deny the hearts and flowers comment.
"Pumpkin pecan waffles for breakfasts all weekend. Roast the biggest turkey I can find. Cook enough food to feed twenty people…turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, whole green beans, Caesar salad. I make homemade whole wheat rolls which are as big as your fist and perfect for leftover turkey sandwiches. My homemade cranberry relish has raspberry jello, raspberries, cranberries, oranges, celery and pecans in it. I invite everyone I know so no one spends the holiday alone. I grind my own spices to make pumpkin pie spice blend and I bake half a dozen pumpkin pies. We eat leftovers all weekend. Thanks to working at Clayton's Hardware, I had a reason to miss psychotic Black Friday shopping with Kate." I took off my blouse. "What do you do for Thanksgiving?"
"In the past if I couldn't avoid it, I flew the family to Aspen on Wednesday night. I have caretakers for the house. She cooks a gourmet holiday meal when we are there. If there is snow, we'd go skiing or snowmobiling. Elliott and I usually go for a hike. We flew home on Sunday afternoon. I always took work with me, to keep me busy." He pulled off his socks. "What do you do for Christmas?"
"Enlist Kate to help me shop for something special for my mother. Last year I got her a cashmere twin set; Kate found it brand new at a consignment store. I buy Ray chambray shirts; he never has enough of them. It gives me a reason to go through his closet and get rid of the ones with frayed collars or cuffs. He'd wear them until they were so thin you could see through them. Ray buys me books. He goes to yard sales and the Montesano library book sale each year. He always buys classics. Carla sends a stuffed stocking each year for Christmas. Mine has girly things: jewelry, perfume or bubble bath and hair accessories. Ray gets hunting and fishing motif things in his stocking." I laughed. "One year my mother gave him hideous fish motif beer can holders. They were the first thing he donated to the annual VFW rummage sale. Ray and I put up the artificial tree on the Saturday after Thanksgiving with white lights and red garland. All of his ornaments are made out of wood. Ray has a train set he puts up under the tree." I slip off my bra and wait for Christian to refocus his attention somewhere other than my breasts before I ask my question. I doubt if he heard my long drawn out explanation; but it was part of the tease. "What do you do for Christmas?"
"I arrange for parents who work for me get time off at Christmas; with pay. I try to close the offices the 24th through the 2nd if possible. Taylor has the holidays off so he can spend time with his daughter Sophie. If I couldn't avoid it, I went to Aspen with the family. If they decided not to go to Aspen, but stay here, we had Christmas dinner at my parents' house in Bellevue. I usually bought spa days for mom, grandma and Mia at Esclava." He smiled ruefully. "I bought Dad good cigars and scotch, ditto with grandpa. Elliott usually got New Year's weekend in New York. He stays at my residence there and travels via my company plane." He stripped off his shirt. "What do you want for Christmas?"
"You have a place in New York?" My shocked and shaky voice asks.
"Yes, because I need to go to the East Coast sometimes to do business. The condo there has a great view of Central Park, I have a security guard whose wife is the caretaker and cook for the place. Now…what would you like for Christmas?"
"Peace on earth, good will to men," I said. "I don't need stuff Christian. What do you want for Christmas?"
"Don't take your panties off – I want to do it – and that's not the answer to your question." He paused and sat in a chair. He obviously thinks before he answers. "If I give you an honest answer; promise you won't withdraw and not talk to me." He gave me a pleading look.
"I promise," my voice is softer than I planned.
"I want you to redecorate the playroom with me." He said. "But I rather not wait until Christmas to do it. If we could have the renovation finished by Halloween, my holidays would be very merry." He tried to smile.
"I can, but there are issues." I walked over to him and put one knee on each side of him. I sat on his lap; reaching for his hands and drew them behind my back; holding mine.
"Do you know why I like your hands like this, or tied above your head?" He asked.
"So I won't touch you?" I asked.
'Yes, perhaps in the beginning; but when your hands are like this it draws your shoulders back and makes your breasts – accessible." He kisses the swells of my breasts. He holds my hands over my head. "When your hands are like this, it draws your breasts up tight and perky. I really like looking at your breasts and when your hands are restrained – you can't be shy and hide from me." He moves my hands behind my back again.
"Oh," I said softly. "Do you know what I really like?"
"Is it a kinky fuckery thing?" He asked, kissing the hollow of my throat.
"I like when you blindfold me." I moan while he's kissing my throat. "I also like when you tie my hands."
"I like the little noises you make when you are trying not to come." He said, nibbling on my ear.
"I like the little steel balls too," I said.
"Have I done anything you don't like?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.
"Other than nagging at me to eat and buying me things I don't need." I teased. "Or were you talking about…?"
"Sexually," he murmured.
"Not yet…but we have to talk about some of those things in your contract." I moan when his mouth nibbles from my throat down to the swells of my breasts.
"No we don't. I read your notes. I remember vividly: no whips, canes, belts, etc. I like the pictures you gave me. It gave me ideas about wicked things to do with you."
"I like that…with me…not to me." I don't say anything more because Christian holds my hands with one of his; fists his free hand in my hair and crushes me to his chest. He dominates my mouth with hot hungry kisses.
XXXXX
Early evening, Friday, August 12
Ana's POV
"Anastasia Steele?" A well-coifed lady rose to greet me. She was dressed in a navy pencil skirt with an aquamarine silk shirt. A funky mother of pearl charm on a gold bracelet graced her wrist. "I'm Alexandra Scott; everyone calls me Zann. John Flynn recommended me?"
"Yes," I shook her hand. "I'm sorry it took so long for us to finally schedule a meeting. Between your background check, my background check, signed NDAs; it's taken longer than I planned."
"There's the rub," Zann explained. "When I received the normal client background check I conduct; nothing popped at me. Then I had a consultation with John. He gave me your information and we talked about the stress you are currently under. He wanted me to be fully aware before he recommended me." She paused for a minute and indicated we should sit at the table. She poured tea for both of us. "Lady Earl Gray, my favorite. I heard you're a tea drinker from John." Reaching for a plate of citrus shortbread biscuits, she continued. "So, when John told me he had given you some homework, I asked and he explained." She took a sip of tea from lovely Limoges wedding band china cup and placed it back on the saucer. "We may have a conflict of interest."
"Oh," I'm more curious than ever.
"John assigned you to research your biological father, Frank Lambert, who died September 11, 1989 in a training exercise at Camp Pendleton?"
"Yes," I said cautiously.
She rose and went to the desk, removing a photo album and a high school yearbook. "Francis James Lambert, son of James and Lillianne Lambert was born June 26, 1967. His parents were killed in a car accident at Lake Tahoe in 1980. Frank went to live with his great-aunt Rosalind Lambert in Barstow, California. He took very good care of her and she adored him. He graduated from Central High School, May 1985. Before July 4th he joined the Marines. He did boot camp at San Diego Marine Corps Recruit Depot and was stationed at Camp Pendleton. His favorite meal was chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes and corn with peach cobbler for dessert. He was funny, energetic, loved muscle cars and slow dancing."
"You know all this information because?" I whispered. Holy cow – did she find this information somewhere on the Internet?
