Blame it on the Christmas Tree
by
Ava LeBeau
Epilogue
"Thank you for taking the time, Sir. I hope you are well?"
"Thank you, Mister Grey, your assistant was very accommodating. Anyway, an NDA beforehand? What's the reason for this conversation?"
"Pleased to hear it. Well, seeing that Anastasia is already here with me, this may not make much sense to you, Sir... but I'd like to ask your permission to take your daughter out on a date."
"I thought you already were- Why so formal?"
"Just me being polite, I guess. Expressing my respect for both you, Sir, and your daughter?" Christian let out a husky laugh.
"You tend to get a lot of press coverage, Mister Grey. You're said to be reckless, cutthroat. Ruthless in your approach."
A bemused grin ghosted across Christian's features, "Is that so?"
As if the younger man hadn't even spoken, Ray Steele continued,
"You know, Mister Grey, I still remember the first time I met Anastasia. I'd been seeing her mother for a few months. She was very protective of Anastasia but she finally trusted me enough to meet her daughter. So, I'm over at her place and in comes Carla's little girl, her everything, as she put it. That was it for me. I knew that I'd become a dad. And you'd probably like to think it's going to get easier as they grow older, that you're going to worry less. Or that you're going to trust more. But that's not how it happens."
The older man seemed to scrutinize Christian Grey, who sat behind his desk, reclining in his big executive chair, he himself fixedly looking at the large video screen which brought his conversation partner straight into his spacious office.
Christian studied Anastasia's father for a moment, unsure whether it was time to make the next move yet.
But Ray Steele beat him to the punch.
"You are very rich and influential, a successful entrepreneur and investor... and all this at the age of 28. My daughter, on the other hand, is a young woman in her early 20s, at the very beginning of her career, Mister Grey. How are you going to make sure that there is no disparity in a... uhm...relationship that you're probably pursuing with her? I gather that, in your... uh... social circles, women who prefer to hold down their own jobs after a wedding are frowned upon. I'm pretty sure that a man as successful as you quite obviously couldn't care less about a high achieving woman but instead does prefer a young woman with little to no ambition. Some plaything who only caters to your huge ego and puts up with all your peculiarities."
"What are you insinuating here, Mister Steele?"
The corner of Christian's mouth twitched and he took his time to continue, pursing his lips a little as he was inspecting his latest manicure before he said, "Are you trying to say... that I am intent on keeping your daughter barefoot and pregnant, at my beck and call at all times, instead of... allowing her to keep her job if that's what she desires? Is it that what you're trying to say here, hm?"
Christian squared his jaw, studying the other man's features intently for a moment before he spoke again,
"And what do you even mean by women? Young women?... is it not your daughter we are talking about here?" Christian's gaze was a darker shade of gray and he was relishing in taking in the look that had now hardened Ray Steele's face.
"Anyway," Christian Grey made a steeple of his fingers, "let's...," a smile brightened his features momentarily, "... just for a second... assume that I were intending to marry your daughter, Mister Steele. Do you really think I would want her to slave away at some measly job? Instead of tending to my children, our children, for that matter? Do you really believe that I would let that happen?"
Christian's eyes were narrowing.
Anastasia's father was grinding his teeth, his steely blue gaze unrelenting, yet he didn't say a word.
"Tell me, Mister Steele, when you were out there, fighting on the battle field for our country. Well, what did you think about?" Christian's voice was low now.
"Let me guess... the future? About how you can ensure a better future for your family? Am I right, Sir?"
That muscle in Christian's jaw twitched again.
"That's at least what I'd be thinking about if your daughter were my wife. The mother of my children. My sons. I'd work my ass off every god-damn day to make sure that she has everything she desires. And while I would do so I would want your daughter to be there, doing her utmost to make sure that my children get the best of education my money can buy. That they have a care-free childhood. Is that a crime?"
Ray Steele was still furtively watching Christian, who was now draining the cup of espresso that had stood on the desktop right in front of him the entire time.
