Monday, June 13 2011
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The alarm clock wakes me the next morning-I've stayed uptoo late, catching up on what I missed yesterday. I'd completely forgotten that Ros and I are due to fly over in Charlie Tango for our land plot meeting this coming Friday.
I stayed up for an hour after that, trying to come up with some kind of alternate alternative to leaving Anastasia unattended. I came up empty-handed. We'd be gone only most of one day, but still. I'll admit, I'm paranoid about leaving her alone. I'm paranoid about her going to work today-fuck! Ana's going to work today!
My eyes jerk open, and when I find her leaning up on her elbow, staring down at me, I blink, a tad disoriented. I'm typically awake before the alarm.
The light that filters through my curtains is muted and faded, and I hear the rain coming down outside.
"Good morning," Ana greets me now, reaching up to touch my face-her skin feels soft and smooth against the stubble on my cheek-and she leans down to press her lips to mine.
"Good morning, baby. I usually wake up before the alarm goes off."
"It's set so early," she observes.
"That it is, Miss Steele," I say, grinning at her obvious displeasure at that fact. "I have to get up." I kiss her once more, and then push myself up and out of bed, no matter how much I'd like to stay there and lay with Ana all morning, all day, long.
However, it's another Monday. Nose to the grindstone. I've had a relaxed weekend of slacking off, and now there are things that need to be caught up on. Business ventures, meetings, travel details, etc, etc.
I head into the en suite, piss, shower, brush my teeth, shave. I dress in the walk-in closet, noting as I pass that Anastasia has fallen back asleep. I stop in the doorway of the closet for a singular moment, to admire her sleeping face, half-sitting, propped up on my pillows. I have a hard time believing she doesn't know just how beautiful she is. It's unfathomable to me that she's waited so long, that she's waited for me, of all people.
It's easy to see she didn't go undetected-that smooth, porcelain skin, those perfectly shaped, plush pink lips, that body... No, I know for a fact that she has had her fair share of admirers; I'm just baffled by the fact that she's chosen me.
I love this woman, I would lay down my life for her. That's why it's so hard for me to let her go to work today, to potentially be put in harm's way.
But if I get to go to work, maybe she deserves that same respect.
I dress in a white shirt, a simple black suit, and then head over to the bed. I watch her for another moment, and then lean over, kissing her forehead.
"Come on, sleepyhead, get up."
Her eyes blink open, take in my ready-for-the-day appearance, and then cloud over, darken, just slightly.
"What?"
"I wish you'd come back to bed," she murmurs.
I feel my lips spring apart, surprised by her blatant forwardness, and then I smile.
"You are insatiable, Miss Steele. As much as that idea appeals, I have an eight thirty meeting, so I have to go shortly."
Awareness brightens her eyes when she realizes how much time has passed, and suddenly, much to my amusement, she springs out of bed, awake and at complete attention.
.
"Mr. Grey, would you like me to pack you a lunch today?"
"No, Gail, thank you. I have a lunch meeting. Anastasia would like to take along something though, I think."
"Certainly. I'll ask her what she'd like."
I've eaten my breakfast and am finishing my coffee when Anastasia walks into the great room. She is showered and fresh. Minimal makeup, hair pulled back demurely from her face. She's dressed in gray, a silk blouse and a pencil skirt, with tall black pumps. The combination makes her legs look amazing, and suddenly I'm wishing my 8:30 meeting was a 9:30 meeting.
In the kitchen, Gail is making pancakes and bacon for Anastasia, under my request.
"You look lovely," I compliment her as she crosses the room to us. I slip an arm around her waist and kiss her underneath her exposed ear. Of course this elicits a blush as she slips onto the bar stool next to me.
"Good morning, Miss Steele," Gail greets her as she slides her breakfast in front of her.
"Oh, thank you," Ana says, looking pleased, which pleases me. "Good morning."
"Mr. Grey says you'd like to take lunch with you to work. What would you like to eat?"
Ana swivels her head to look at me, shooting me an accusing glare, which makes it very hard not to smirk at her, which I know she wouldn't like.
