Author's note: I have learned a lot about you all from your reviews and pm's but I was shocked at how many of you could relate to the mom-issues. How very sad that so many of us struggled, and are still struggling with such an important relationship. Much love to all of you.
CPOV
The air in the private lounge at the Mathis Private Airport in Atlanta is hot and humid despite the air conditioner being on full blast. Less than five hundred feet away my jet sits on the runway, filled with staff who are smart enough not to ask what we're doing here.
We've arrived 15 minutes ahead of schedule and as such, I'm waiting. Not something I like to do but since this stop is as important as the business deal I'm closing, I will deal with it. At precisely two pm, local time, Carla Adams is escorted in by Taylor dressed in a sundress and cheap sandals.
"Christian! What a surprise! I mean, not entirely since that guy you had pick me up at the hotel told me you were the one who sent the car to the...jail...but I'm surprised to see you here!" Her arms go up and out as she takes one step towards me. "I hear congratulations are in order. I can't believe I'm going to be a mother in law!"
"Only in the most technical sense of the word, Ms. Adams. Please, sit." She stops and stares at my hand, dropping her arms to her sides before scrunching up her face in confusion. She looks around the stark room and then sits facing the window, her eyes immediately focusing on the jet outside emblazoned with my name on it.
"Are you taking me to Seattle? I was going to drive as soon as I could scrape together enough cash to rent a car…" Her eyes begin to dart from the jet to me to her hands, finally registering the animosity pouring out from me.
"You're not going to Seattle."
"I'm not?"
"No. You're not. Not today, not tomorrow, not in the future. Your daughter doesn't want you there, I don't want you there and my security staff will ensure that you don't get there." Her mask hardens but her eyes flash in anger.
"What the fuck do you mean my daughter doesn't want me there? I'm her damn mother, all she ever did was ask for me to come and visit!"
I wave her off with a flick of my wrist and sit across from her. "Your presence won't be requested again." I give her a nasty smirk, "Consider yourself free of motherhood. You should be thrilled Carla since that's what you've been striving for for the last 23 years." The anger settles in, her mouth opening and shutting over and over.
"Did you ever stop to wonder why you were being followed the day you and that prick got arrested? Did it not occur to you that I had set you up? That I was the one who orchestrated that entire scenario?" Her blue eyes cloud over but she sits up straight, defiance written all over her face. "You stole from your own child! You stole from her and then gave her possessions to a man who abused her for years while you stood back and let it happen."
At this her shoulders slump forward but her eyes still don't leave mine. Carla Adams is either totally crazy or one of the most fearless women I've ever met.
"He was trying to love her but she" My hand rises with the bile in my throat.
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. You will not ever justify his behavior. You are sick in the head if you can sit here and make excuses for him after all he did." I stand, buttoning my suit jacket and then lean forward, my fingertips resting on the table between us. "We aren't here to discuss the past. Your daughter wants nothing to do with you. You are alone, utterly alone. Your husband has left you, your lover is going to be in prison until you're old and gray." I scoff and stand straight, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Ironic, no? You wanted nothing to do with her for years because she had nothing to offer you but she continued to beg and plead and strive for your affection. And now, she's got more money than she'll ever be able to spend and you're the one seeking her out. And she wants nothing to do with you." I lean forward again. "You lost out on the best thing that ever happened to you. That woman, despite your influence, is the most amazing creature. Kind, generous, loving, funny, spirited, trustworthy. And you will forever be parted from her."
From across the table I push a piece of paper and a pen towards her.
"You have ten minutes to write her a letter of apology. In it you will promise to keep your distance unless she reaches out to you. We will get married; you are not to contact her. We will have children; you are not to contact her. Under no circumstance are you to infiltrate our lives on any level. If Ana changes her mind, then and only then are you allowed to have contact with her and even then it will be through me. Now write."
Her mouth is hanging open and the desire to slam it shut for her is so great that I walk to the window and stare out, my palms sweating with fury. Minutes tick by but she doesn't move. I can feel her staring at my back but I will not give her the satisfaction of turning around.
"I want to hear from her that she wants me out of her life."
"I speak for her, Carla. I'm going to be her husband and while I realize you have no idea what that means, I do. You have seven minutes left."
"But you can't just summon me like a commoner and demand that I do what you say! I want to talk to Anastasia! You could be lying for all I know!"
"Six minutes." Behind me I hear the chair push back and then smell her cheap cloying perfume. I am going to lose it and enjoy every minute of it.
"I want to speak with Anastasia! Are you the reason she never called me in…jail? Are you the reason she didn't call me back yesterday? Does she know you set me up you piece of shit?" She must see the murderous rage in my eyes because she backs up, almost to the door when I turn.
"She didn't write to you because she didn't want to. What an embarrassment you are to her. You realize that with one phone call I can have every news outlet in the world putting you and your pathetic life on the front of every paper? She didn't call you back because she wants nothing to do with you anymore. You lost. And as to your arrest? She knows and she's grateful." I hold back from telling her that ultimately it was Ana who made the decision to press charges in the first place. I'm not foolish enough to think that Ana wants her to know that. "Four minutes, Carla."
"I…you can't do this!" For another minute she stands still staring at my profile. Outside I'm as cool as they come but inside I'm screaming at her to write something, anything. Finally she huffs to the table and scratches something down. It takes her less than two minutes.