"And, just to be clear, there's nothing I couldn't give her. And I can't think of a thing I would ever deny her. So what are you insinuating, Mister Steele? That I'm a chauvinistic swine? Some stuck up prick reeking of old money and hypocrisy? Is that what you're implying here?"
Christian tapped the pad of his index against his lips, staring at the screen for a moment.
"I don't like your tone, Mister Grey. Watch yourself. We're not talking some sort of business proposition here. You're aware of that, am I right?"
Christian laughed huskily but didn't grace Steele's supposition with an answer, instead, he said, "You know, while I can absolutely see the two of us together, we're not talking a proposal here. Marriage or anything as such. As I said, all I want is your permission to ask your daughter out on a date. Is that too much to ask?"
"How can I know I can trust you?"
"Please be assured, Sir, that I will treat your daughter with the utmost respect and with the best of intentions... In fact, I... for lack of a better word, adore your daughter, Mister Steele."
Relief ghosted across Anastasia's fathers face.
Christian gave a dismissive nod, "Seeing that I'm not used to not getting what I want, I take that as a yes."
He stood when there was a knock on the door.
"As for the courtesies, Sir, both my grandmother and mother would be beyond upset if I were in any way ill-mannered or impudent," Christian Grey smiled one of his flawless smiles, yet it wouldn't reach his eyes, while Ray Steele's smile had frozen.
"Anastasia," Christian held out his hand for Ana whom Taylor had opened the door for.
"Everything okay?" she smiled at Christian then glanced at her father on the video screen.
"Of course," Christian's hand came to rest on her shoulder and he leaned in to kiss her cheek gently before he turned to Mister Steele again, "It was nice meeting you, Sir."
"The pleasure was all mine."
Appearances sure were deceiving.
"Happy New Year, Sir," Christian pulled out the executive chair for Anastasia to sit and said, "Take your time, you two haven't talked in days."
Anastasia beamed at him.
Christian took the tablet from his desk and whipped his phone out of the breast pocket of his crisp white shirt before he left the room, Taylor closing the doors behind his principal.
"Andrea? Get Ros on the phone for me," Christian ordered gruffly, heading downstairs to the living room.
Pacing the room he said, "Ros?... Yeah, happy New Year, Ros. Any news?" he reached up to rub the back of his neck, listening intently.
"I see," Christian said when Ros finished, glancing at his wrist watch, "Yes, I've read Welch's report."
He walked over to the large dining table that stood by the window front, pulled out a fountain pen and moved to scribble something onto a small piece of paper, "Me-ta-mor-pho-sys?... I mean, come on... what're they tryin' to tell us?"
Rubbing his chin between his index and thumb Christian looked down at the paper before he stowed it into the breast pocket of his shirt. Deciding to give it more thought later on he started to pace the room again until he finally stopped in front of one of the large windows that was overlooking the gardens, "Mhmm, exactly. What about SIP? Are their systems still down?"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Christian squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, listening to what Ros had to tell.
When she'd finished her report he let out a long breath, "Okay, yes, it's better that way. But I suppose they're back to normal by the end of the week, right?"
His eyes were flickering feverishly as he continued, "Who knows about this, Ros?"
Nimbly Christian undid the top button of his shirt, drawing in a deep breath, that sharp line forming between his eyebrows again while Ros spoke.
"Okay, listen, no one's allowed to speak to the press, you hear? No one. We've got to keep control over the narrative here. That's very important. I won't have some gabby temp make remarks about SIP being hamstrung by a fuckin' cyberattack. And lawyers are so complicated, don't do that. Not yet. I want you to talk to Doug instead. Put him in charge. I want him to make sure that everybody who's in on this knows in no uncertain terms that I'm going to incentivize their discretion. Whatever the cost," his mouth was set in a hard line, the palm of his hand coming to rest against his taut abs in a futile attempt to calm the gut-wrenching dread that welled up in his stomach, swallowing back the bile that was rising up in his throat.
"Oh, and, Ros, their new project... I want Doug's report on my desk. Tomorrow morning. Yeah, I know, Bev's gonna kill me," he let out a humorless laugh.
"Exactly, yes…alright, Ros, tell Welch to keep me posted."