"He was my high school sweetheart," she shrugged. Zann opened the photo album and showed me pictures of a tall, dark-haired young man with brilliant blue eyes. He was not lean, like Christian and not buff like Sawyer or Taylor. She drew her chair up next to mine and proceeded to spend the next hour showing me the photo album and the high school year book. "I was a junior when he was a senior. We wrote and saw one another as regularly as possible. When I graduated from high school in 1986, I went to University of California San Diego. It was great because we were close enough to see one another sometimes. The fall of 1988 he got busy; I got busy; and the next time we saw one another was Thanksgiving, 1988 in Barstow. We fought. We broke up. He was distant; I could not bridge the gap between us. When he refused to come to a Christmas party; I called it quits and never contacted him again. He was my first real boyfriend. I won't lie to you and say it didn't hurt at the time."
She took off her bracelet and handed it to me. "Rosalind gave this to me when I graduated from high school. The pendant holds five dimes. When Rosalind was a single career woman, you could make phone calls for 10¢. That way if she was out and about and got stranded, she could call someone for help. The dimes in the pendant are Mercury Head Dimes – from 1941 to 1945. Rosalind told me if I ever needed help; I could come to her." Zann showed me how the dimes slid in and out of the back of the pendant. A spring-loaded platform recessed inside the pendant holding up to five dimes tightly in place. If needed, a dime slid out and the one underneath, or the platform, pressed against a half-circle barrier. She clasped the bracelet on my wrist. "I haven't worn it in years. I think you should have it, along with pictures I have of your father and Rosalind. I took the liberty of writing down everything I could remember about Frank. Dates, times, places, genealogy."
She stared off into space for a minute. "Rosalind told my parents his funeral would be a graveside service at Riverside National Cemetery, Riverside, California. It was a two-hour drive from college to Riverside and then checking in at the gate and getting directions. I made it with maybe ten minutes to spare. I never knew Frank was married or a father until I went to his funeral. You were born on a Saturday; Frank died on Sunday, the day after you were born. He was in route to a field training exercise when he died. Your mother was a pretty girl. I tried not to be jealous when I saw you in her arms. She sobbed like her world had come to an end….which I guess it had."
"The Honor Guard at the funeral helped Carla pack and move into Rosalind's home after the funeral. When I went home for the summer after my junior year, Carla had remarried and moved away. I never saw either one of you again. To the best of my knowledge, Rosalind never saw you again either. She died while I was doing my psych rotations at UC Davis. She is buried in Barstow, along with her parents, Frank's grandparents and Frank's parents. Rosalind wanted Frank buried in Barstow. Because Frank had been killed in the line of duty, Carla let the Marine Corps arrange and pay for his funeral."
Zann paused, "So, Anastasia Rose Lambert Steele…is it a conflict of interest your biological father's first girlfriend might be your therapist? Or, can you think of me as a friend you can talk to; one who will help you with your issues?"
"Did John tell you I have issues with my mother?" I asked.
"He did not specifically identify her as an issue. He said you had self-concept issues and issues stemming from your involvement with Christian Grey." Zann replied. "Just so you are comfortable…I do not have issues with your mother. I don't have issues with your biological father. I'm happily married to a wonderful man who I met in med school. We have children of our own, Zach is eighteen and Cole is fifteen. Additionally, I'm 'mom' to about a dozen of my sons' friends. I'm an avid tea drinker, watch British romances, attend auctions to buy antiques and love shabby chic décor. I decided a long time ago if I won the lottery, I'd establish a tea house in a corner of an antiques store and ensure there was a room full of vintage books. Perhaps when I retire, I will make that goal a reality."
"Well, out of my top ten issues; six of them came into my life when Christian did," I laugh and then I feel guilty. "Really, none of those six issues (moving in, GP, Jack, Elizabeth, Leila, Elena) are laughing matters." My inner bitch scolds me.
"Is he worth it?" Zann asked gently.
"I'm more worried he won't think I'm worth the counseling, the journaling and the questions." I said.
"So, yes to self-concept issues." Zann remarked, pouring more tea. "My mode of therapy works to integrate past experiences with your current life and your future goals. Sometimes it is easier when you are an adult to use your current skills and resources to understand events from your past you were not capable of dealing with as a teenager. Sometimes the coping skills you learned when you were a teenager hamper your growth as an adult. The tools I use help patients deal with anxiety, depression and/or traumatic mental blocks. I believe it will be the most effective therapy for you." Zann explained. "If you are worried about people discovering you are my patient; I have a solution. Anyone who inquires – you are having tea with your biological father's first girlfriend. Tell them I'm sharing stories and memories about your Lambert family. We can meet at tea time every other week for a while. I don't think you need weekly counseling. I don't believe you will need long-term therapy. You are not alone in this world. You had family who went before you. If you and Mr. Grey have a family, you will have family who come after you. Figuring out the things going on in your life is not a solitary pursuit."
"I feel very comfortable with you," I admit.
"So; print out your schedule and we'll set regular meeting dates. It's important to keep a normal schedule right now – work, exercise, medical appointments, seeing friends and having some fun too. How does the second and fourth Thursday of every month at four o'clock work for you?" Zann asked. "I'd like to look at your journal now. You can look at the Lambert pictures and items I printed for you."
I hand it over and scrutinize the bracelet as she reads. "Thank you for the bracelet and the pictures," I say when she finishes reading.
"In the future when you need help; remember the bracelet and me. You can call 24/7 and I will answer, just like Rosalind would have done." Zann replied. "Please continue to journal. I like the way you think about things. Is there anything in here you need to discuss today?"
XXXXX
Monday, August 15
********** Seattle Nooz**********
Sources saw Christian and Elliott Grey at the Mariners' afternoon game yesterday with Anastasia Steele and Katherine Kavanagh. The couples entered and departed Safeco Field hand-in-hand. They were casually dressed in jeans, Mariners' t-shirts and sunglasses despite the overcast day. They watched the Mariners beat the Red Sox 5-3. After the game, everyone returned to Escala. Elliott Grey and Katherine Kavanagh departed for their condo before ten o'clock. Rumor says the couples attended brunch at the Grey Estate in Bellevue before going to the game.
********** Seattle Nooz**********
Ana's POV
"Problems?" Christian asked.
"My mother is vexed with me right now. She feels I should be shopping for pretty lingerie for you instead of tracking down Frank's gravesite." I shrugged.
"While I have no objections to you shopping for pretty lingerie to entice me; I think you haven't explained the issue," Christian prompted her.
"Zann told me. Riverside National Cemetery, next to March Air Reserve Base, seventy miles east of LA. Frank was killed in a training exercise at Camp Pendleton, the day after I was born. He is buried at Riverside, section S, grave CR-3785. The receptionist explained he was cremated and his ashes were buried. There is a headstone. I have some information about him from Zann, from my birth certificate, from his obituary on the California Obits website and from some information about the accident in the Camp Pendleton Archives. I'm officially a member of and ."
"And?" Christian prompted her again.
"Ray told me he met my mother at Riverside National Cemetery. She was with an older woman who she introduced as Great-Aunt Rosalind. They were parked next to Ray in visitor parking. He said he held me while she got Rosalind settled and then she put me in the car seat. He said he noticed the ring on her finger; so he didn't pursue her. She was on her way back to Rosalind's home in Barstow which is where he was stationed at Fort Irwin Army base. They ran into one another a couple of times in Barstow where he learned she was a widow."
"Well, I haven't concentrated on Ella. I don't suppose…." He hinted.
"No," I shook my head. "That's your genealogical puzzle to solve. But you ought to start with your birth certificate and any adoption papers Carrick and Grace have. My birth certificate gave me a lot of places to start. I'm pretty sure I was named after Great-Aunt Rosalind Lambert. I'm just going to email questions about Frank to my mother and wait for her to respond. I don't want to call again. I don't know why she's being so… secretive… sensitive… something!"