"The man who drove you here will return you to the hotel. You may stay there for two more nights and then you must leave. In your room is an envelope with $3k in cash. It is the last and only thing you'll ever get from me. Start a life somewhere, I don't care where. Just know it won't involve Ana."
"You're an asshole you know that? I hope you're proud of yourself. What a man, destroying the relationship between a mother and her daughter." It takes a lot of control but I take the paper and fold it, placing it in my jacket pocket without reading it before turning towards her.
"You should get yourself checked. Your lover was seen at four brothels in the weeks we were tailing him." And with that I push the door to the outside wide open, adjust my Aviators and walk back to my jet. Taylor alerts Regina that we are ready to go and then helps Nanette raise the stairs. By the time I sit down and look out the window, Carla Adams is gone.
Nanette places an artfully displayed tuna salad in front of me along with an iced tea but I make no move towards it. Next to me Ros is droning on about a baby shower she and Gwen attended over the weekend while across from us Jacqueline and Make McGuire plan out the seating arrangements for the first of many meetings we'll host. The sound of their voices, while never one I particularly enjoyed, is grating.
I'm exhausted, I'm hot and I'm pissed. I'm not sure if I should be pleased that Carla's letter is so short or hurt for my fiancée. Four sentences. That's all that bitch had to offer after almost 23 years of mothering.
In the bedroom I take off my suit and tie and lie down on the bed, keenly aware that Ana is not with me. I can't bring myself to read the note again, it feels like an invasion but the words haunt me anyway.
Dear daughter,
Since you are too much of a coward to tell me to my face that you want nothing to do with me, I am forced to write this note as if we were in high school. Despite what you think, I love you, have always loved you, and will continue to love you even though you have rejected me in my darkest hour. When you come to your senses and extricate yourself from this controlling, pathetic, excuse of a man, I would like to speak with you. The phone number you have is the one I will keep until I hear from you.
Mom
Have I done the right thing? Have I protected Ana or will this bring her more hurt? Do I even give her this poor excuse of a letter?
For the next three hours I email, notate and prepare as much work as I can from 30k feet in the air. I've never enjoyed travelling but I do enjoy the comforts of this jet so when my eyes feel like they've been blasted with sand I call it a day and sleep until it's time to land in London.
The heavy pit in my stomach is still there when I wake for landing and doesn't go away even after I've stripped, showered and gotten back into the hotel bed. Alone. This sucks. I'm still tired and despite being very early in the morning, I can't fall back to sleep so instead I flip through my phone pictures, smiling at the photos of the notes she left for me when we first started dating.
There are still a few I scoff at when I read them but I'll admit that over the past few months I've begun to believe some of them too. I am generous. I am loved. I am good for her. And I have a damn big dick. Which needs attending to now that I think about it. She should still be up...
"Are you feeling ill?" Jacqueline blinks a few times and then slowly shakes her head, strands of hair stuck to her forehead where a sheen of sweat has covered it.
"I'm fine. Just a little travel weary I guess." I notice the way she swallows, almost as if she has to force herself to do so. Stay the hell away from me then. She hands me my things and I take them but not before looking around for a bottle of Purell first, I don't care how rude I come across. "Here is your laptop with the latest version of the contract, I've had Burt highlight the changes. He'll be on speaker along with Richard Flagherty." She swallows again, I step back.
In the boardroom the information being thrown at my team is nothing we already don't know. I do my homework. But this is an acquisition, not a merger, not a takeover so we all sit and nod when appropriate and smile at the right times. Jacqueline still looks awful but she's competent enough, retrieving documents for my perusal before I need to ask, making sure that important emails get pushed through to me without the knowledge of the people in front of me and running the odd errand.
This is my element. My place to fill up on the power and control of my position. These men in front of me don't necessarily want to sell the family business but I know exactly how to package it, exactly how to massage their egos so that they conclude that not only is selling the right thing to do, it's what they want. This is me, Christian mother fucking Grey taking over the world one business at a time. Except I'm distracted.
I've had my run, I've slept better than I have in days and my balls are empty. Physically I should be on top of the world. And I am except for this one small section on my lower back where I have an itch. Not just an itch; a persistent, annoying, constant tickle that is driving me insane. It would be rude to take my shirt off and see what's going on but that's exactly what I want to do. Three hours later I am so over the top irritated by the stupid itch on my back that I call a break and head for the bathroom.
As quickly as I can I take off my tie and button down, cursing under my breath only to find myself grinning from ear to ear. My t-shirt, one that Ana wears to bed and subsequently washes with her laundry has one of her hairs tangled in the cotton. For weeks I've been teasing her about the fact that she won't let Gail wash her clothes but standing here shirtless in the bathroom of some office building in London, I couldn't be more grateful.
I'm still smiling like a fool when I pull the hair off and redress, happy as a pig in shit at the domestic intimacy. It's so stupid, such a small thing but it highlights how intertwined our lives have become. How together we are.
"Hi! How are you? What time is it there? Do you think you'll be able to come back early? How was the flight? Did you sleep? I'm sorry I didn't ask you all that before but in my defense you didn't really give me a chance."
