Chapter Two – The Introductions
Elliot
" . . . .Wait till you meet her, you will love her" I gush proudly.
Her frail hands grip a photo of my beloved fiancée, with gleaming eyes she manages a weak but full grin. Her eyes look back at me in the most loving way I could remember, that's why seeing my mother like this, hurts. Regardless, it has never prevented me from remembering her exuberance, months or even years ago. Dr. Grace Trevelyan-Grey and Gracie, my daughter, have always been the pinnacle of my life until I met Kate. The past six months have been monumental, I know it's quick but it's good enough for me . . . She's the one.
"When do I get to meet her?" she asks a bit hoarse.
Before I can provide a much needed reply, I pour a glass of water and hand it to her, "Soon; actually, I have to go meet her now. She has a dance audition downtown"
"Dance," she notes interestingly. "She dances?"
"Yes, ballet and she's very good"
"That sounds lovely, I can't wait to meet her"
I chuckle at her already approving tone. "How about I bring her by tonight, for dinner"
"That sounds wonderful if only I can convince your brother to do the same," she says mischievously.
Our attention is broken by the sound of the room door opening. Christian walks in authoritative and emotionless, something we've all grown accustomed to.
"Speak of the devil" I mumble, making her chuckle under her breath.
"Elliot" he nods and briefly casts a stern glance my way, but his eyes soften for our mother, and that, I can live with. He lowers himself and presses a kiss to her forehead.
"We were just talking about you, Christian" she divulges, again in a playful manner.
"Oh really, I hope you two were saying good things," he expresses monotonously with his emotionless eyes flicking between us.
"Of course," she mocks with a tiny smile, "We were just speculating on your prospects of married, Elliot has already decided to take that step".
"Mother," he smiles genuinely when he comes to her side, almost pushing me out of the way. "I don't want you wasting your time thinking about such things. I'm glad Elliot has decided to . . . . do that. As a matter of fact, there's no chance I'll ever get married. Elliot has decided to step off a cliff, but that doesn't mean I'm going to join him. I'm quite content with where I am. Besides, I thought you wanted me to be happy?"
"You know I do," she persuades.
"Good, then, believe me, getting married is not going to make me happy. I'd rather shoot myself in the leg" he grunts.
"Oh don't say such nonsense," she scolds worriedly, "Christian, you know I don't have much time . . . I'd like to see you settled with someone and Gracie can't be my only grandchild"
"Mother. . ." he attempts to interrupt.
"No, you listen, Christian. Savannah is a wonderful girl; she's elegant, educated and I know you love her . . ."
With Christian's mouth clamped shut I slowly turn my head and cast my eyes to another part of the room. This is the part where Mother is going to feel a pinch of disappointment because Christian felt it necessary not to upset her. Yet, he's about to fail. She doesn't know that Christian and Savannah have severed ties over seven months ago since then he's been casually dating random women and becoming bored quite easily.
"Invite her for dinner tonight, I haven't seen her in such a long time . . . ."
"That isn't going to happen, Mother" he reveals apologetically, "We ended it months ago, she fell in love with someone else"
As expected shock and disappointment swept across her face deepening the wrinkles around her beautiful blue eyes.
"But. . ." I interject, unsure why I'm speaking in the first place, "he's found someone new"
His eyes widen at first then transform into deadly slits.
"Oh" her attitude perks up.
"Yes, you were speaking about her earlier," I say, pressuring him to go along with my eyes, "maybe you should bring her over tonight"
"Who, Elliot?" he says annoyed.
"Your new friend?"
"Don't start with your nonsense, I'm not going to pretend as if I have someone in my life, only to let Mother down. I'm not seeing anyone, Elliot".
"Don't trouble your brother, Elliot. When the right time comes, he will let us know," she smiles, content.
"You're right, I hope it's soon though," I say, matching his stern gaze.
"I love you, Mother, see you tonight at dinner".
This is where I make my exit. "Goodbye Mother"
I smile taking her hands and delicately kissing her knuckles before exiting hastily. As I retreat to the staircase Mother's cheerful voice and Christian's objective tone die behind me, in her gentle voice she continues the conversation. As I approached the front entrance, I spotted Christian's driver, Taylor, he humbly nodded and greeted me politely when I walked up to him.
Christian
"I'll be in front in five minutes", usually his replies are swift but I note a pause from the other end.
"Mr Grey, your brother asked me to take him downtown it's about thirty minutes away. I didn't think your visit. . . ."