Christian ran his free hand through his hair, "Mhmm, thinkin' about flying out tomorrow. Around noon, right."
His face lit up when he noticed Anastasia walking into the living room, smiling at him. He held out his hand to beckon her.
"Ros, thanks for the update. I gotta go. Talk later, okay?"
He ended the call and took Anastasia's hand, lifting it to his lips to gently kiss her knuckles.
"Something wrong?" Anastasia tilted her head, still smiling, all the while trying to read his expression.
"Only some work related stuff, nothing to worry about. Not today," he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hair, staring straight ahead, the news still buzzing around in his head.
"How was your call? Glad to see your father again?"
"It was lovely," Anastasia slipped out of his embrace to glance up at him.
"Is he feeling better?"
"A lot," Ana nodded, smiling again.
"You must be so relieved to hear it," Christian leaned closer to press a quick kiss to her lips before he asked, "So, what do you want to do today? Lazy day in or go out and do something?"
"Dunno," Anastasia mumbled and drew her lower lip between her teeth, looking up at him as if she were to say you choose.
"Uh-uh, you tell me what you want to do," a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"'I would not be so fastidious as you are,' cried Bingley, 'for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.'"
"Not as pretty as you are," Christian mumbled, kissing her hair while he stroked Anastasia's back with his free hand as they lay there, fiery red flames licking at white hot logs in the open fireplace, its crackling sound filling the room.
"Quite the charmer, aren't you?" Ana teased, chuckling softly.
"No, it's true," he laughed.
"Come on, I want to know what happens next...," Anastasia grinned and nudged him in the ribs playfully.
"You already do," Christian reached for her hand with his free one to keep her from nudging him again.
Anastasia had to admit that he had a point there but wouldn't let him win. Instead, she let out a mock sigh.
"Alright," he mumbled and continued, "'You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,' said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.'" Christian read, his fingertips tracing Anastasia's spine while she'd rested her head against his shoulder, eyes closed, having fully surrendered to bliss.
"'Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.' … 'Which do you mean?' and turning round, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, 'She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men..."
Anastasia craned her neck to kiss the corner of Christian's mouth, her hand coming to rest against his chest. Flinching a little, Christian's expression hardened while Ana snuggled closer. He was sure that the gasp that had escaped him as a reaction to the admittedly tender but unexpected touch hadn't gone unnoticed. He closed his eyes, struggling to steady his breathing for a moment, composing himself, before he slid his arm around her shoulder, pulling her to him while her fingertips brushed across the breast pocket of his shirt.
"What's this?" Anastasia tugged on the piece of paper that stuck out of the pocket now.
Unfolding it, she read, "Metamorphosys."
Ana arched an eyebrow and glanced up at him.
Unsure whether he really wanted to go there, only just having calmed down again after his call with Ros, Christian met her gaze and reached for her wrist, mumbling, "Word puzzle."
"Word puzzle?" Anastasia's eyes darted to his slender fingers that were still wrapped around her wrist.
Christian gave a half-shrug. Best to trivialize it, his heart was pounding though and not in a good way.
She shifted, sitting up a little.
"What do you mean? It's already a word, right?"
"Mhmm," he tried to hug her to him, tried to steal a kiss, two actually, but her curiosity seemed to have been piqued now.
Letting go of her wrist, Christian reached up to stroke a strand of her hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek.
"Just a combination of syllables, you know," he was keen to sound casual but then again, how was she even supposed to know what was currently going on in Seattle?
Had she been in contact with SIP? With that coworker of hers... that Jenna? Or was it Rosanna?
Surely, Ana would have told him if she'd been in touch?
But all of a sudden he wasn't so sure anymore and worry darkened his expression yet he willed himself to sound cheery, "Kiss me? Like, now..."
Christian leaned closer, provoking another giggle, "Please," the corner of his mouth curved upward for a moment.
"There, there," Anastasia planted a quick kiss on his lips and returned her attention to the paper again.
"Syllables," she mumbled, chewing on her lower lip.