"Whoa there, slow down," I chuckle, happy to hear her voice. "I'm good, the flight was long and lonely without you to sleep with, so far things are on schedule and it's," I check my watch, "four in the afternoon which means it eight in the morning in Seattle."
She sighs. "Yes. And I'm alone, in our bed." Without even trying to I visualize her all sleep warm and tousled, hair shooting out in every direction, eyes heavy lidded. Damn, my balls were empty. "I miss you already" she grumbles.
"Do me a favor and text me a picture of you right now. Don't change anything, just take a picture and send it to me."
"I look terrible!"
"Not possible. I mean it, just like you are right now. And I want you available when I get back to the hotel which will be about two pm your time. You'll need a private room."
"Christian! I'll be at work."
"Perfect, you've got a lock on your door, right? Use it." She laughs and yawns. God I want to be home right now. "How was class last night?"
"I'm pretty sure I've made some enemies at Pilates. I had them do ball work and band work the entire hour. Even I'm sore and I only did half the class with them."
"Real enemies, Ana? Who? Get their names to Sawyer."
"Keep your hair on, Grey, it's an expression. Not real enemies. They pay me to kick their asses so that's what I did last night. And then I got my ass handed to me by Sawyer. Damn those classes he's been taking. He put me down five times to my two. Heather said he practices every time they're together and that he's got instructional dvd's at his house."
I know I have a room of people waiting, I know I'm being rude but I just don't give a fuck. If my girl wants to recite the recipe for chocolate chip cookies right now, I'm going to listen.
"…and Matt is just so tired so I said I'd take his weekly lunch meeting with Halen tomorrow and let him take the day off since he was just in"
"No."
"...Sri Lanka. What? No, what?"
"No you are not sitting down for lunch with Liam Halen while I'm away. No."
"Christian," she starts, her voice light and gentle as if she were coaxing a horse, "its business. He and Matt get together on a weekly basis to discuss the project. Sawyer will be with me and so will Prescott, who you'll be pleased to know is now also taking Krav classes."
"Great. You're not having lunch with that douche bag." Silence followed by a deep breath which I'm sure is accompanied by an eye roll. My palm tingles.
"I don't blame you for being upset considering you can't stand him but you have to realize that I own a business that will occasionally have clients that you don't like. I don't like some of the women you socialize with but I realize that it's nothing more than business. I'm asking you to do the same."
Aggressively I tuck my shirt into my pants and do my very best not to scream into the phone and use the word 'forbid' but somehow it makes its way out anyway.
"I get it, you do business with him. He wants in your panties and I'm not ok with that."
"As do those women." What women? I don't even notice anyone anymore. Just her.
"Irrelevant. I'm a guy, I know how guys think. I forbid you to have lunch with him." I can hear her eyebrows pop up, can see the red that is invading her alabaster skin and can feel the tension radiating from her. In a strange way it turns me on.
"Forbid?" It's said so low I barely hear it.
"Yes. Forbid. You need to meet with him, fine. He can come to your office with Sawyer present and meet with you in your conference room. Not your office, not at a restaurant, in the conference room. I'm very uncomfortable with him around you."
"Christian. All you need to say is that you're uncomfortable and I'll do what I can to alleviate that. If you had let me finish I would have told you that I knew you wouldn't like it but we are contractually bound to that meeting and that I was going to either go to his office or have him come here depending on what you were more comfortable with."
"I'd be more comfortable if he wasn't a client at all." I pout but her silence is telling. She doesn't know if I'm kidding or serious. To be honest I'm a bit of both. "So you'll meet with him at your office with Sawyer there."
"Yes. I'll leave the conference door open but having Sawyer stand in there would be strange. I'm sure you can understand that. This is still a business and it needs to be run professionally and to be fair to him, he's yet to be inappropriate towards me."
I don't like it, not even a little but this is her business and I have to learn to trust that she'll do the right thing. "Door open, Sawyer right outside."
"Yes, baby. I'll punch him in the nose if he makes a move on me even though I think the likelihood of that is zero."
"You clearly don't understand the sexual power you have then. I've got to get back to my meeting, I've kept them waiting long enough. I'll call you later, send me that picture right now."
Back in the boardroom I fire off an email to Taylor and Sawyer about Halen and the parameters I want put in place for tomorrow and then email Andrea to get an up to date portfolio on his business holdings. My phone buzzes with a picture of Ana, sitting up in our bed, cream sheets around her waist in one of my gray t-shirts. Just as I knew it would be her hair is a disaster but not nearly as bad as most mornings. Because you weren't there to mess it up last night.
At six we break, my team heading back to the hotel, the Fairfield Actuarial team heading home. We'll be meeting up for dinner but we've got an hour to kill before our reservations and I know exactly what I want to do for that hour.
In my room I shuck my clothes off and grab the video camera out of the safe, click it on and queue it up to the beginning. I haven't watched myself on tape in years. I took pictures of my subs in incriminating positions but that was for insurance, not pleasure. At the clubs I frequented in the years after Harvard and the times I was between subs the option to record your sessions was never made available and when I did have a contracted sub, the issue had surprisingly never come up.
I know Elena has tapes of me as a kid, those I'm sure are well hidden and will never see the light of day since they would incriminate her but she also has tapes of some of our time together along with me and other women she would bring in. A few years ago she gave me a bundle as a birthday gift and told me to be careful with them since they were the only copies she had. I incinerated the tapes of her and me without watching, the mere thought causing me to wretch.