"Think?" I snap, " Mr Taylor, I pay you for a number of services . . . . Thinking isn't one of them. You have thirty minutes to get back to this house, not a minute more"
I don't wait for an answer.
"That was a bit harsh. Is everything alright?" she frowns, staring into my eyes.
"It's fine" I wave off.
"You don't sound fine . . . ."
"Mother please, you worry too much. Now you relax and get some rest, I'll see you tonight for dinner".
"Christian, you'll be here by yourself, why don't bring someone to accompany you? Are you sure you're not dating anyone?"
"No, Mother, no one," I say calmly, while she settles herself in bed. "I'm sorry to disappoint you".
"I'm disappointed son, I'm concerned".
"I understand, but you need not worry," I reassure, stroking her hair gently.
Dotingly, I stay by her side to watch her fall asleep. Until Taylor gets back there's nothing left for me to do.
I'm going to miss her, tremendously. God, please don't take her now.
Ana
Complete with horrific bed hair and droopy red eyes, my body is jolted awake by the sounds and the vibration of my phone humming on top of the nightstand. I lethargically drag my limp body across the sheets, leaving a tangled mess in my wake. Without looking at the screen, I answered groggily.
"Hmmm . . . .Hello?"
"WHAT THE HELL?" she blasts on the other end, "My god, you're asleep aren't you . . . I knew it"
I scramble upright, muddled within my own confusion, and the reality of this phone call filters to the front of my mind.
"No, no, I'm already up," I fake weakly and unconvincingly, "I'm almost ready, ten minutes and I'm out the door"
Without realizing it, my tangled feet try to make it to the floor but instead, I collapse awkwardly on the rug along with my crumpled sheets. Silently, I scrunch my eyes and curse mentally in annoyance at my clumsiness.
"Hey, what was that? . . .Ana, are you okay?"
"No, yeah I'm fine" I scrunch my face, "Don't worry, I'll be there in an hour"
"An hour?" she explodes.
"Make that half an hour" I negotiate.
"Fine . . . . But you should have been here already, hurry"
"I'll be there soon," I promise before hanging up.
That's the story of my life. One person, I have tried not to disappoint is Katherine Kavanagh since we were children. She's had to put up with me for a very long time and I love her for it. Besides, Kate has a winning smile that touches everyone's hearts and I couldn't bear to see her disenchanted. She's at her best when she's happy.
This has got to be a record, I make sure to shower and change in less than twelve minutes. I don't have a choice anyway, Kate is going to kill me.
. . . .
Irony is a really fucked up word and it's laughing out loud at me. I must have received four red lights already and with my luck, I may just get a fifth. Instead, that's not what happened when I approached the roundabout, I heard a bang and felt a forceful jolt. In the end, I reacted quickly, making my foot hit the brake.
Concerned, I clamber out of the car not caring about the damage to my own vehicle, but for the person, I have affected. I hope they're okay.
Taylor
"Oh my god, are you okay?" she asks flustered, shooting me a harried smile as she scrambles out of the vehicle.
I'm stunned by her unexpected selflessness, it knocks me over instantly. I was expecting to see some bellowing over-dramatic woman with her voice screaming higher than her expected levels of frustration.
"Why did this have to happen now" she murmurs as she whips out her phone and begins to photograph the fender bender. "What am I going to do? I'm going to be extra late for Kate's audition"
"You're going to be late for something"
"I'm already late" she rolls her eyes, "It's my friend's audition . . . . I'm Anastasia by the way"
"Taylor" I take her extended hand. "Look, I'm really sorry about this . . . ."
"Taylor" we both turn to my boss' voice coming from the car.
"Yes, Mr Grey" I reply, trotting to his half-drawn window.
"What's with all the pleasantries and small talk, we have to leave"
"She's photographing the accident, sir . . ."
"I'm not going to say it again, Taylor. Just take her name and number, I'll have Andrea deal with it later"
"Yes sir"
The glass goes up before I can turn and walk away, Mr Grey appears to be in a rancid mood today, which is like any other day. Too bad though, she seems to be a pleasant young lady so this isn't going to be easy.
"Okay," she smiles just as she ends the call. "An officer will be here in a moment, let me go get my license and insurance. . . ."
"Ms Anastasia . . ."
"No, just Ana" she chuckles.
I smile back, the expressive effervesce in her voice and her demeanor, she reminds me so much of my younger sister.
"I need your full name and contact information"
"No problem, let me go get my license and insurance . . ."
"NO" I shout pointlessly, "Sorry, I mean, that's not necessary. We have to leave, I have to take Mr Grey to an important meeting and he doesn't want to be late. . ."