"A sandwich... Salad," she tells Gail, "I really don't mind."
"I'll rustle up a packed lunch for you, ma'am."
"Please, Mrs. Jones, call me Ana," she begs her.
"Ana," Gail corrects herself, and turns toward the tea kettle.
Again, Ana glances at me, and something about her expression makes me believe she's challenging me. It's lost on me; I don't know what she would be challenging me about.
"I have to go, baby. Taylor will come back and drop you at work with Sawyer."
"Only to the door," she reminds me, stubborn thing.
"Yes. Only to the door." I roll my eyes, exasperated by the whole thing. "Be careful, though."
She glances over my shoulder, her gaze settling on Taylor, who must be standing by the door. I stand, bowing my head to kiss her goodbye, holding her by the chin.
"Laters, baby."
"Have a good day at the office, dear," she calls after me.
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The eight-thirty meeting is relatively short and to the point, which is great, because I really do have a busy day ahead of me, and wasting time over useless factoids and chatter isn't what I need.
I head back into my office and maneuver over to my email program. I'm delighted to see there is an email waiting for me from Anastasia, a reply to the one I sent just before I went into my meeting this morning-regarding our weekend, the fact I'd like her never to leave, that the news of SIP is embargoed for four weeks, and to delete my email as soon as she receives it.
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From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Bossy
Date: June 13 2011 09:03
To: Christian Grey
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Dear Mr. Grey
Are you asking me to move in with you? And of course, I remembered that the evidence of your epic stalking capabilities is embargoed for another four weeks. Do I make a check out to Coping Together and send to your dad? Please don't delete this e-mail. Please respond to it.
ILY xxx
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
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I linger too long on the signature, and realize that I'm grinning like a dummy, until my inbox pings, letting me know I've received yet another email regarding business, and that I do have work to do.
"Are you asking me to move in with you?" The question is distracting, and pressing. It's not the first time I've thought about it, and as of late, it's seemed more important, crucial, to me than ever.
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From: Christian Grey
Subject: Me, Bossy?
Date: June 13 2011 09:07
To: Anastasia Steele
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Yes. Please.
Christian Grey,
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
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I click over to my other emails, including one from Mr. Kavanagh, and a few regarding the solar powered cell phone.
Andrea calls about lunch orders for the noontime meeting, and arrangements for the flight on Friday.
Ros calls from her office, with news about the land plot in Detroit.
It's a short while later-but long enough to have me anxious-when Ana replies.
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From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Flynnisms
Date: June 13 2011 09:20
To: Christian Grey
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Christian
What happened to walking before we run?
Can we talk about this tonight, please?
I've been asked to go to a conference in New York on Thursday. It means an overnight stay on Wednesday.
Just thought you should know.
A x
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
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Oh shit. Oh hell no. My generally productive, good mood has evaporated, and in its place is familiar suspicious, irate Christian Grey.
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From: Christian Grey
Subject: WHAT?
Date: June 13 2011 09:21
To: Anastasia Steele
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Yes. Let's talk this evening.
Are you going on your own?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
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I know she's avoiding me when five minutes pass and she still hasn't responded. It's a simple yes or no question. It should be rather easy to answer.
To distract myself, I focus on some spreadsheets and summaries.
This is all too much for a Monday morning. It's not even nine-goddamn-thirty yet.
My inbox alerts me of an incoming email and I whip around in my chair to see who it's from. It's her.
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From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: No Bold Shouty Capitals on a Monday Morning!
Date: June 13 2011 09:30
To: Christian Grey
Can we talk about this tonight?
A x
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
.
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From: Christian Grey
Subject: You Haven't Seen Shouty Yet.
Date: June 13 2011 09:35
To: Anastasia Steele
Tell me.
If it's with the sleazeball you work with, then the answer is no, over my dead body.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
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Ten minutes later, I get my reply.
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From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: No YOU haven't seen shouty yet.
Date: June 13 2011 09:46
To: Christian Grey
Yes. It is with Jack.
I want to go. It's an exciting opportunity for me. And I have never been to New York.
Don't get your knickers in a twist.
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
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From: Christian Grey
Subject: No You haven't seen shouty yet.