I tried to watch the rest of the videos but since she was still my Domme and was either instructing on the tape or watching me with someone she had loaned me out to, it revolted me and those were destroyed as well.
At the time I didn't think much of it outside of indifference. Now though, I can't help but be pleased that at least those I don't need to worry about anyone finding. However, I know for a fact that she has at least three more sessions, all of them involving myself and other women and at least two of us alone. Those are the five tapes I need to find if I can. My face is on them which makes detection all but a guarantee because of who I am.
By the end of the first scene I've relieved myself of a bit of the anxiety that accompanies me when Ana is far away. Enough so that I shower and dress quickly hoping to grab a quick drink at the hotel bar before the limo arrives. It takes less than one minute before I'm approached by not one but two women, both elegantly dressed and well spoken.
"Business or pleasure," one asks. I blink, careful to avoid eye contact. I have been in this situation a thousand times but getting rid of unwanted attention from a female is a sticky position to be in. Sometimes I get lucky and she gets it within the first minute, other times there's a small scene. And sometimes, Taylor needs to get involved.
"Pardon me?"
"Are you here for business or pleasure?"
"Business." I turn my face back to the wall behind the bar and stare blankly but the brunette slides in next to me and leans over, her long hair brushing my forearm when she looks into my glass.
"Bourbon?" If it weren't rude I'd sigh and tell her to fuck off but we're not quite at that point yet. Inside I'm tense though, some of these women have been downright predatory and while I've made great strides in dealing with my haphephobia, I still can't tolerate a strangers hands on me.
"No." The red head moves to the other side of me and leans forward, pushing her breasts as close to my arm as possible. What was I thinking coming in here? And where the fuck is Taylor?
"Brandy then. Mmm, I love a good brandy. The feeling of it sliding over your tongue before it makes its way down your throat." The brunette waves for the bartender but I've already backed up. This shit annoyed me before I was engaged, it just enrages me now.
"Don't go yet! We just got here!" One arm reaches between them to place my empty tumbler on the polished wood and just as the red head reaches for it, a feminine voice behind me clears her throat.
"The car is ready." I turn and smile at Jacqueline, pleased with her timing and walk to her without so much as a backwards glance, my hand going to her back to steer her out of the bar. As soon as we round the corner she stops, grabs my arm and covers her mouth.
"Are you alright?" For close to a minute we stand there, still as stone, one hand gripping my shirt, the other over her mouth. "Do you need a doctor? Should we call an ambulance?" Get off me! Her skin is gray and pasty just like it was this morning but she slowly shakes her head.
"No. No, I'm fine. I just…" Her brown eyes fill with tears and that familiar feeling of annoyance begins to fill my chest but then I look down and see where she's protectively moved her hand to. Over her stomach.
"You're pregnant?" One tear slips over but she wipes it away as quickly as she can, dropping both hands to her sides.
"I was going to tell you in a month when I was showing more but I can't pretend I don't feel sick anymore. It's getting worse, not better despite what the doctors say and I don't want to lose my job so I've not said anything to you because while GEH has a generous maternity policy it doesn't take effect unless you've been there a full year which I won't so I was hoping to at least get you to agree to two weeks when the baby came and then I could have my job because despite how hard you are to work for you're the best boss I've ever had and I need the money and you're so good with benefits and…"
"Holy shit, Jacqueline, stop." My head is spinning. "I don't give a fuck that you're pregnant but I do care that you've been sick for however many months and haven't said anything." That didn't come out right. "I care that you're pregnant I just don't care in the sense of your employment."
She smiles and takes a deep breath, touching her belly again. How did I not notice that before, she's so obviously pregnant?
"Ana knows, I told her a month or so ago but I begged her not to tell you. Girl code you know?" I must look puzzled because she laughs. "Like guy code." Right, I've heard of that.
"I didn't realize you were in a relationship." And just like that the desire to put a baby in Ana's belly overwhelms me. Consumes me. What more obvious way of showing the world and every man out there that she's mine than impregnating her? I didn't even know Jacqueline had a man in her life but looking at her now, not only does she have a man but he has access to her in a way nobody else does. That is the exact message I want spread about Ana. Mine, only mine, always mine.
"I try not to bring my personal life to work."
"Good." Shit. "I mean," my hands tug at my hair, this is so incredibly unusual for me to be having a conversation like this that I'm sweating, "I appreciate that but I also don't want you sick and suffering on my behalf."
"Well, technically it's on behalf of this little parasite but I really do like working at GEH and I really don't want to give that up." We resume our walk but she's still a bit unsteady so I offer her my arm as I would to Mia or my mom and she takes it, her hands damp over my shirt.
"Are you going to throw up on me?" She laughs again and gets in the limo, resting her head against the headrest before waving to the rest of our team.
"I'll try not to." The door closes and she whispers before the Ros and Mike can hear her, "If we can keep this between us until we're back in the States I'd appreciate it."
I barely know this woman, a shame since she's been in my employ for four months or so but I can't help but feel a bit protective when she gets out of the car and stumbles a bit. Again she takes my arm and allows me to steer her into the restaurant where everyone else is waiting. At dinner she picks at her bread and eats a few spoon fulls of soup which just pisses me off.