"But this is important" she states, crumpling her eyebrows. "You can't leave, I just told you I'm late for my friend's audition but I'm here dealing with this"
"I know, and I'm terribly sorry," I apologize earnestly, "I assure you, Mr. Grey's assistant will contact you this afternoon"
She shakes her head, internally fuming with boiling with contempt, I can see she's becoming increasingly annoyed with me.
"Is that him?" she points to our car, "In the backseat, is that Mr Grey?"
"Yes, but . . ."
She skirts past me irritated and goes to his turned-up tinted window. From this angle the only thing I can make out is her reflection in the glass, there's no way she can see him.
"Excuse me" she calls out to him, "Excuse me"
Receiving no acknowledgment from the other side, she begins to knock lightly on the window. My eyes widen in shock watching her bravery and tenacity. Slowly, I walk from the side to the front of the car, Mr. Grey is staring forward, ignoring the young lady outside the car. Cognizance tells me to get in the car before this all escalates; her tapping comes to a halt when she observes me standing on the driver's side. I mouth her truthful apology and get in the car, I'm a bit heartbroken as I drive away from the scene. I glance to the rearview mirror beyond the stoic gaze of Mr Grey to her sullen retreating form, she's not angry but disappointed.
Kate
The noise from the automatic doors pulls my attention from him every time. I'll be on in thirty minutes and she isn't here. I look down at my phone for the umpteenth time to check the clock; it's only a minute later.
"Do you want me to call her?" he queries.
"No, she should be close by, and she won't answer the phone while driving"
"Kate relax, she knows this is important to you and if she's everything you say she is then she won't miss it for the world"
"Wow" I laugh, "That's something she would say. You two are going to get along fine, trust me. The only issue I have with her is that she's always late for everything" I grouse, and at that moment I see her.
Anastasia Steele with her luminous, smiling blue eyes comes jogging through the entrance like her life depended on it and she wearing that trademark expression of guilt where she's looking at everything around the gallery except me.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry" she tries to pacify, raising her hands defensively before she gets near us.
"Were you born late?" I stomp my foot lightly.
"Yeah, I was" she jokes, "Sorry but I had a small accident on the way"
"Oh god, are you okay?"
"Yeah I'm good," she waves off, "but the driver took off, his boss needed to go to some important meeting"
"Son of a bitch" I remark.
"I know, right? He just drove away like it didn't matter"
"Did you get his number?"
"No, I got a picture of the license plate and he did ask for my name and number. He said his boss' assistant will call this afternoon".
"No, I don't buy that" I counter.
"Neither did I. That's why I reported it as a hit and run".
"Nice," I giggle.
"Wait," she remarks, turning to my fiancé, "Is this. . ."
"Yes, it's Elliot," I say hurriedly, forcefully grabbing her hand "Come quickly, we'll do introductions later, I have to go change-"
Christian
"It's a good thing I have the best goddamn attorney in the city or else I would have sent your ass out that door a long time ago, Amos"
"And if I hadn't worked for your parents before I would have taken the offer from the Stanley's" Even though he's kidding the statement still burns, "Working with you isn't a walk in the park. You're the most difficult asshole I've ever come to know in the history of assholes. I should get a national medal for putting up with your shit"
"Fuck you, Amos. Being this way has gotten me this far. . ."
"And created a shitload of enemies not to mention, something Carrick would definitely avoid. Let's wrap this up; I'm meeting Genevieve for lunch"
"How is she?" I query genuinely.
"Wonderful, she sends her love and you should know that she complains about your constant efforts to evade her dinner invitations"
"It's nothing personal," I gesture, arms wide, "I happen to love your wife's cooking"
"I know, in fact, I tell her that every time but I know eating isn't a priority for you"
"Thanks, at least you know me well . . . . Before you go I need you to do something for me"
"Does it involve me helping you piss somebody off?"
"Maybe, but I don't think it will get that far"
Then what is it?"
"Taylor got into a small fender bender with some woman a few hours ago".
"And?" he probes.
"She called the police and I was late for a meeting so . . ."
"You bailed" he completes flatly.
I shrug offhand, "Yeah, I had to go. Like I said, it was a small thing, barely noticeable from what I heard. Anyway, I found out that she reported it as a hit and run when a couple of officers came here to have a word with Taylor"
"Goddamit Christian, why didn't you talk to her?"