Date: June 13 2011 09:50
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia
It's not my fucking knickers I am worried about.
The answer is NO.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
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I send the email off and then sigh, running both of my hands through my hair. I know this is not the fucking end of it. I know she'll have a rebuttal that sounds very logical and makes many points. But there's a few things I'm just not willing to negotiate on at this point of time, and going to New Fucking York with Jack Fucking Asshole Hyde is one of them.
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From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Fifty Shades
Date: June 13 2011 09:55
To: Christian Grey
Christian
You need to get a grip.
I am NOT going to sleep with Jack-not for all the tea in China.
I LOVE you. That's what happens when people love each other.
They TRUST each other.
I don't think you are going to SLEEP WITH, SPANK, FUCK, or, WHIP anyone else. I have FAITH and TRUST in you.
Please extend the same COURTESY to me.
Ana
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
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Holy fuck.
The shock only registers for a nanosecond, and then rage whips through my body like wildfire. I want to hit something, badly. I want to hit her. I want to freeze SIP's accounts-which I will do in a minute-do as much damage control on the email front as I can, and then I want to drive over to SIP, spank the fucking hell out of her, fuck her to show her who's in fucking charge here. And then later tonight, she'd get a real good caning-A knock interrupts my steady, streaming, spewing thoughts.
"Mr. Grey?" Andrea pokes her head around the door.
"What?" I snap at her, aware it sounds like I have poison in my voice.
She hesitates for just a moment. "Your mother is on line two-"
"I'll call her back."
"Yes, Sir." She shuts the door and leaves.
Hasn't she fucking realized I've been avoiding my mother's calls all morning? I have work to do, and now, I have even more fucking work to do, because Anastasia Steele doesn't know how to control herself!
I dial Anastasia's phone number.
She sounds exhausted and wary when she answers, "Jack Hyde's office, Ana Steele speaking."
"Will you please delete the last e-mail you sent me and try to be a little more circumspect in the language you use in your work e-mail? I told you, the system is monitored. I will endeavor to do some damage limitation from here."
I slam the phone down, and then immediately yank it up again to call Welch. He answers on the first ring. Reliable man. I'd be pleased if I weren't so fucking pissed out of my mind right now.
"Limit SIP's accounts to approval by senior management."
"For everything, Sir?"
Everything, I want to snarl. But I have some composure. As lovely as controlling every fucking thing Anastasia does at SIP sounds, it's not logical, and it's not rational.
"No. Just all travel and hotel expenses for staff. And put a moratorium on all their spending."
"Yes, Mr. Grey. On it."
I pace away from my desk once I've ended the call, raking my hands through my hair once more. This day is steadily going to hell in a hand basket.
My Blackberry begins to buzz on my desk and I stalk back over to it, snatching it up. Caller ID tells me it's Ana.
"What?" I hiss.
"I am going to New York whether you like it or not," she snaps.
"Don't count on it," I snarl right back, but before I'm halfway through with the words, she's hung up on me.
Oh my fucking god. The woman hung up on me.
If anger were a palpable, physical reaction, I'd be on fire. My office would be on fire. Hell, all of Grey Enterprises would be up in fucking flames.
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Less than an hour later, I receive another email from Ana.
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From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: What have you done?
Date: June 13 2011 10:43
To: Christian Grey
Please tell me you won't interfere with my work.
I really want to go to this conference.
I shouldn't have to ask you.
I have deleted the offending e-mail.
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
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I've had a chance to cool off a tad now, though the anger is going to keep my blood simmering all day long, now.
I am aware of the promises I made to her. I know what I said and what I guaranteed her. What I didn't tell her, what I didn't say was in the 'fine print' of sorts, is that all those promises stand, aside from the fact when she is threatened.
And whether it's Leila holding her at gunpoint, or risking sexual harassment by Jack Hyde, she's being threatened. And so, no, I don't feel too guilty for going back on my word.
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From: Christian Grey
Subject: What have you done?
Date: June 13 2011 10:46
To: Anastasia Steele
I am just protecting what is mine.