"You need to eat more than that Ms. Anderson." She says nothing but takes another bite, fighting the urge to gag. She really does look like shit. After our meal we firm up plans for our golf game the next day and then say goodnight. At the hotel I walk Jacqueline to the elevator and step inside, standing on the opposite wall when we begin to ascend sure that if she's going to hurl, this would be the time.
Instead she closes her eyes and bids me goodnight on her floor, reminding me of my appointment with Niles Davies at Huntsman & Sons on Savile Row tomorrow morning. I flat out refuse her offer to come with me should she be needed. Pregnant or not, I can't handle vomit.
Back in my room I face time Ana. I know she's in her office but I don't give a shit. Last night she was a bit shy with our Skype session, a trait that I found cute but also something to work on. I want her as uninhibited on the phone with me as she is in the bed with me.
"You are a bad boy." She starts, my face splitting into a grin that hurts.
"Why?"
"You said you'd call at two and it's close to three. What were you doing?" She pouts her lips to look upset but all it does is draw my attention to her mouth.
"Eating. Drinking. Getting my ass kissed. Now undress, I want to see what's mine." Her eyes roll but she stands and locks her door, taking the iPad with her so that I can see what she's doing. It takes her a minute but eventually she's set up the screen so that it showcases her entire body as she sits on the couch. Today she's got on a fitted pair of pants and a blue silk blouse that I would love to feel under my fingers.
"I'm not entirely comfortable with this."
"What?" My hand is already stroking up and down at the vision of her naked under that silk.
"This. In my office. Can I get a rain check?"
"No."
"No?"
"No. Now take off your pants and show me those black lace thongs I picked out for you." She hesitates and sighs, her chest rising and falling. I know already that the battle is lost and I can't even be mad about it. She's at work in the middle of the day. I'm in a hotel room at night. I put my dick away for later.
"Alright, alright. So what's on your agenda for tonight?" Her face lights up and she wiggles her ass on the couch, clearly relieved to have dodged that bullet.
"Call me when you get up in the morning. I promise to be ready for you no matter what time you call. I'll even sleep naked." Her enthusiasm warms me and soothes the frayed edges of my day away.
"Sounds good, baby. I'll save this for the morning." She giggles when I show her the tent of the sheets and then stands to go to her desk, bringing the iPad with her.
"Tonight Devin and Casey are coming over with Franco to do what is called a run through for my hair and make up for Sunday night." Shit! I had totally forgotten about the salon opening. "I'm a bit nervous for what they're going to do to me. Carolyn Acton sent over four gowns today and they've already told me that they'll be choosing which one I'll wear depending on what hair style they go with."
"I can just imagine the noise level in the apartment." And I'm surprised to find that I'll miss it.
APOV
"The white one. Without question the white one." Devin stands, legs wide, arms crossed in front of him and shakes his head.
"I have to agree. The back will showcase the up do, drawing the eye to the intricacy of the style while the front, well the front just kills. Shit girl, you've got some great tits." Devin rolls his eyes and give Casey a light slap to the arm.
"The heteroes call them breasts now." Franco busies himself shoving things into his bag, frazzled at having so much to do and so little time. I know he's still got to go to the Grey's to do a run through for Grace and Mia and then god knows what else.
"Thank you, Franco for taking the time to come here. I realize how busy you are right now." He smiles and waves me off, shaking hands with the guys and rushing to the elevator.
"My pleasure, Ms. Steele. You and the Grey ladies being there will be the best advertising I could hope for. And this being your first public outing together as a betrothed couple will make it even that much more photographed." Crap, I hadn't even thought of that.
The second the doors slide shut Devin turns and quirks up an eyebrow. "One, nobody says betrothed anymore. Two, he is so obviously not from Italy. And three, if he checked out my man's ass one more time I was going to flat iron his ball hair."
After thoroughly snooping through the apartment, with the exception of our bedroom and the playroom, Casey joins Devin and I in the library. Over Chinese Food and a bottle of wine that costs as much as the gown I chose we gossip about everything under the sun. After we've covered our friends, the Kardashians and the bitch that keeps trying to get Casey fired, the mood shifts, a look exchanged between the men that has my stomach dropping.
"A wife. You, my dear friend, are going to be a wife. A wife, Annie."
"Why do you say it like that? Wife?" Casey blinks and raises a piece of chicken to his mouth, pausing to answer.
"Because it's huge. That man is not one to be trifle with. Committing yourself to him is no joke. Not a fly by night agreement. One look at him and you know he's all in, no holds barred, no hesitation."
"I know that," I say softly, already knowing where he's going.
"But you're afraid." My heart skips a beat, Casey saying the one thing I've tried very hard to ignore over the last week. "Of what?" My eyes burn, my ears begin to ring.
"I'm not afraid." They both look at me with 'yeah right' faces and sip their wine.
"I'm a therapist, Annie. I'm trained to read people. Plus I know you. So I'll just sit here and eat my kung pow chicken and wait because you are going to talk about this." And he does just that. They both do. My mind races along with my heart. First Dr. Fischer this morning, hounding me about my mom and how 'I need to face that head on' and now this shit.
"We're waiting." Devin sings.