"Me? Why should I talk to her, I wasn't the one behind the wheel"
"But you were the one who told Taylor to leave the scene. A little courtesy would have gone a long way, Christian, and in return, that would have prevented us from having this conversation right now"
"What's the use, besides, I instructed Taylor to get her name and contact details and I'm prepared to pay for the damages, I'm betting she would like that" I snicker.
"I don't recommend that, Christian. There's a reason why the company pays for insurance"
"No, too many formalities and too much paperwork; it's a grand waste of time. I won't have my staff milling over something so minor. I need all hands on the Decker account and that's it"
"Grand waste of time you say? What are you talking about it's a simple process . . . ."
"Just call her and give her the money" I direct, pointing to the phone on my desk.
"Me? Oh no, you're going to call her, I already told you I don't agree with this"
"What am I paying you for?" I complain looking around the room.
"Not to go against my values that's for sure. You make the call, Christian Grey"
Maddening, I stab the intercom button on my phone and glare at him.
"Yes, Mr Grey" Andrea responds through the speaker.
"Let Taylor give you the number for the woman he ran into earlier, then I want you to call her and put her through. Do this now"
"Yes, Mr Grey"
. . . . .
I patiently wait as she excuses herself from the noise she's presently enveloped in. Eventually, her voice emerges through the speaker from a pool of silence.
"Sorry about that; I'm attending a function with my friend" I cast a daggered glare at Amos, he could have dealt with this. "Um, I didn't get your name"
"My name is Christian Grey, is this Ms...Anastasia Steele?" I try to recall.
"Yes, it is?"
"You were involved in an accident with my driver"
Silence . . . . . .
"Oh, okay . . . . I wasn't expecting your call" I can tell I caught her off guard.
"I'm prepared to pay the full cost to repair your vehicle"
"That's a great gesture but unnecessary; my insurance will handle it, Mr Grey . . . but thanks for making good on your promise to call me back"
"Look, Miss, maybe you don't understand what I'm offering here, I don't want a cumbersome, lengthy procedure over a broken tail light" I protest, gradually raising my voice.
"You're wrong if you think I don't understand, I understand perfectly well, Mr. Grey, and if you think you're doing me a favor, thanks. But no thanks, I'll let my insurance deal with it because I don't . . . ."
"You typical women drivers," I cut in rudely, "you swung out in front of my car, wasted seven minutes of my day, and now you want to waste more of my time and my staff's time with this minor incident."
My eyes are taken away from the phone when I notice Amos is mouthing for me to stop and he's clenching his fists.
"Excuse me?" she retorts through the speaker.
"Apologize," Amos reprimands in a whisper, lightly banging his hand on the tabletop.
I paused, glaring at him. He keeps repeating it, apologize, apologize.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that" I wait but she doesn't answer, "I hope you don't mind, I did some research and I know you don't live far from where I work. I'm leaving here in a couple of hours; I'd like to speak to you in person if you don't mind. How about I meet you on your terrain, your apartment"
"No, please don't come," she says a bit winded.
"I said I was sorry . . ."
"And I said that it's not a good idea, Mr Grey. Look, I think I heard everything you needed to say, trust me I'm not being rude and I don't want to add any more wasted time to your seven minutes. It's best if we don't see each other, my insurance will handle everything and this whole thing will be a distant memory soon".
Somehow, I feel a slight pang in my chest that's preventing me from speaking at this moment.
"Oh, and next time you want to make a genuine gesture of goodwill, think it through. I can tell that this was a first for you. You enjoy the rest of your day, Mr Grey"
Then there was silence, I remained slumped in front of the phone unsure for a beat . . . . She hung up on me. Amos' eyes are wide supplemented with a cocky grin. It takes a few long drawn-out seconds to realize that the phone call actually ended.
"You see that she hung up on me, that self-righteous bitch hung up on me . . . I'm going to see her" I state, lifting the receiver and dropping it hard into the cradle.
"She said not to come, Christian. You'll only make matters worse-"
"Not necessarily, I can be nice if I want to"
"You'll be harassing her, she doesn't want you there . . . ."
"No one hangs up on me," I say grumpily to myself.
"I can see trouble coming out of this, Christian" he warns, "Just leave her alone to go through the insurance; also it would save me a shitload of grief"
I say no more on the matter. My mind is already made up and Amos knows it too.
Ana
"Do you hear it, sweetie?" she questions in a tiny frail tone and cocking her head to the side, "I don't hear anything".
"No, I think you're right . . . maybe it's broken again" I speculate, looking at the empty display overhead, "I'll go ask Roger"
"Excuse me," I feel someone tap my shoulder. I turn around just in time to see the gleam from his black onyx cufflink retreat.