The e-mail that you so rashly sent is wiped from the SIP server now, as are my e-mails to you.
Incidentally, I trust you implicitly. It's him I don't trust.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
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From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Grown Up
Date: June 13 2011 10:48
To: Christian Grey
Christian
I don't need protecting from my own boss.
He may make a pass at me, but I would say no.
You cannot interfere. It's wrong and controlling on so many levels.
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
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Rage rips through me once more.
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From: Christian Grey
Subject: The Answer is NO
Date: June 13 2011 10:50
To: Anastasia Steele
Ana
I have seen how "effective" you are at fighting off unwanted attention. I remember that's how I had the pleasure of spending my first night with you. At least the photographer has feelings for you. The sleazeball, on the other hand, does not. He is a serial philanderer, and he will try to seduce you. Ask him what happened to his previous PA and the one before that.
I don't want to fight about this.
If you want to go to New York, I'll take you. We can go this weekend. I have an apartment there.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
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Suddenly, I feel very small, and desperate. Two things I try very hard to avoid feeling at all times.
I check the clock. It's nearly eleven and there is a lot I have to get done before my lunch meeting at noon.
I focus on the task at hand, interrupted almost half an hour later by yet another email from Ana. But it's not what I'm expecting, and the irritation rises again. For the first time today, however, it is not directed at Anastasia.
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From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: FW Lunch date or Irritating Baggage
Date: June 13 2011 11:15
To: Christian Grey
Christian
While you have been busy interfering in my career and saving your ass from my careless missives, I received the following e-mail from Mrs. Lincoln. I really don't want to meet with her-even if I did, I am not allowed to leave this building. How she got hold of my e-mail address, I don't know. What would you suggest I do? Her e-mail is below:
Dear Anastasia, I would really like to have lunch with you. I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I'd like to make that right. Are you free sometime this week? Elena Lincoln.
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
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From: Christian Grey
Subject: Irritating Baggage
Date: June 13 2011 11:23
To: Anastasia Steele
Don't be mad at me. I have your best interests at heart.
If anything happened to you, I would never forgive myself.
I'll deal with Mrs. Lincoln.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
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Lunch is served in the boardroom. Things are moving right along with the solar-powered cell phone, and I am pleased with its quicker than expected progress.
The phone rings.
"Grey."
"Mr. Grey..." It's Taylor, and he sounds hesistant.
Panic rifles through me.
"Is it Ana?"
"Yes, Sir. Er, she left the office to pick up lunch." Probably for that scum bag of a boss. "She's returned safely. Sawyer followed her all the way there and back, but I know you wanted to be informed if she were to leave."
"Yes, thank you, Taylor."
I hang up and dial Ana's number now. Again.
"Jack Hyde's office," she begins.
"You assured me you wouldn't go out," I snap before she can finish her professional greeting. My voice sounds glacial.
She hesitates for just a moment. "Jack sent me out for some lunch. I couldn't say no. Are you having me watched?"
I ignore her accusation. "This is why I didn't want you going back to work."
"Christian, please." She sounds exasperated. "You're being... So suffocating."
"Suffocating?" I repeat, able to summon only a whisper in my shocked, horrified state. I never meant to be suffocating...
"Yes," she says, "You have to stop this. I'll talk to you this evening. Unfortunately I have to work late because I can't go to New York."
Her having to stay late barely registers. "Anastasia, I don't want to suffocate you..." My voice sounds quiet and small.
"Well, you are. I have work to do. I'll talk to you later."
It takes me a moment to realize she's hung up, and I pull the phone away from my ear, numb. Suffocating. I don't want to smother her. I never wanted that. I want to protect her, but if my doing that is making her feel trapped... If she feels trapped, does this mean she's finally going to run?
"I have work to do. I'll talk to you later."
She sounded so resigned, so... Done on the phone.
Have I done it now? Has she reached her limit of me? Have I done too much, gone overboard? Is this it? Is this where she finally leaves me for sure?
I can't face the thought of that, but I also realize that I can't just stop protecting her, not right now, not when it's so crucial.
The phone rings, and I pick it up, desperate for some distraction.