"So what are you going to do next?" Christian asked.
"Ray offered to take me to Riverside next weekend. It's a 20-hour drive. I have to be there between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. on Saturday to get directions to the gravesite. He wants to visit a couple graves of friends while he's there. It's the reason he was at Riverside when he met Carla."
"I'll fly us there on the GEH jet. It takes about two and a half hours from Seattle to LA by the GEH jet. Get Ray in here on Friday night; we'll leave first thing Saturday morning; I'll arrange for a car in LA. Taylor can drive, Sawyer can navigate. We can stay overnight at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel; I'll get a suite for all of us. You're a foodie – we can go to WP24 by Wolfgang Puck." Christian suggested.
"I think Ray would prefer to stay in the room, watch ball games on TV and order room service." I commented.
"Not a problem; Taylor would like that also. They can keep one another company. Sawyer can shadow us during dinner." Christian explained.
I write down the logistics and go call Ray. Unlike my mother who has a busy social schedule; Ray welcomes my calls…even if he's watching a ball game.
XXXXX
Wednesday, August 17
Ana's POV
Date night is a dinner reservation at Canlis. I'm glad Christian told me about the reservations this morning. I research their website and succeed in dismaying myself. Canlis is not Bob's country club. Christian says I can wear the clothes I wore to work; but I want to surprise him. I beg Mia to go to Escala and get my halter dress from graduation with the grey suede stilletos I wore to Coping Together. I tell her to find the clutch I used for Coping Together. When I tell her Christian's taking me to Canlis for dinner, she shrieks like a fourteen-year-old girl. She seems to think Christian will propose. I keep telling her it's just date night. Now, thanks to Mia I have something to worry about other than 2500 different kinds of wine, five wine stewards…excuse me…sommeliers…and which fork to use.
At the end of the day, Mia and I disappear into the powder room. I gambled she was just like Kate and I was right. I don't know where she found the silver and lavender underwear, but it's perfect for the dress. The nude stockings feel sublime. In fifteen minutes Mia creates princess braids in my hair and in ten more minutes she's created a subdued natural look for my makeup. She brought a set of black pearl stud earrings with a single strand black pearl bracelet. They aren't really black…they have green and blue and purple highlights in the pearls. They are simple and stunning. I've never seen these before; but they go perfectly with the dress. She swears the jewelry she brought was in the jewelry armoire in the closet. Mia talks the whole time about Canlis; the stone walls, the warm woods, the picture windows that look out on Lake Union and the fireplace. She recommends a table by the windows, but if Christian is going to propose, a table by the fireplace will do also.
I'm dressed, primped and polished. I look like I belong on Christian Grey's arm. Sawyer's jaw drops when I exit the powder room. "Let's go," I say, draping a silk shawl over my bare shoulders.
"No," Sawyer shakes his head. "No. I'll call Taylor and tell him you're running late. I'll suggest they pick us up out front. You deserve to walk out the front door and have everyone see how well you clean up. Good job Mia!" He high-fives her.
"Hey, she's a natural; I didn't get to play Barbie as much as I would have liked." Mia protests.
"Hey…right here…still in the room…haven't tripped over my own two feet yet." I protest also.
Mia gives me a hug and departs via the basement parking so Taylor and Christian don't see her when they arrive.
XX
Sawyer grins when he escorts me out of the elevator to the lobby. "Taylor's grumbling about traffic at this hour. I told him to pipe down and let you surprise the boss." He sends frowns in the direction of the building security who seem to hold their breath as I walk by. Someone must have told them I'm a klutz. They act like I'm going to do a Bambi on ice across their highly-polished lobby floor.
Through the lobby doors I see Christian's SUV arrive. Taylor exits; looking very handsome in his standard men-in-black suit. Sawyer opens the door for me and I begin what seems like a long walk to the SUV. I don't think walking a red carpet could take as long as this. I ignore the paps, Sawyer follows me. Suddenly Christian scrambles out of the SUV and holds the door open for me. Taylor retreats to the driver's seat. Christian straightens his tie and swallows me alive with his eyes as I approach.
"Oh god," he murmurs as he kisses my cheek, ignoring the paps also. "You're wearing that dress."
"You like?" I flirt.
"Yes…I like. After you fell against me in the elevator on graduation day; I spent two weeks thinking about your alabaster shoulders in this dress." He takes my hand and helps me into the SUV. "No," he says; gemtly moving my hands away from the seat belt. "Let me." He carefully adjusts the seat belt and double checks it latched properly. He gives me a light kiss on the lips. "Mine," he whispers in my ear and his light grey eyes smolder charcoal grey as he closes the door.
When he's in the vehicle, he reaches for my hand and holds it gently, reverently. "Taylor," he says, not taking his eyes off me. "Play the second CD."
The car interior is filled with magical music of two women singing. Maybe it's Christian's gazes causing shivers to run down my spine; but I blame it on the music.
"What are we listening to?" I ask.
"It's the Flower Duet by Delibes, from the opera Lakmé. Do you like it?" He smiles.
"Christian, it's beautiful." I am amazed.
"Like you," his thumb lightly strokes my knuckles and the back of my hand. He begins his slow seduction tonight with the music and his glancing touches. We are quiet until the song ends.
"Can I hear it again?" I ask.
"Of course," Christian smiles. Taylor pushes a button and the music begins again. It's a gentle, slow, sweet assault on my aural senses.
"You like?" He asks. When I nod he explains. "I want to play Thomas Tallis for you one night."
"I've never heard of him," I admit.
"He's a sixteenth century British composer. Tudor, church choral music," Christian grins at me. "My description sounds very esoteric, I know, but his music is magic." He sighs. "Speaking of magic…we're here."
When we are seated at a table for two by the window, he holds my hand instead of looking at the menu. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I love that dress, I love you wore it for me tonight. I never did dates before, Anastasia and I'm so glad they are a first with you." He gets up and comes to my chair, looking into my eyes, he brushes the lightest kiss across my lips…making every woman and gay server in the room swoon. "Mine," he whispers in my ear, making me blush. He seats himself again and reaches for my hand. His thumb begins a slow lazy brush over the knuckles on my right hand.
When the server arrives, Christian orders for us, never taking his eyes off me. I blush more at his avid attention, which seems to make the butterflies in my tummy migrate south. I am determined not to squirm, or give Christian any physical tells (like pressing my thighs together, or crossing my legs) which would indicate I'm thinking of sex and not this romantic dinner date. The server, miffed to be ignored, simpers and bounces her booty as she walks away from the table. I press my lips together to prevent laughter from spilling out. Christian's eyes dance with laughter also. "This is why I prefer romantic dinners at home," he sighs. "There's no one around to bother or eye-fuck either of us."
The sommelier comes by and confers with Christian over the best wine to go with the oysters, signature salad and filet mignon for two. Christian orders a bottle of wine and only stops watching me when he tastes the wine. Christian asks for a third wine glass. He pours a glass of the wine for the sommelier and thanks him for his attention and recommendation. The sommelier is pleased and toasts us with his glass of wine, departing to let us enjoy our dinner in quiet and let him enjoy his glass of wine in private.
Christian teaches me how to eat oysters. They are delicious and when I thank him for introducing them to me, he gives me a panty-melting smile. When our food is served, I wait and let him take the first bite…which shows me which fork to use. I sip my wine carefully because it's so tasty I would be headless and legless guzzling this liquid ambrosia. The salad is delicious and it was fun to watch the server toss it at our table. I'm sure she is practiced at serving it, but she lets her attention wander to Christian's face. He has a slight smile when he sees my eyes narrow at her blatant eye-fuck.