Wow . . . That is all I can say in my head when I see his face. His voice is refined and charming with handsome features to match, but there's something off about him, something obscure. Maybe he's visiting someone because I've never seen him here before, but then again he looks out of place. He's dressed sharply in a black three-piece suit; the grey tie he dons matches his smoky grey eyes perfectly. Anyway, it's none of my business but I respectfully give him enough attention to hear what he has to say.
"Good afternoon"
"Good afternoon" I reply.
"I was just looking for the Toby Smith apartments, but I also noticed that the building next door is also named Toby Smith"
"Yeah, um, the building next door houses office space; so you're in the right place"
After receiving his answer, he casually moves past me and pokes the elevator button. When it doesn't illuminate he begins to stab it impatiently.
"Isn't this elevator working?" he murmurs impatiently.
"I was just about to find out. Hey, Roger" I catch our building super coming through the lobby area, "What's wrong with the elevator?"
"It's down, it'll be up within the hour," he responds unconcerned.
Mrs Benny's shoulders slump forward, I can tell she's tired and this may be an inconvenience for her and the packed grocery bags at her feet. This elderly woman has been living alone since her husband departed two years ago. Before she can crouch down to retrieve her bags, I rush to pick them up by the handles. Off to the side, I can see Mr Smoky Grey Eyes already moving towards the staircase nonchalantly, oblivious, and obviously not concerned with the women who are picking up three grocery bags.
"Excuse me," I call out to him authoritatively making him look back at me, his face is blank. "We have a couple of heavy bags over here; it would be really great if you could help us"
His blank stare bounces between us, "Sure"
Deliberately, I give him the heaviest bags and feign a small smile. Mr Smoky Grey Eyes in a dapper three-piece suit carrying packed grocery bags was out of his element now. He steps aside and allows Mrs Benny and me to climb the stairs side by side. Periodically I would nod my head at Mrs Benny while she smiles and talks. Mr Stormy Grey Eyes isn't pleased; we're walking very slowly I can feel him glaring at the back of my neck.
"Mrs. Benny" I smirk, swiftly glancing at the perturbed man walking behind us. "Aren't you on the 6th floor?" I hear a small grunt from our unenthusiastic assistant.
"Oh no child, this is my floor" she clarifies, pointing to the number 3 on the wall, "You live right above me, have you forgotten?"
"Oh, of course," I pretend.
When we get to her door, he places her bags to the side and retreats quickly.
"Thanks again" she repeats gratefully to him as he disappears around to corner.
She tries to invite me in but I politely refuse, I'm a bit curious about Mr Smoky Grey Eyes. I pleasantly jog up to my floor and I'm pleasantly surprised when I spot him lingering in the corridor close to my apartment.
"It seems that we were heading in the same direction," I say, walking past him to my door. He doesn't acknowledge me but he keeps his gaze along the corridor. He exhaled frustratingly then pulled out his phone.
"I need my notes, I forgot the apartment number, and bring me a bottle of water" he instructs the person on the other end.
"I'll get you one" I offer while turning the key in the door.
When I return to the hallway he doesn't see me again, but he does see the bottle in my hand. A quick thank you leaves his lips before he voraciously drinks the water halfway down. We both turn simultaneously as we can hear the sound of someone jogging up the stairs. To my surprise, it's the man that hit me this afternoon, it's Taylor.
"It's apartment four-twelve, sir," he says panting to Mr Smoky Grey Eyes.
Then it hits me, I know the individual standing before me, and my face changes from calm to peeved, swiftly. His relaxed eyes scan the numbers on the nearby doors and his eyes stop permanently on mine. For a brief moment, he freezes then his head snaps to me.
"Anastasia Steele?" he inquires, while I watch his facial features harden.
"YOU . . . I should have known it was you. What are you doing here? I specifically told you not to come"
"You specifically told me . . . Do you know who you're talking to?"
"No, but from the sound of it, you're making yourself out to be quite noteworthy in my presence. I was never rude or discourteous to you during your phone call, I asked you not to come, yet you're here making grand pronouncements of who you are"
"My offer to pay for the repairs to your car still stands, Ms Steele"
"And I don't want it, Mr. Grey" she crosses her arms over her chest, "This must be really hard for you isn't it, someone is actually saying no to you . . . ."
"I didn't come here so you can play mind games with me, I came to make you an offer . . . ."
"And I said I don't want it, so please leave" I'm about to walk away when he speaks again.
"What else do you want?" he snickers.