"I'm fine." Their brows raise. "I am!" Eyes roll.
"Fear, Annie, will suffocate and kill everything you treasure if you don't grab it by the neck and strangle it first." Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
"I'm not afraid, I'm just…scared."
"Um, sweetie, I know you're an English major and all and claim to have a firm grasp on the language so you have to know that being afraid is the same as being scared." Casey aims for humor but it just pisses me off.
"Fine you annoying jerk! I'm afraid! Happy? I am in charge of the heart of a man who has never accepted love from anyone before. He lives and breathes and depends on me to keep him happy and I have no idea how to do that! None! A wife? How the hell can I be a wife? I have no idea what that even means! And kids? He wants to have kids and…and so do I but I have no right having kids. I have a mother who can't stand me, my father went and died before he even got to meet me, I've got no aunts or grandmothers who had a shred of maternal instinct in them. What if it's genetic? What if being a shitty mother is in my blood?"
Devin looks at me dead panned and then starts to laugh. Fucking laughs!
"What the hell is your problem?"
"You are all over the map, baby girl. And plain wrong. Mothering, or in your case a lack there of, is not genetic. So stop. Take one minute and think about what you just said and pinpoint the real cause of your fear."
"God I hate when you get all professional on me."
"Take a minute and stop dodging the assignment." My eyes roll, he smirks and spears a pepper. My thoughts are a jumble in my head but I do as he says and still myself, drawing on years of therapy to calm the storm inside so that the dust can settle.
"I have no idea how to be a wife. I have no idea what that means. I have no idea how to step into that role." My eyes are closed but I can feel his heated gaze, willing me to keep talking. Is this what all therapists are like? Letting that annoying silence stretch so that you're so uncomfortable with it that you talk just to avoid the silence?
"He's been hurt a lot. Deeply damaged by his birth mom and a few other people and for his entire life he kept himself closed off, totally immune to anyone to avoid being hurt. And then I come along and he lets me in, tells me things he's never told anyone, let's me do things he's never let anyone do. And then I meet his family and his co-workers and they treat me like I'm a freaking rock star. Some of them have actually told me that I saved him!" They laugh and settle back, happy that I'm finally talking.
"All of the sudden he's happy, involved...normal and I get all the praise. They praise me, he praises me. And it's scary as shit because I have no idea how to be a wife and that's what he wants. A wife and kids and a family and I have no clue what that means and how I'm supposed to act and what if I fail? What if I'm bad at it? What happens to him?"
Casey leans forward and puts a hand on my knee. "So you're really afraid of hurting him?"
I burst into tears.
"Oh baby girl. You are trying to steer a boat without ever having taken a sailing lesson." I just keep on crying. Who knew? "Annie Rose, you were dealt a shitty hand when it came to your mother and an even shittier hand when it came to healthy relationships but that does not doom you. You want the truth? Hmm? You want the honest truth?"
Casey hands me a wet washcloth to press to my eyes, whispering, "Just press, don't rub, it's not good for the delicate skin underneath."
"What's the honest truth according to Devin?" He snorts and pulls my face up so that I'm looking right at him.
"You will hurt him. We're talking about forever here. There are going to be times you fight and despite your best efforts you'll say things that will hurt him and he'll say things that will hurt you. You will do things that will disappoint him and you will make him so frustrated sometimes that he'll want to go ape shit on your ass. That's life." He takes a long breath and puts the washcloths back on my eyes.
"And that's when things are good. But that's what you sign up for when you get married. The good, the bad, the peace, the chaos, the highs, the lows, the easy and the hard. Two sides to one coin, pain and pleasure, happy and sad. You can't have one without knowing the other too."
The washcloth drops, his hands find mine and he lifts them to his mouth to kiss them, the act so tender it makes me cry harder.
"You, baby girl, you will make a great wife. You just keep loving him the way you love him. Hold nothing back, don't worry about anything but being yourself and being true to that and you will have a marriage that will survive. Don't try to not be your mother, don't try to emulate what you see on TV or read in books. When he gets home talk to him, tell him you're afraid and have an adult conversation about it. Unity, Annie Steele, that's what marriage is all about. You be you and your heart will mold you into the wife you need to be." He laughs and sits back. "And do your kegals."
At midnight I'm still awake, my body still naked and wet between my legs from my phone session with Christian. After shucking my clothes and giving in to his every request we laid in beds thousands of miles apart and talked as if we were next to each other. He knew something was wrong, I could tell by the way he hesitated when I said goodbye but his day was starting and I needed to get some sleep.
But an hour later I've not moved and I've not fallen asleep. The truth of the matter is that I wasn't really ready to deal with all that shit tonight. I'm still on overload trying to spew the emotions that are on overdrive over my mom. And talking about it, about being a wife just highlights even further that I am alone. Where other women would call their moms, I cannot. I can't call anyone. Not a grandmother, not an aunt, not even a family friend.
So instead I write. I put pen to paper and for two hours dump every fear, every emotion, every confusion I have onto nine pages of loose-leaf paper that I scrounge up from Christian's desk. When I'm finished I don't read it or destroy it. Instead I fold it three times and stick it in an envelope, walking back to the room and collapsing into an empty bed, a hundred pounds lighter.
"Sawyer is there?"
"Yes, he's in his office but he'll be outside of the conference room when Liam gets here."