He ignores our server when she asks how the salad is. "How is your salad Anastasia?" He addresses me.
"Delicious," I say, carefully dabbing my mouth with my napkin. "Thank you for ordering. The food and wine are delicious." Somehow my inner bitch rears her ugly scaly reptilian head, "Thank you for ordering for me, Christian…it makes me feel special."
Christian's eyes leave me for a brief moment and he addresses the server. "We're good, thank you," and raises his eyebrows until she leaves. He turns back to me when she stiffly walks away. "We aim to please, Miss Steele," he smiles and concentrates on his food. My mouth goes dry just looking at his mouth…remembering how it kisses, remembering how it plunders my mouth, remembering how it feels soft on my… "Snap out of it!" My inner goddess moans. I concentrate on my salad.
When the server brings our entree, she's more accommodating to me. She must have realized the size of her tip will depend on the attention she pays to me instead of Christian. The steak is delicious, as are the Yukon gold potatoes and the shitake mushrooms. Everything seems to melt in my mouth. The sommelier comes by to check on us; asking if Christian is ordering dessert and if he needs a dessert wine. Christian asks if I will want dessert and I say no. "I know what I want for dessert," my inner goddess swoons.
The sommelier thanks us for coming to Canlis tonight. He passes Christian a card with the information about the wine on it. "In case you'd like to order in the future for your wine cellar, sir." Christian asks if I enjoyed the wine and he and the sommelier have a good chuckle when I announce it is liquid ambrosia.
"Well then," Christian laughs, "I think we'd better get a case of it if you like it so much." He gives the sommelier an order for a case and Mrs. Jones phone number to call when it is available.
When we are finished, Christian gently puts my shawl around my shoulders, his knuckles brushing lightly against my skin. He helps me into the SUV and again, he buckles me in. "Mine," he whispers before he closes my door. The paps take pictures, but we don't care. We don't respond to their questions. We have a quiet ride home. He holds my hand and acts very much a gentleman when we arrive back at Escala. He holds me in the elevator, smelling my hair and whispering, "mine" in my ear.
The elevator doors open and Christian leads me into the great room. He takes my purse and shawl and puts them on the couch before he turns on music. The ethereal sound of Billie Holiday fills the room and he pulls me into his arms for a dance. When All of Me ends, he guides me into the bedroom. "Mine," he whispered again.
I lose all sense of time and space just feeling his body move against mine, his mouth on my neck and the heat of his body boiling my blood. My legs tremble violently, my breasts swell and my mind goes blank. Christian dominates my body and I love it as much as I love him.
XXXXX
Thursday, August 18
********** Seattle Nooz **********
Sources saw Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele at Canlis last night! We asked sources, but there was no proposal in the restaurant during dinner. The couple was seated next to the window looking out at Lake Union. The sommelier corrected the rumors: champagne was NOT ordered. Despite the reports Christian Grey only had eyes for Anastasia Steele; no one heard or observed a proposal. We have not sighted an engagement ring either. If we're on pins and needles about if Christian Grey is going to propose…how do you think the lucky girl feels? Are they going to the chapel or not?
********** Seattle Nooz **********
XXXXX
Saturday August 20
Ana's POV
"Francis J. Lambert?" The receptionist at Riverside Cemetery addressed me. "The grave you are seeking is here," she took out a map and circled where I wanted to go. "This is the most direct route between here and there," she inked a driving path for us. "Are you family?" She asked.
"Frank was my biological father," I admit. "I have my birth certificate and identification with me if you need to see them."
"Not necessary," she said airily. "If you will wait a minute," she walked over to a bank of file cabinets and selected a drawer. Once she was in the drawer, she made fast work flipping through files. "Will you sign for these?" she asked, sliding a clipboard with release paperwork on it.
"What are they?" I asked.
"Well, some people leave letters regarding some of the graves. Say you have a cousin who is conducting a genealogy search – they can leave a letter here. When someone asks for directions to a grave, or when they sign our guest book and indicate the grave they are visiting – we look to see if there are messages. There are three in Francis J. Lambert's folder. One has been here over 20 years." She took the form I signed and put it in his file in the file cabinet. She gave me a legal-sized envelope, a 6x9 manila envelope and a 9x13 manila envelope. "Thank you for visiting Riverside National Cemetery," she said.
I glance at the letters when we leave Riverside. The 6x9 manila envelope is from Frank's commanding officer. He wrote a letter of condolence and included some pictures of Frank with his squad. Additionally he included a 5x7 picture of Frank's Marine Corps graduation photo. His face is fierce and I comment when I show it to Christian. Taylor explains standard protocol was to make the graduates from boot camp exercise in a dirt pit. Their bends, thrusts, lunges and squats created a Pigpen cloud of dirt in the air. After being completely covered in dirt and sweat; the graduates were hosed down with ice cold water jetting at them with fire hose ferocity. The minute they shook off the water like a wet dog…the DI slapped a cap on their head and a faux uniform bib on them, shoved them in front of a photography background and took their picture. They weren't supposed to look happy because they were graduating boot camp…they were supposed to look like the Devil Dogs they had become in thirteen weeks of boot camp hell. Taylor explained if Frank was assigned to Camp Pendleton after boot camp then he attended additional training at the School of Infantry. After the School of Infantry he would have gone on for training in his Military Occupational Specialty, or MOS. Each MOS has different lengths of schooling, graduation requirements and locations.
I asked Taylor what he did after boot camp.
Taylor laughed and explained Recon Rangers can go through several grueling months of training including combat conditioning, small unit tactics, mission planning, sniper training, amphibian assault, land navigation, etc. I thank Taylor for the explanation and look at the lines and planes of Frank's face. Other than the blue eyes, I do not see myself in him.
"Miss Steele, may I ask you a question?" Taylor's voice sounds odd.
"Sure, I'll answer it if I can." I shrug.
"I understand you worked while you went to college and you got student loans. Didn't your monthly survivor benefit help support you so you could go to college?" Taylor asks.
"What monthly survivor benefit?" I give Ray a look.
"Well, don't take what I tell you as gospel, but you should have been eligible for a monthly survivor benefit while you were in college. When your father died, your mom should have received an insurance settlement from the Marines. Additionally there would have been a monthly survivor benefit for her and you. When she married Ray; she lost her benefit, but not yours. Technically, when you went to live with Ray when you were in high school; the monthly payment should have been sent to him to support you. Once you turned 18 there would have been paperwork for you to complete to continue receiving benefits until you graduated from college. You would have been eligible for education benefits from the age of 18 to 26. The amount of payment depends on lots of factors including whether you are a full time or part time student, and the length of your stay in college."
"Are you sure about that?" Ray looked at him.
"I checked into it when I was deployed the last time. I signed papers so if I was killed in action; half my insurance settlement went to Sophie's mom upon my death and the balance held in trust until Sophie turned 21. The Corps explained about the monthly, medical and educational benefits for Sophie if I was killed. Additionally; should anything happen to me now; Sophie would be eligible for a monthly dependent payment. She may be eligible for other benefits but her mother would have to check with the Veterans Administration."
"Is that why your mom never let me adopt you?" Ray asked.
"I haven't a clue Ray; I haven't a clue." I said. "Did she ever claim extra income on your taxes?"