"Excuse me?"
"You must want something else or you won't be holding out so long . . . ."
I take a step closer to him, "Now you're the one playing mind games, you're rude, disrespectful, and very presumptuous. You have no awareness of the people around you or their emotions and I can see clearly you're a walking empty shell with no regard for anyone but yourself. . . ."
"You don't know me. . ."
"I don't have to," my voice elevates, "Your first impression on the phone tanked and it's even worse in person. Your selfish attitude couldn't bring you to help an old lady with heavy grocery bags without someone asking you. When was the last time you did something nice for someone for no reason at all, or do you do it, and require that you get something in return."
"Excuse me?"
"Or is that you have something against women?" I bait.
"What?"
"Women," I repeat clearly, "Do you have something against us, and don't think I didn't pick up on your sexist assumption earlier. You were way out of line to suggest that I'm a terrible driver just because I'm a woman"
"I didn't say that. . ."
"No, but you were thinking it, I could tell. You believed the accident was my fault and you stressed upon it because I'm a woman"
"You need to back off" he cautions.
"Just admit it . . ."
"I don't have to answer you; the only reason I'm here is to offer you full payment for the damages to your vehicle. Believe me, this is the last place I wanted to be but I thought this would be a peace offering"
"And yet you here, with your false peace offering, you're invading my space, and you're attempting to intimidate me with your presence?"
"And don't forget my money, because that's what you really want isn't it" he lifts an eyebrow sarcastically.
"Get out," I point down the hall to the staircase. "If you're that important then what the hell are you doing here talking to me yourself, you should have someone else to speak on your behalf. Instead, you came to pick a fight with me-"
"I tried that already, but you reported the accident as a hit and run. I distinctly heard my driver tell you that it would be handled"
"And you expected me to believe that? You could've spoken to me in person, you could've given me your business card as a sign of good faith, but you did none of the above and now you come here with a peace offering. No thanks, again, my insurance will handle it"
When I turn to walk away, I feel him grab me by my fingers, it jolts me, so I pull away. The sensation is so shocking that I flex my hand to shake the feeling.
He raises his hands defensively, "Sorry for grabbing you and I don't know why I did that. Look, there's no need to go through the insurance, I said I would take care of it"
"And I already said no" I remind him.
He's still holding the bottle of water I'd offered him earlier. I snatch it crudely from his hand, the cap pops off and spills some of the contents on his pants and shoes. His eyes go wide as he assesses his condition.
"I see how this is going to end and you can forget it. I'm not going to offer you any more money," he declares pulling a handkerchief from his jacket to wipe his hands.
"I don't want your money you selfish, arrogant man. You think you can come to my door uninvited and throw your cash at me"
"Yes," he replies smugly, casting his gaze behind me. "Look at this place, you practically live in a dump"
"Get out you asshole . . . ."
"It's people like you who wait for the right moment to meet someone like me so you can get a big payday. I see what's going on here; this whole thing was a setup so we'd meet like this. The old lady, the elevator, the stairs, the whole thing . . ."
The decibels in the hallway seem to be getting louder with every passing second. A few doors opened around us, and my neighbors were emerging from their homes, spilling into the corridor. Unconcerned with everything else we hadn't realized that an audience was beginning to gather.
"Oh my god, you're delusional and crazy? Do you think I had something to do with the elevator not working? Do you think I planned this? You think I'd go through all of this trouble for you, trust me I highly doubt you're worth anyone's time or effort"
"I told you I was coming here, at this time. . ."
"And I told you NOT TO COME. My insurance company will handle the claim; you made that poor man leave the scene of an accident before he could make a report. I heard you barking orders at him like a foaming Pitbull on a leash. Not because you order him around like he doesn't matter, doesn't mean you can do the same thing to me. Take your arrogant ass and your money and get out of here. If you're trying to circumvent your insurance company and you don't want them to know about the accident that's your problem. . ."
"No, at this point you're my problem" he seethes viciously taking a step towards me.
"I'm not afraid of you" I blurt out recklessly.
"No, but you will be" he guarantees, thrusting a rigid finger to my face.
Tensions are high and my adrenaline is off the charts, I've never come across someone who made me so angry. A restraining grip by my neighbour Will is holding me in place but that doesn't stop my mouth from going off. Mr Smoky Grey Eyes is wearing a façade of fury and menace. Will is yanking me away but my free hand with the bottle of water points threateningly to him while we hurl insults and derogatory terms back and forth. It's incredible that so much anger could be generated between two strangers in a matter of minutes over differing views. Eventually, he shuts his mouth and squints his eyes as I continue to scream and berate him fearlessly. His face morphs into loathing and without another word, he silently turns and walks to the staircase. I end my rant by shouting to his back not to return and that I'll make sure that he will regret it if he does.