"Exactly," the muscle in his jaw twitched as he was watching her quietly mouthing the word again and again.
"Meta. Morph. Sys... hmmm."
"I know," Christian was trying to catch her full attention, playfully walking his index and middle finger up her side, the tickling move making her giggle again.
"I thought we were reading a romance novel here. You skippin' out on me?"
A mock pout for good measure but to no avail, Christian shifted to sit up as well, his irritation flaring tremendously now.
Oblivious of his unintended inner turmoil, Anastasia gasped, "Got it!"
"What?" he tilted his head a little, his brow knitted.
"Amor," she burst out.
"Amor?"
"Yes. Amor."
"Amor, amoris...," Christian licked his lips, absentmindedly twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.
"Latin... for love," he mumbled, more to himself, before he met her deep-blue gaze.
"Mhmm," she smiled, cupping his cheek with her hand, leaning closer to peck his lips.
"Love," he whispered against her pout when he slipped out of her embrace.
"Yes, Christian," Ana nodded, "Speaking of which... where were we?"
She reached for the book but Christian held it out of reach and shook his head slowly, uttering, "Uh-uh."
"Uh-uh?" she laughed, "Guess it's my turn to pout now?"
"That won't be necessary," he grinned and Ana let out a soft moan when his lips crashed down onto hers.
"Not here," Anastasia breathed between kisses, "Ms. Scott could be-"
"Won't be in until 5," Christian claimed her lips again, more demanding this time.
"But what about Kate and Ell-."
"Down valley. All day," he'd rolled them over, lying half on top of her now.
"Mister Taylor is home, I know-"
"He does know his place, yup," Christian nodded, strands of his hair falling into his face, his hand running down her side while he stole another kiss.
"Mmmh, Christian...," Anastasia's hand came to rest against his shoulder, reluctantly he broke away, his pupils huge now.
"What?" he felt around for the blanket that had elaborately been draped over the backrest up until now.
"We could... upstairs, I mean..."
Christian pulled the blanket up over their heads, mumbling, "Invisibility blanket. That better?"
Propped up on his elbow, studying her blushed features curiously, he let the pad of his thumb graze gently across her jaw.
"I guess so," Anastasia giggled, biting her lower lip as what he seemed to have in mind had become a more than palpable fact by now.
Eagerly, Ana ran her palms down the planes of his muscular back, hugging him closer but froze when she heard a voice from somewhere by the door.
"Whoa, what's goin' on here? Canoodlin' on the couch, broski?!" Elliot's laughter filled the room.
Lifting his head a little, Christian grabbed one of the throw pillows.
"Christ, fuck off, E," tensing up noticeably, the strain tangible, he propped up again, blindly flinging the pillow in the supposed direction of his elder brother with brute force.
"I told you," Anastasia giggled, burying her face against Christian broad shoulder.
"Whoops, sorry, Ana, didn't mean to interrupt your little make out sesh here... it's just that we were wondering if you'd like to come downtown wi-"
"Nope, not really," Christian cut him off, his voice muffled as he'd already nuzzled into Anastasia's neck again, his breath hot against her skin.
"Bye, E," one arm still dangling idly over the backrest, Christian waved his sibling off with a casual flick of his fingers.
He was in fact on a mission here, his eyes firmly on the prize but Ana's fingertips playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck sent the most distracting tingling sensation down his spine.
And when he was just about to hungrily capture her lips again there was another familiar voice.
"There you are, baby. What are you doin' with the pillow?"
"Was in desperate need for a cuddle but you weren't here, pumpkin."
"D'awww... don't call me, pumpkin. Anyway, have you asked him?"
Christian let out a low growl, so much for some peace and quiet in the comfort of his own home. And some nookie for that matter.
His face only inches from Anastasia's, Christian's eyes were wide and alert, yet his voice deeper and ragged when he said, "You know how much I care for you, right?"
Anastasia bit her lip and nodded.
"And that I'd never hurt you, Ana," Christian continued, holding her gaze firmly.
"Actually I fear I've been cockblockin' him... Kinda...," Elliot stated in the meantime.