"Not that I remember," Ray said. "When we divorced, she claimed you on her taxes. When you came to live with me, she agreed to let me claim you as a dependent on my taxes. She used some of the insurance money from your father's death to help us relocate to Ft. Riley. I never asked how much she received or the balance of her bank accounts. The only furniture we took with us when we relocated to Ft. Riley was baby furniture for you and a rocking chair."
Ray understands my unease and begins a chatty, un-Ray-like, conversation about Barstow. He tells me about his time at Fort Irwin and courting Carla. When he received orders to report to Fort Riley, Kansas, he asked Carla to marry him and come with him. He packed his pickup with as many of their possessions as possible and drove them to Lake Tahoe to be married at one of the wedding chapels on the lake. Then they drove to Fort Riley. Because they married in March, he decided to drive the southern route via Las Vegas, Albuquerque and Oklahoma City to the base instead of going north over I-80 and points east. They spent the night in Las Vegas and did a little sight-seeing. Ditto with Albuquerque and Oklahoma City. Once he was assigned housing on base, he moved Carla and me from a small hotel in Manhattan, Kansas to the base. He tells me about our early lives together. I am grateful for his forced patter.
The larger manila envelope is from Rosalind, to any family who sought information about Frank. It is basically a family tree, six generations of family. I set it aside. It's at least two inches thick; maybe more. I'll need time to read it. Christian offers to take me to Barstow to see family graves, but there is no reason.
The letter is from Rosalind's lawyers telling me of her passing and where she is buried. A copy of her obituary and a memory card from her funeral are included. Anastasia Rose Lambert, daughter of Rosalind's great-nephew Francis James Lambert, is listed as her only living survivor. The lawyer asks whoever picked up the letter forward the postcard to Anastasia if they know her, or return the letter to Frank's file at Riverside with a note that it can only be picked up/opened by Anastasia Lambert. The letter asks me, Anastasia Lambert, to return the self-addressed postcard to his office to tell him I picked up the envelope.
XXXXX
Sunday, August 2
Ana's POV
Today after we checked out of the hotel; Christian took Ray and I to the Marina del Rey, the world's largest man-made small boat harbor. He and Christian talk fishing and how they have to arrange a fishing and sailing trip before November. We wandered along Fisherman's Village and ate a wonderful seafood lunch at one of the restaurants. It was nice to be in another zip code where people don't recognize Christian immediately. Of course, with all of us in jeans, t-shirts, comfy shoes and sunglasses, we blend right into the Sunday crowd. Christian insists on taking us to Venice Beach where we are amazed by musicians, dancers and jugglers on inline skates. The artists are friendly with colorful and interesting displays. Lovers stroll hand in hand; families ride by on bicycles and the ocean is a big bright shiny movement of blue and white waves against the taupe color of the sand.
On the plane Ray watched the fishing channel on the flat screen TV. I don't even want to know how Christian made that happen. Christian worked on his laptop. I spent my time reading the paperwork and letters I got from Riverside. The family history is detailed. There is at least one page of information for each person on the family tree. Rosalind included full name, birth place, death place, burial place and if possible, the cause of death. Names of spouses with their parents' names, birth places, death places, marriage information and children's information are included. She included copies of birth, death and marriage certificates if possible. She included copies of pertinent newspaper articles (marriage announcement, birth announcement, obituary, etc.) She included copies of pictures for some of the people on the family tree. Each page has a scanned picture of the person if one was available. It's almost one hundred pages of detailed information.
Christian's steward makes an excellent afternoon tea for us. She takes very good care of Ray while I'm immersed in reading about my ancestors who I never knew existed.
I am mentally exhausted when we finally return to Escala. I'm quiet when we eat. I remember to thank Mrs. Jones for the delicious meal, but I could not tell you what we ate. She prepped a month of meals for Ray to take home with him since I won't be cooking for him over Labor Day weekend. I thank her for taking such good care of him. He is humbled by her efforts and asks her how he can repay her thoughtfulness. She makes him swear to bring her half a dozen fresh fish the next time he visits. I offer to walk Ray to his car; but he says it's not necessary. He hugs me goodbye and gives Christian marching orders to take good care of me before he shakes Christian's hand. Taylor stands in the elevator with Ray's suitcase and ice chest of food. We stand by the elevator, Christian's arms wrapped around me, as Ray leaves.
I'm so tired, but I want to stay up if Christian does. He tells me Ray ordered him to take care of me. As far as he's concerned; now is a good time to continue keeping the ex-military-father-who-owns-hand-guns happy. Christian runs a hot bath for us. We soak but don't speak. He bathes me. He insists upon washing my hair and I let him. He dries it for me. We go to bed and spoon with one another until we sleep. I love Christian, but I'm exhausted and wonder how we survived one day without having sex multiple times.
XXXXX
Monday, August 3
Ana's POV
Wake up sex was glorious; but we don't have time for shower sex today. I ran this morning in the home gym while Christian ran with Taylor to John's office. I don't know if he's still journaling. It's not my job to police him. I am however journaling at least once or twice a day. When I see Zann later this week; I will take everything from Riverside with me. Breakfast was a lovely Greek yogurt parfait with fresh raspberries and organic granola. Gail will deliver oriental chicken salads with spinach and mandarin oranges to Grey House so Christian and I can have lunch together today. I thank her for incorporating my dietary needs when she plans the menus for the week.
When I go down to the garage to go to work; the Audi is gone. Christian didn't say anything about it this morning. I asked Sawyer who said he gave his recommendations to Taylor who must have given them to Christian. It's obviously gone back to the dealership…but Sawyer does not know if an SUV was ordered.
First thing I do is drop the postcard in the mail for Rosalind's lawyer; thanking him for the information about Rosalind. I give him Ray's address in Montesano. I don't want to share I'm living with Christian Grey. The second thing I do is have a scheduling meeting with Hannah. I am thrilled she does not pry into what I did over the weekend. Work is quiet. I tell Hannah absolutely no calls, no emails, no visitors without appointments. I tell her I'm going to spend most of my work day sequestered in my office. I have half a dozen contracts which need to be reviewed one last time before they are signed on Friday. I have manuscripts to read and work to do.
Sawyer takes me to Grey House for lunch. Christian and I manage a quickie in his private bathroom. It's exciting to hide from the world and lose ourselves in one another. We manage to have twenty minutes to eat our lunch. Christian tells me he's ordered a new mini SUV for me; I keep my mouth shut except for kissing him thank you. His kisses however, were accompanied by a whispered suggestion to come back to Grey House at the end of the day for a repeat performance of bathroom sex. After lunch, Christian walks me to the elevator and gives me a chaste kiss goodbye. A new and safe Sawyer-approved vehicle is the least of my worries. I will journal it and discuss it with Zann. I don't know how I'm going to work defensive driving classes into my schedule unless it's on the weekends if Christian's working or going to ball games with his family.
XXXXX
Tuesday, August 12
Emails have been interesting today. Carla wants to know if I had a fun weekend with Christian. Kate wants to know when we're having another girl's day. She emails the details for the Bridal Fair dressing fitting on Thursday before Labor Day. José tells me the art show was so successful he can support himself through the school year without working a part-time job. He is going to sign up for fifteen to eighteen hours of classes both the fall and spring session to guarantee he will be eligible for graduation in the spring. He asks if we're going to get together over Labor Day weekend. Two of my authors email they will make their Friday deadlines as promised. It's shaping up to be a good day.