I leave everyone in the corridor and shut my door before leaning against it, inhaling and exhaling my whimpering frustrations and elevated angst. This isn't me, I'm not always this confrontational, but he made me so mad and he tried to demean me in the process. God, I hope that this is the end, and I don't have to face that man or anyone like him as a matter of fact.
Kate
There are no lights on but I smell popcorn, following the light coming from the TV, I make my way to the living room and I plop down next to her on the sofa. With no permission needed, I shove my hand in the oversized bowl. Her eyes are gazing emptily at the couple on the screen.
"What happened?" I investigate as I begin to pop each kernel in my mouth one by one.
"Nothing"
"It's always something when you're watching Titanic, Ana"
"I had an evening, that's all"
"Do you mean the accident?"
"It's not just the accident" she takes a cleansing breath, "I don't want to talk about it. Believe me, it's nothing worth explaining"
"Well, I have some news that will perk you up. Elliot's mother is having a small dinner party and he has invited us, you and me"
"Tonight?" she inquires.
"Yeah . . . You up for it"
"Sure, I don't mind focusing on something else," she accepts with a tiny smile, "and I'll wear my third-wheel dress"
"Aw don't say that," I chuckle, "You're not a third wheel"
Her face suddenly grows somber, "I missed you, but I'm glad you're back"
"Yeah, I missed you too, and not because Elliot is in the picture that means that things have changed between us"
"Yeah, I know . . . I'm really happy for you two, he seems like a nice guy"
"He is, and he makes me happy"
"You do look happy"
"One day you'll be happy too, I can feel it"
"Thanks, I hope so"
I lean over and she catches me in a warm, loving embrace.
Ana
Listening to rain at night relaxes me; it's like a different genre of music. A melodious shower of water is drumming against roofs, windows, and umbrellas, a chilly cloak of air enveloping you, a mixture of nature and essence colliding with your senses. If it wasn't for this I'd be sitting in bed wrapped up in my sheets looking at my window thinking about my past . . . and the future.
I'm a bit taken aback when we're greeted cordially by a butler at the entrance. So far, in my life, I've only known one wealthy person, and that's Kate. Getting to know others she's affiliated herself with over the years has taken some getting used to, the rich is a mysterious, exclusive world I'll never understand. Apart from the obvious grandeur, there is warmth and hominess, something I wouldn't have expected in such a beautiful space. I try my best not to stare too long at Kate and Elliot's connected hands, I'm a bit envious but glad to be here to witness my friend's happiness. I was concerned when she came back and told me about the engagement. My initial thoughts were understandable; things were going too fast, this was happening too soon and besides the obvious, I hardly know anything about Elliot.
Come to think of it, I don't even know his last name.
"Mother" his voice is buoyant when we enter the room; he leans over and places a kiss on her forehead. "This is Katherine Kavanagh, my fiancée"
"Finally, it's very good to meet you, Katherine," she says a bit weak but she has a strong effervescent smile.
"It's good to meet you too Mrs. Grey, Elliot talks about you all the time and please, call me Kate."
"Well you can call me Grace," she counters gladly.
"Mother," Elliot pulls her attention away, "This is Anastasia Steele, Kate's best friend"
She scans me from head to toe with a hint of delight in her eyes, "Welcome Anastasia, are you a dancer as well?"
"No" I reply respectfully, "I'm not that graceful or fluent, actually I'm quite the opposite"
"So what do you do, my dear?"
"I'm an Apprentice Pastry Chef," I say fulsomely, "I love to cook and bake, and sometimes I do some food catering on the side."
"You have a love for food," she smiles, and I simply nod, "Perfect, tell me, Anastasia . . ."
"You can call me Ana"
"Okay . . . Ana . . . Do you make pies, because I haven't had a good homemade pie in years?"
I take a quick glance at Elliot who is smiling from ear to ear, "Yes I do, Ma'am, in fact, I love berry pies"
"Wonderful, you shall make me one as soon as possible, okay?" she winks playfully.
"Okay," I agree.
"Come," she motions to us, "Come sit at the dinner table, Mia and Mimi are on the way, Amos and Genevieve are running late and your brother . . . well you know your brother Elliot, he promised to leave the office over an hour ago, I hope he won't make an appearance alone tonight"
Kate trains her confused eyes to Elliot and in return, a dumbfounded look sweeps over his face.