"Mr. Halen. Liam is too informal."
"OK, Mr. Halen then. Do you want me to call you when he leaves?"
"Yes."
"Are you still golfing?"
"It's nine o'clock at night. No." Oh right.
"Did you wear a golf shirt?"
"Yes."
"With a sweater vest?" He chuckles.
"No."
"Did you wear plaid pants?" More laughter.
"No, I wore khakis and a white polo."
"Hat? Those pageboy things?"
"You're too much. No, no hat. But I did wear golf shoes and drink two mint juleps."
"Oh I'd kill to see you in plaid pants and a pageboy hat."
"Not gonna happen, baby. What are your plans for tonight?"
"Well, Mr. Grey, I am hosting a game night. And despite what you think, everyone I invited over for board games is coming. Apparently you can invite your siblings over after the age of 10. So Gail is getting ingredients for pizza and Elliot is bringing over some craft beers and we're going to play Scrabble. Your brother is going down."
"Ms. Steele, nothing would bring me greater joy than to hear that you kicked his ass at Scrabble but I give you fair warning, the man is amazing." Eliza walks in, notebook in hand.
"Ana, Mr. Halen is here. I've set him up in the conference room with a coffee."
Over the phone Christian growls and then huffs. "I'll call you in an hour or so, ok? Go to sleep."
Before I can get to the conference room Sawyer has already stationed himself outside of the door, a small smile on his face. I'll give Christian one thing, he incites loyalty and dedication in his staff.
"Just raise your voice if you need me, Ms. Steele. I'll be here."
"Oh wipe that smug look off your face, Luke. I'll take you down next week at least four times." He stands, back straight against the wall and shrugs.
"If you say so, Ms. Steele." Bastard.
"Mr. Halen, welcome to our new office." I am so proud of this place and even though I'm sure Christian is subsidizing the rent, I still built this business from the ground up on my own. Liam rises and shakes my hand, his gaze sliding to my chest which is well covered in a white button down shirt.
"It's impressive. I have to say, what you've done in less than a year is remarkable. You have a keen business sense but somehow have managed to keep a charismatic charm about you that keeps you young and personable." What the heck does that mean?
"Thank you. I'm sorry Matt couldn't join us but"
"I'm not," he interrupts.
"But I felt that he needed a few days at home with his wife and kids after being overseas for a week. That is something we need to address so why don't we start there." He nods and sits back, one leg crossed over the other and steeples his hands, a slight smirk on his face.
For thirty minutes we go over point by point the things that we need to change. Overall he's satisfied with Matt's performance but he is still requesting more access to me, something I will not acquiesce to since it sets the tone for future contracts.
"That should wrap things up unless you have something you'd like to add." I gather my papers in front of me, shuffling them into an organized stack and then look at him.
"I'm intrigued by you, Anastasia. You're young and beautiful and smarter than most people I've met. What I'm most interested in though is how you got a man like Grey to settle down." He shrugs and leans forward, his hands lifting, palms out. "The man's an enigma. No friends, no girlfriends despite his looks and his cash, no social life outside of business functions. Then you come along and he's seen all over town, laughing no less, and no longer the aloof asshole we all knew him as but as a semi-nice guy. What's your secret? What kind of power do you have and how do I get in on it?" His gaze drops to my groin, the meaning of his question all to clear. It takes a few seconds, I've never been quick on my feet like that but I come around, determined not to let this snake shake me.
"It's time for you to leave. Consider this a termination of our contract. You have crossed a line, Mr. Halen and I won't tolerate it." I rise, my legs wobbly beneath me but he remains seated, a smirk on his face that frankly scares the shit out of me.
"I'd sit if I were you." He licks his lips and points to the chair, leaning back and steepling those nasty fingers again. "Please." When I do he rolls his neck and then cracks it, winking at me as if he were cute. Disgusting.
"I have one word for you, Anastasia." He pauses for dramatic effect, my heart racing so fast I feel dizzy. "Japan." I know exactly where he's going with this and it sickens me but I hold my emotions together and sigh as if I were bored.
"And?" He chuckles low and sinister.
"If word got out that GEH spilled thousands of gallons of oil in the Sea of Japan and then covered it up, your fiancé would be drowning in bad press. It would kill his credibility, certainly it would kill his eco-friendly bull shit façade he so likes to spout off about and it would undoubtedly shut down the Chinese deal you've been hired for. From what I understand, that's the crème de la crème of all of GEH's acquisitions to date." He leans forward. "You see where I'm going with this sweetheart?"
I shrug as casually as I can and sit back, crossing my arms. "Not really." He smirks again.
"All I'm asking for is coffee. You and me, no security, no business talk. Just a man and a beautiful woman having a coffee together. That's it."
"Are you insane? I'm being sincere. Do you have an undiagnosed medical condition?" His face goes from smarmy to hostile in an instant. "Do you honestly think I would accept that offer? For what? What purpose?"
"Christian Grey is the asshole of all assholes." His index finger pokes at the table top with each word, anger rippling off of him in waves. "He is an arrogant, self-righteous, egotistical, rude prick and I hate him. If you don't want this Japanese shit to hit the fan, then I suggest you give my proposal some thought. You're going to marry the biggest dickhead in America. I'm trying to save you from that." My head jerks back in shock.