I email Carla to say we found Frank's grave. I tell her about the letters in his file. I expound about the one from Rosalind with the genealogy information. I email Kate I need a girl's day the Saturday before Labor Day and the Saturday after the Bridal Faire. I email José and tell him I'm going sailing with Christian because Ray's going fishing with a couple guys from the VFW. I'm sure he and José Sr. will be welcome on the fishing trip. I assure them we'll celebrate my 23rd birthday; details to follow.
XXXXX
Wednesday, August 20
After dinner, Christian takes my hand and leads me to the playroom. It's time to discuss the redecorating. The leather, wood and citrus smells are still here. The room is clean but it looks different. I give Christian a quizzical look.
"I got rid of the canes, whips and belts. I included several paddles too. I seriously doubted you would enjoy them; so they went away."
I'm very quiet when I walk around the room again.
Christian stands next to the door, his face unreadable. "What are you thinking?"
"It's the red room," I say, but I know he doesn't understand. "Jane Eyre hated the red room because of the ghost of her uncle. H.G. Wells Red Room had a ghost. Many red rooms in literature are connected to ghostly or supernatural events."
"Do you feel like you are haunted by my past in here?" He asked quietly.
"Yes…" I said. Then I take a deep breath and try to phrase the question plaguing me.
He interpreted my pause and spoke. "Elena and I were over before I purchased the penthouse at Escala. She never got a tour of the room. She has only ever been in the foyer and the great room. Only my contracted submissives have been in here. Well, Mrs. Jones has been in here to clean and Taylor was in here to help me remove things." He paused and watched my face. "I want to share this with you if you are willing; but I don't need it. I need you."
I walk around looking and touching. "Can we get rid of the red walls?"
"I saw some pictures of a green room. It was like nature. Sage green walls, hunter green leather, all mahogany furniture. Potted trees lined up on one wall like a Monet painting."
"Can we add an antique mirror?" I asked.
He wrapped his arms around me. "You liked watching us in the mirror at Grey House on Monday?"
I blushed and nodded. "What's in the chest of drawers?"
"Open and look; I'll explain," he said, moving to the side of it. "Everything in here is new, never used. I always buy new toys when I have a new submissive."
"So you bought all this stuff; planning to use it on me?" I ask.
"No, I replaced it after my last submissive, but I wasn't in a hurry to replace her. It was a few months after I terminated with her when I met you. I wasn't actively looking for a submissive when I met you. Ana, I was interested in you from the moment I felt our connection on the WSUV stage. I wanted you the moment you fell against me in the elevator." He admits.
I open the first drawer and am surprised to see it fitted with sections, each one holding various things. This drawer has a tray of items which lifts out to store more things underneath. The drawer holds leather and metal things. I tug at one of the straps, which is attached to a ball.
"Ball gag, to keep you quiet," Christian explained. "This is the mouth drawer. This is an open mouth gag," he picks one up to show it to me. "It keeps your mouth open for oral sex. This is a tongue vibrator. It slides on your tongue and vibrates during oral sex. That's deep throat lube and that's a vibrating cock ring."
I don't lift out the tray; I don't want to know what could possibly be stashed underneath. I close the drawer; I don't need any more oral explanations about the mouth drawer. I open the next drawer.
"Breast drawer," he comments. "Nipple clamps, adjustable nipple clamps, nipple vibrators, nipple suction cups, pasties, nipple clamps on a chain with an attachable clamp for genitalia; nipple clamps with chain for adjustable weights, oils and lotions, nipple rings, breast binding ropes and ties…"
"Ugh…soft limit!" I shudder. "What's that?" I point at a spike wheeled thing.
"It is a Wartenberg pinwheel." He explains.
"For?"
He reaches over and picks it up. "Give me your hand; palm up."
I offer him my left hand and he takes it gently; skating his thumb over my wrist. A shiver runs through me. He runs the wheel over my palm.
"Ah!" The prongs bite into my skin…it tickles more than it is painful.
"Imagine the feeling on your breasts," Christian murmurs lasciviously. "Its partner," he reaches for it, "has five wheels." He gently draws it over my palm and my breath hitches.
HOLY COW. I blush and snatch my hand back.
"There's a fine line between pleasure and pain, Anastasia," he says softly as he leans down and puts the device back in the drawer.
"Clothespins?" I whisper.
"You can do a great deal with clothespins." His gray eyes burn.
I lean against the drawer so it closes.
"So this drawer will be…" I open the drawer to see a selection of vibrators. I know what they are, Kate owns a BOB. I lift the tray to see what's under the vibrators. "What's this?" I point to a purple butterfly suspended between two sets of straps.
"It's a remote controlled vibrator for your clitoris," he smirks. "Body oils which cause different sensations in your genital region."
"What's this," I pick up a metal object.
He takes my pinky finger and attaches it to me. "Genital clamp," he smirks. "This clitoris clamp has a weight on it."
"Ouch and no…hard limit," I say, removing it and putting it back in the drawer.
"What's this?" I point to something that looks like a cactus.
"Three-in-one vibrator: anus, vagina and clit." He points in succession to the short thin finger of the vibrator, the long thick finger of the vibrator and then to the long thin finger with a flat thumb-sized knob.
I blush again, quite deeply this time, replace the tray without asking about the other objects and quickly shut the drawer. I take a deep breath before opening the next drawer. "What's this?" I hold up the silver bullet thing.
"Butt plug," he says gently.
Butt plug. It's solid metal. Surely that's uncomfortable? I'm going to have to go look it up now because I don't remember what it does and I'm SO NOT ASKING RIGHT NOW. I don't want a demonstration!
I place it back in the drawer without further investigation or explanation. "And this?" I take out a long, black rubbery object, made of gradually diminishing spherical bubbles joined together, the first one large and the last much smaller. Eight bubbles in total.
"Anal beads," says Christian, watching me carefully. "They have quite an effect if you pull them out mid-orgasm," he adds matter-of-factly.
"This is the butt drawer?" I observe tubes of lubricant and other things I point at a collection of things, identical but in graduated sizes. "What's that?"
"Anal training kit."
I close the drawer quickly, blushing redder than stoplight.
"Don't you like the butt drawer?" he asks innocently, amused. I gaze at him and shrug, trying to brazen out my shock.
"It's not top of my birthday gift wish list," I mutter nonchalantly. I open the bottom drawer to find restraints, handcuffs, ropes, cable ties and an odd looking thing. Bending down I fish it out of the open drawer. Several cuffs attached to a bar. I hold it up.
"That," says Christian, his eyes darkening, "is a spreader bar with ankle and wrist restraints."
"How does it work?" I ask, genuinely intrigued.
"Well," he paused for a minute. "You know how you press your thighs together to relieve some tension in your girlie parts?"
I nod.
"Well, this keeps your legs apart so you can't do that little press and release thing you do. It holds your legs apart so you have to absorb the feelings, the sensations. One set of cuffs for your ankles, one set for your wrists."
"Oh," I gasp slightly. "Show me."
"You want me to show you?" His voice is a breath of surprise. His eyes blaze.
"Yes, I want a demonstration. I like being tied up," I whisper.
"I like that you are curious, Miss Steele. about my kinky fuckery, but not in here, not until we redecorate and you are more comfortable playing with me. I hurt you – I know I didn't mean too – I was reacting the only way I knew how. It is taking time and I'm better about letting you touch me. But right now, I don't want to lose control and hurt you. This is a learning curve for both of us. You have to trust me to let me teach you things. But I have to trust me to have control and not hurt you again. As long as I have you – I don't have to be in this playroom."