"Yes, Christian," Anastasia whispered, trying to drown out the others' conversation, her forehead creased as she looked up at him, stammering instead, "What're you up to?"
It was Kate again, she laughed, "You... what? Gross, E."
"Okay, excuse me," Christian said almost ceremoniously and planted a quick kiss on her lips.
"Christian, what...?" confused by his firm politeness, Anastasia tried to grab his arm yet he didn't let Anastasia in on what he was going to do next, gently shaking off her hand instead.
"I didn't mean to," there was Elliot's voice again, "...we should probably give him some time to... uh... take a cold shower or something," obviously he was trying to mock the younger Grey and chuckled.
Aimed at his elder brother and his girlfriend Christian snapped, "Yeah, you'd better..."
Shooting up from the couch he was making both Anastasia and Kate gasp.
"Out! Both of you," Christian was by the door rather quickly, glaring at his brother, nostrils flaring as he pushed a strand of disheveled hair out of his flushed face.
"Christian," Ana, terrified by his sudden but admittedly looming outburst, tried to capture his attention, sitting up, the blanket up to her chin while she was taking in the scene that was unfolding right in front of her.
"Gosh, you're quite the lunatic sometimes, Christian," Kate looked scared.
"Good point, dear. Runs in the family, I suppose, but the jury's still out," Christian said nonchalantly, he didn't even look at her.
He was, however, glowering at his brother, jabbing his index in the direction of Elliot's face before the latter could retort, his voice was low when he said, "You guys really have bad timing, E. You know that, right?"
"Chill, bro. I was only joking," Elliot lifted his hands to placate his irate sibling, his expression tense.
"Yeah right... And don't tell me what to do, E," Christian grumbled, turning to walk back to the sofa but not without glaring at his brother again.
"Meet you outside in 10, Chris," as always, Elliot was rather persistent.
But before Christian could reach for another pillow his brother had dragged Kate with him out of Christian's line of fire.
"I'm sorry. That was unacceptable," sitting down beside her, elbows on his knees, Christian leaned in to kiss Anastasia's cheek, wrapping his arm around her when she snuggled closer tentatively.
"It's alright. But don't say I didn't tell you," Anastasia chuckled, her hand coming to rest on this thigh, obviously trying to comfort him.
"No, it isn't. I didn't scare you, did I?" he sounded contrite.
"Well, a little, I guess," Ana craned her neck to gently kiss his jaw, grinning when he let out a low sound.
"What now?" he mumbled, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Get changed and meet them outside?"
"You sure? I don't think we should..." his voice trailed off and he closed his eyes when Anastasia left a trail of fleeting kisses down the side of his neck, surely she wasn't aware of the effect that her teasing kisses had on him, melting away all restraint that was left in him.
But a good sixty minutes later Anastasia sat snuggled up beside him under a heap of cozy blankets in the back of a horse drawn sleigh, their fingers interlaced.
Christian shifted to look at her, his words forming small, misty clouds in the crisp winter air, "When we're back home in Seattle I'd be more than delighted if you'd let me take you out on a proper date, Ana."
"Isn't this a date right now?" she smiled, tilting her head a little.
"Sitting side by side in the back of a sleigh in the middle of nowhere staring at a pair of horses' asses right in front of you? Not my idea of a perfect date, sorry," he stated dryly.
Anastasia laughed.
"So...," he leaned forward and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, studying her expression, anxiously searching for any sign of rejection, "will you do me the honor?"
"A first date, hm?" Anastasia chuckled, pulling his hand towards her, holding it tightly in her lap, "So... let's just blame it on the Christmas tree...," she sure took her time, "But, yes."
Christian furrowed his brow, smiling faintly, "Is that a yes yes?"
"Of course it is, silly," she cupped his face in her hands and met his gray gaze before she planted a tender kiss on his lips.
Meanwhile in the inner pocket of Christian Grey's coat his phone's LED flickered ceaselessly, fueled by an - even by Christian's standards - abnormal influx of messages that were inundating his inbox, the subject of every single one of them reading
METAMORPHOSYS.
To be continued...