"You think you're doing me a favor?" I sputter out, literally aghast at his monologue.
"I know I am, sweetheart."
"You call me sweetheart again and I'll call in my CPO to forcibly remove you from this office and I should remind you that there is a hoard of press outside waiting for a story. You, a leading business man being tossed out of my office due to a lewd suggestion would certainly whet their appetite to start digging into your past dealings, don't you think? How many ex-wives do you have now? I'm sure they've got lots to say to the press about you." I take a deep breath.
"Furthermore, do you really think that Christian would rather I go out alone with you versus this information being leaked? I know my future husband, Mr. Halen, and despite your best efforts, which are underhanded and disgusting, I know he would rather work at McDonalds than have you in my personal space."
"You think you know your future husband?" I nod, a sinking feeling in my gut. He's got something else. Another blindside? I steel myself for the blow, holding my breath when he slides a sealed manila envelope towards me. I raise my brows but make no move for it.
"Your fiancé, Ms. Steele, was seen in the company of not one, not two, but three beautiful women at the hotel bar before finally leaving with a very pretty brunette last night. Arm in arm I may add before slipping into a limo and heading out for dinner at a romantic little trattoria." What's funny is that of all the things he could have said, Christian cheating isn't one of the things I had even thought of. Because it simply isn't possible.
"They were later seen leaving the restaurant, again arm in arm and laughing, exiting the limo at the same hotel, getting in to the same elevator." He smiles, crosses his legs and lays one hand over top the other on his lap. "Again, arm in arm." He nods towards the envelope. "What's that old saying? A picture is worth a thousand words."
"Sawyer!" I yell, his hulking frame by my side before his name dies on my lips. "Remove Mr. Halen and put him on the proscribed list for this office." Liam rises and buttons his jacket, trying hard to keep an aloof look to him but I can see the underlying rage simmering at the surface.
"You lose, Mr. Halen. If you think for one minute that I believe Christian would be unfaithful like you were to your wives, you are sorely mistaken. He is an honorable and good man, something you know nothing about. You are a joke. Now get out."
Sawyer wastes no time ushering him to the doorway and out to the elevator, my new CPO Dottie showing up to make sure I'm not harmed in any way. Once she's assured I'm fine she retreats to the security office, leaving me alone in mine to call Christian.
My heart is pounding. I'm not afraid of confrontation but I don't seek it out either. And that...that, ambush, was something I was totally not expecting. Before the first ring dies out he answers with a curt, "Grey," not having bothered to waste the time to look at the caller ID.
"I threw him out." On the other end I hear rustling and I know he's pulling at his hair, pacing back and forth in his hotel room.
"Did he touch you? If he touched you I swear to Christ Ana I will kill him with my bare hands!"
"No, he didn't touch me. He started off normal enough but then he asked me out for coffee. Said he would release the details of the Japanese oil spill to the press if I refused."
"Mother fucking cock sucker piece of shit!"
"Christian, wait. It gets worse." He waits silently, breathing heavily into the phone. "I obviously refused, cancelled our contract together and told him to leave and then he told me that he had proof that you were being unfaithful to me."
"What? What?" He pauses, "Did you just say that he told you I was unfaithful?"
"Yes. And no, I don't believe him, I didn't not for one second." His voice cracks, stress and anxiety, fear and desperation choking the words out of him.
"Ana, I would never, never betray you like that. I am totally yours, you have to believe that."
"I do. I absolutely do. It's not even a question in my mind. So I had Sawyer throw him out and I'm emailing Matt right now to ensure that he hands over all files pertaining to the project." He's silent and I feel an urgency to reassure him that I'm not going anywhere.
"Christian, I don't believe him, I know you. You are a good, caring, kind, faithful, loyal, honest, trustworthy man and you're going to make the best husband in the world. We are fine, I promise you, I trust you completely." He exhales and then I hear him sit down heavily.
"I would never do that to you," he breathes.
"I know."
"He's gone?"
"Yes. Sawyer just poked his head in so I need to fill him in on what just happened."
"I'm sorry, baby. Damn it, I knew he was bad news!" A heaviness settles on me. If I had listened to him and his instinct, this would never had happened. I'd never have been ambushed and he'd not be stressing out in an empty hotel room across the world.
"You were right. I should have listened to you." He grunts. "I'm sorry I put you in this position, I really am."
"Stop. You will not feel bad for being a business owner though I now reserve the right to screen all future applicants."
"OK," I giggle, "but I was apologizing for his leaking the Japan thing. Now everyone will know." He snorts and gives a sinister laugh.
"Don't worry about that, that's not going to be a problem. By morning he'll be half as rich and if he does anything with that information, he'll be broke by lunch. Liam Halen is no match for me, baby."
"No, he's not."
With the phone still to my ear I march to the conference room and grab the envelope off of the table, walking past Eliza and Missy's offices to reach the storage closet where we keep the industrial shredder. It comes to life with a pop and a loud buzz.
"What's that?"
"Our shredder. I'm shredding his 'proof'."
"What was it?" I watch as shards of what appear to be photos fall into the clear plastic below.
"No idea. I don't need to see them to know you're not cheating. When I said I trusted you, I meant it. Me and you, Christian Grey. Just me and you."