"Do you miss it," I ask.
"It was all I knew, but I want you and right now I want you in my bed," He grabs the bar and my hand and then leads me out the door of the playroom and down the stairs. "I can't bear to hurt you because I love you," he adds, gazing up at me, his expression one of absolute sincerity like a small boy revealing an important secret.
I launch myself at him so hard he has to drop what he's carrying to catch me as I push him up against the wall. Grabbing his face between my hands, I pull his lips to mine. I can taste his surprise as I push my tongue into his mouth. I am standing on the step above him; we're at the same level and I kiss him passionately, my fingers twisting into his hair.
He groans and grabs my shoulders. "Do you want me to fuck you on the stairs?" He whispers in my ear, his breathing ragged. "Because right now, I will – public displays be damned."
"Yes," I murmur and I'm sure my dark gaze matches his.
He glares at me, his eyes hooded and heavy. "No. I want you in my bed." He scoops me up suddenly over his shoulder, making me squeal, loudly and smacks me hard on my behind, so I squeal again. As he heads down the stairs, he stoops to pick up the fallen spreader bar.
Mrs. Jones comes out of the utility room when we pass through the hall. She smiles at us and I give her an apologetic upside-down wave. I don't think Christian notices her.
In the bedroom, he sets me down on my feet and drops the spreader on to the bed and makes short work of stripping off our clothes.
"It's all about anticipation, Ana. What will I do to you?" His softly spoken words penetrate right to the deepest, darkest, part of me. "Remember, if you don't like something; just tell me to stop. Although, I'd like you to use yes sir, no sir, please sir, thank you sir and more sir."
"More, sir," I said, throwing myself at him again.
XXXXX
Thursday, August 25
I email Zann and give her a list of things we need to discuss today. She emails me back an mp3 file of a whistle. She says she'll put on the teakettle and has orange-cranberry-pecan scones.
XX
"Wow," Zann said. "Just wow!" She examines the genealogy items Rosalind left in Frank's file at Riverside. "So, now what are you going to do with this information?" She asked.
"Well, I think it will be important when I finally marry and have children," I explain. "I wish my mother were a little more forthcoming with information. I'm sure she must have relatives somewhere in the USA. She truly can't be the black sheep of the family."
"Did you ever meet any of your mother's relatives?" She asked.
"No," I said.
"Why do you think she's not forthcoming with information?" Zann asked.
"She said she will share what I need to know about her family history when I get pregnant. Then she said she hopes I avoid getting pregnant for another five years or more. She lectures me every time I talk to her about not getting pregnant right away. She makes me feel guilty, like getting pregnant with me ripped her youth and fun away from her."
"You realize that is her issue and should not become yours?" Zann thoughtfully interjected.
"Yes, but I have always felt like I was more of an adult in our relationship than she was."
"Again, her issue, not yours," Zann said. "You need to stop worrying about what mom thinks or what mom did or what mom says. You need to concentrate on what makes you happy. If you being happy centers on taking care of people…then I suggest you are in the wrong line of work and should become an elementary school teacher. Children need you to care for them. Adults should be responsible enough to care for themselves."
"What about Christian?" I asked.
"If you are acting as a mother to Christian…we have to work on the dynamics of your relationship. Unless he is terminally ill…you should not be his caretaker. You can care for him and love him…but you should not take care of him. Do you understand the difference?"
"I do…and now I'm going to have to work on the taking care of parents' dynamic."
"And this is why you journal…" Zann laughed. "Let's talk holidays. Now that you are a couple, there will be twice the demands on your time. Once you marry and have children, it's like triple the demands. You have to determine what works for you and Christian."
"Can you give me an example?" I asked.
"Well, while we were childless, we spent Thanksgiving with one side of the family and Christmas with the other. When we had children, we started rotating holidays between the families. Easter, Fourth of July and Thanksgiving with one, Memorial Day, Labor Day and Christmas with the other; rotating holidays each year. Some of our relatives are anti-Santa fanatics who we didn't want to inflict on our children. We wanted our children to wake up in their own beds on Christmas morning and know Santa came to our home. So we stopped traveling at Christmas. We rotated Thanksgiving, but the boys got older and didn't like spending their holiday away from home. We decided to open our house to both sides of the family on Thanksgiving and Christmas. The boys went skiing with family and friends over their holidays and they were happier being at home instead of cooped up in airports. We bought a lot of airbeds and sleeping bags and had monumental grocery bills…but overall it cost less and was less stressful to have everyone come to us. Our parents eventually retired and relocated near us. You just have to put your immediate family first."
"Thank you. I felt guilty I'm going sailing with Christian over Labor Day instead of spending it fishing with my dad and cooking for him. Now I don't feel guilty. I will see Ray when I can, invite him when I can and email and call when I can't. I will invite my mother but will not pay her way to see me and I will email and call when I can't see her."
"Sounds like a plan." Zann laughed.
XXXXX
Friday, August 26
Christian's POV
"Alert!" Roz sticks her head in the door. Communications just sent you a video to watch."
********** Entertainment Exposé **********
"This is Payden Parnell reporting for Entertainment Exposé! We caught a glimpse of Anastasia Steele at the Sea-Tac Airport in the wee hours of this morning…and guess what; ladies and gentlemen…there is an engagement ring!" Parnell beams proudly as a picture of what might be the back of Anastasia with a piece of carry-on luggage. The hand holding the strap of the luggage is the left hand and when it is blown up; there is definitely an engagement ring. "Miss Steele was flying to New York. We could not get the airline to verify she was on the plane, but we will have reporters on the ground in New York to find where the lovely Miss Steele is staying, Might we venture to say it is at the Grey condo in New York? It is obvious from her desire to keep a low profile that Miss Steele may be shopping for a wedding gown! This is Payden Parnell…and you're watching Entertainment Exposé!"
*********** Entertainment Exposé **********
"Taylor!" I yell for him. When he comes in, I play the clip for him and freeze on the engagement ring. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Boss, it's a Celtic-motif engagement ring. I remember it from the night Miss Falco came to see you."
"Find out where she's headed so we can quash this news report." I bark at Taylor who disappears immediately. He's a man on a mission.
XX
"You have your marching orders," I tell the Communications team. "Grey House will issue a press release it is not Miss Steele getting on the airplane, but Miss Sabine Falco of Falcon Financials, Lynnwood, getting on the plane with her fiancé, Mr. Aedan Keyes of Seattle. Confirm Miss Falco is wearing a Celtic engagement ring purchased by her Irish fiancé, Aedan Keyes. Let the press know Grey House wishes Miss Falco and Mr. Keyes the best and apologize for any interference from the press during an obviously happy time in their lives."
When the Communications team departs, I turn to Taylor. "Did Elena set this up?"
"I doubt it Boss. Elena doesn't like Miss Steele and she's not about to tell the press you are engaged. I don't know who blabbed and set this in motion, but with any luck, Sabine and Aedan will be left alone so they can get married without a lot of press and nonsense."
"See if you can get to the bottom of it. I'd like whoever alerted the press to get counseled on libel laws."
"One thing is for sure, we know Sabine didn't set this up. I'll have Barney watch the sub-club website to see what is reported there."
XX
"Can't we just stay home this weekend and chill? You work, I'll work and we'll have sex in our offices?" Ana suggested. "Seriously, I'm tired of everyone congratulating me and then feeling stupid when I tell them it's a media prank. Ray laughs when the press questions him. Carla is in a snit because she deserves to be told before the press outs us. Kate was hysterical you only bought a two-carat Celtic-motif engagement ring. She said it's not as tacky as Bella's in the Twilight movies, but suggested losing it down the bathtub drain. She said you need carat counseling."
"I hear you. I've told Communications to handle it and tell everyone to leave us alone; it was a media prank which was not perpetrated by anyone connected to Grey House."
"Was she a sub?" Ana asks quietly.
"Yes, number eight," I admit.
"Number eight…the one who hates Elena? The one you picked without Elena's influence, that number eight?" Ana is astonished.
"Yes." I admit it. I don't give Ana information. I will if she asks, but I won't offer it.
"Well…damn," Ana said, shocked. "I was prepared to hate her and be mad at her about this media prank…but, well…damn! If she hates Elena and if Elena hates her…I think I'll make an exception and like Eight despite her history with you. You know…the whole enemy of my enemy thing…"
"You don't have to like her - but we are in her debt." I explain how Sabine told Taylor and me about the sub-club and warned us about the media pranks.
Ana quietly regarded me before she spoke again. "If she hates Elena and Elena hates her…then explain to me how she knows about the sub-club and the media pranks."
I explain the almost duality of their physical attributes and how Elena approached Sabine to media prank for her. I explain Sabine's refusal. I answer every one of Ana's questions honestly. At this moment I don't know if Ana is considering leaving me or shooting Elena.
I take great care and don't reveal Elliott is angry about this situation. He asked if there was anything going on with Sabine when Grey Construction renovated Falcon Financials in 2006. I explained Sabine and I were in a relationship at the time. He asked how Elena handled my relationship with Sabine. He was not surprised when I told him it ended nine months after it started because of interference from Elena. He lost his temper and yelled I should have seen what Elena was like at that time. He asked how I could be so stupid as to remain business partners with her. He said that if she successfully ran Sabine off…what was to stop her from thinking she'd be successful in running Ana off? He asked if there were other petite brunettes in my life before Ana. I told him my private life was private but some of the brunettes from my past are causing the media pranks. What I told him is not the whole truth; but it was all I could tell him. John and I are going to have to discuss this yet again.
XX
"Elena!" Isaac burst into her office. "You have to see what is on TV!" He grabbed the remote and turned on the flat screen TV in her office.
*********** Entertainment Exposé *********
"This is Payden Parnell reporting for Entertainment Exposé! We caught a glimpse of Anastasia Steele at the Sea-Tac Airport in the wee hours of this morning…and guess what; ladies and gentlemen…there is an engagement ring!" Parnell beams proudly as a picture of what might be the back of Anastasia with a piece of carry-on luggage. The hand holding the strap of the luggage is the left hand and when it is blown up…there is definitely an engagement ring. "Miss Steele was flying to New York. We could not get the airline to verify she was on the plane, but we will have reporters on the ground in New York to find where the lovely Miss Steele is staying, Might we venture to say it is at the Grey condo in New York? It is obvious from her desire to keep a low profile that Miss Steele may be shopping for a wedding gown! This is Payden Parnell…and you're watching Entertainment Exposé!"
*********** Entertainment Exposé **********
"FUCK ME!" Elena screamed. "I'm going to kill that bitch!"
"Which one?" Isaac asked. "Because you won't get your hands on Sabine until she returns home from Ireland; and you won't get your hands on Anastasia Steele if Christian Grey continues to provide security for her."
"Christ…all I need is a stupid announcement like this to put ideas in his head! She's got him twisting in the wind. I wouldn't be surprised if they eloped to Las Vegas tomorrow. He doesn't see her for the gold-digging whore she is. All she has to do is get him to marry her without a pre-nup, get knocked up and then she'll own half of everything. Plus, she'll use the kid to lead him around by his dick. Carrick and Grace will be so happy to be grandparents they will dote on that bitch and her spawn. FUCK ME…could this get any worse?" Elena threw her bottle of Hot Passion fingernail polish at the flat screen TV. "I hate WSUV…I wish that damn college burned to the ground. Why the hell did he ever decide to do that fucking interview! He's always been wrapped up in Grey House…and then he goes and hands out several hundred diplomas to college twats like Anastasia Steele!"
"You have to preserve calm, Mistress." Isaac said soothingly. "You get your best ideas when you consider the cold hard facts."
Elena proceeded to yank the strap off her Coach handbag and beat Isaac relentlessly from ass to ankles.
XXXXX
Monday, 8/29
Christian's POV
"Is the plea bargain acceptable to the people of the State of Washington?" The judge asked the District Attorney.
"It is acceptable your honor, if the court agrees to our minimum sentencing recommendations," the DA replied.
"Defendant will please stand," the judge ordered. "Jack Hyde, you have pled guilty to five counts of second-degree assault. Your plea bargain is acceptable to the State of Washington with two provisions. You will receive "no contact" orders for all of your victims. When you are released from prison you will register as a level three sex offender. You are sentenced to twenty-five to fifty years in prison with no less than twenty five years served. Additionally you are fined $100,000. If at any time in the future you decide to recant your plea bargain, the District Attorney's office assures me they have proof of additional assaults and depositions from seven young ladies. Bailiff, take the defendant back into custody and notify the Department of Corrections."
Carrick closed the Skype session to Christian. He wondered how long a predator like Jack Hyde would last in prison. He sent Christian an email there had been no further action taken by Elizabeth Morgan's family. He also inquired about Leila Williams' situation.
XX
Taylor reported a flight attendant at Sea-Tac spotted Sabine and thought she was Ana. He became suspicious when he saw Aedan, thinking he was a bodyguard not a fiancé. The flight attendant gets paid by Entertainment Exposé to watch people coming and going to see if there are any celebrities with flight plans. He was the one who got the shot of Sabine's ring finger. For once it isn't Elena playing fuck-it-all with my life. However, Barney's now has a new media source to cover for stories about Ana and me. I have to keep him happy; I'd better offer to find him an assistant or let him find an assistant and pay what he thinks the help is worth.
XXXXX
Early Thursday Morning, September 1
********** Seattle Nooz **********
Wednesday must be date night for Christiana (Christian and Ana). Sources saw the Grey brothers with their lovely ladies at the Mariners' afternoon game yesterday. The couples entered and departed Safeco Field hand-in-hand. Neither woman is sporting an engagement ring. There was no elegant Canlis cuisine for Christiana this time. Sources say it was beer, dogs and soft cheese pretzels for the double daters. They watched the Mariners beat the Angels 2-1 in a tough, nail-biter game. After the game, Christiana returned to Escala. Elate (Elliott and Kate) returned to their condo.
********** Seattle Nooz **********
XXXXX
Early Friday Morning, September 2
********** Seattle Nooz **********
OMG! Something is in the air – but we don't know if it's wedding bells for Christiana or for Elate! Late afternoon yesterday; Anastasia and Kate were seen going into Couture by Celeste; the designer dress shop owned by Kate's mother, Celeste Kavanagh. The shop was locked and blinds drawn. A strolling musician played for hours outside the shop. He confessed he was paid handsomely by Mrs. Kavanagh so no one could overhear conversations within. Sources could not get a single staff member to spill the beans, other than a giggle and a hushed whisper, "Bridal Faire at Washington State Convention Center on September 10 and 11."
********** Seattle Nooz **********
A/N:
Thank you for the reviews and viewers; thank you for the messages and questions; thank you for the favorites and follows!
I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. My story is the interpretation of my thoughts about how the characters could have, should have, would have acted.