Over the course of ninety minutes, Elliot's sister, Mia and her female friend, Mimi join us and an elderly couple, which I'm guessing, is Genevieve and Amos. From the conversation between Mia and Grace, I think Mia is in the fashion industry, she is stunning and sophisticated and has great taste in clothes and shoes, and so does her friend. Genevieve is a retired school principal and Amos is a corporate attorney and doting grandparents. It isn't difficult for me to remain mute and invisible on the sidelines while everyone is mostly taken by Elliot and Kate. Periodically someone would ask me a question or generously include me in the conversations, so I do my best to participate; I wouldn't want to embarrass Kate.
After a lovely four-course meal, we cluster ourselves into small groups across the living room. Outside it's cold and the rain is incessant, flashes of lightning would momentarily light up the night skies. At first, Kate rolled out her ideas for the next six months, which entailed more auditions and of course the wedding. I, on the other hand, want to purchase a special spot to deliver an idea I've had cocooned in my head for a very long time. I'm very close to my goal.
"Sorry I'm late, Mother I had to deal with an unexpected matter at the office" a man bolts into the room making a beeline to Grace.
Suddenly I feel uneasy and hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There's more to this feeling because I recognize his voice. Slowly, my mind goes into denial when I see his face, and his eyes make a gradual sweep of the room.
"Please everyone I'm sorry for the hold . . up" We lock eyes and I'm frozen in place.
Cold and exposed are the only words coming to mind about now, and I'm hoping that what I'm seeing is a figment of my imagination. My heart begins to pound rapidly; I can hear it in my ears. I can't believe this, three times in one day, what is happening here.
Christian
Just when I thought this day couldn't get any worse, I found the object of today's frustration at my mother's home, standing on the other side of the living room. Amos is poised on the couch next to Genevieve with a smirk on his face, swirling a glass of whiskey, smug bastard. He must have connected the dots before I got here but failed to warn me beforehand, some friend he is.
"Good, you're here,"
Taking my eyes away for a brief moment I find my brother standing next to me, I didn't even notice when he approached me and I gladly follow when he requests that I go to his new fiancée and her friend for an introduction. We're locked in a lengthy stare as I get closer to them.
"Kate this is my brother, Christian" Elliot presents; I do my best to take my eyes away from the woman standing next to her.
"Pleasure to meet you," I say gentlemanly, "I've heard my brother speak of nothing else since he first laid eyes on you. You've captured him"
"And he has done the same to me" she confesses, looking back at him with a smile.
"And" he carries on, "this is Kate's roommate and best friend, Ms Anastasia . . ."
"Steele, yes I know we've met," I cut across flat.
"You have?" he balks, "When?"
I ignore him, "Can I have a word with you, Ms Steele?"
With wide eyes, she looks back and forth to her friend and my brother for god knows what. I hate making requests twice but in this case, I'll make an exception, I can tell she's stupefied.
"Ms Steele, can I have a word with you?" I repeat.
Ana
Taking small steps, I follow him out of the room down a hallway. The scent of his fragrance glides straight towards my nostrils, making me forget about this horrid individual for a fraction of a second. I tend to appreciate a man that is well-groomed and smells good. He unexpectedly halts and turns directly into my path staring down at me. I bite my lip hard willing myself not to be intimidated. He inhales and closes his eyes for a brief moment, then exhales serenely.
He snickers, "You're not afraid of me"
"Why should I?" I say below my breath.
His eyes gaze into my mine, searching my face for something; he sneers and scoffs during our staring match.
"By your expression, I can tell that you didn't know I would be here"
"No I didn't, and if I knew I wouldn't have come"
"Wise choice, but it's just been revealed that you're my brother's fiancée's best friend and most likely I'll be seeing you more than I'd like to. However, this encounter is enough for me, enough for one day"
"I couldn't agree with you more," I say tight.
"Good, so from here on I don't want to ever see you in this house. Is this anyway unclear?" his voice is smooth but deadly.
"No" I reply in a similar tone.
"Good"
Elliot
It's been eating away at me for the past half an hour. How does Christian know Ana? I've asked Kate about it but she doesn't have a clue either.
Mother is poised quietly across the room bearing witness to what I'm watching also. Christian had just emerged from the corridor without Ana and went to pour himself a glass. Amos has joined him and he seems to be the only one talking, Christian is too busy knocking back shots of alcohol at the moment. Eventually, Ana walks out with a strained frown on her face. My mother's smiling eyes follow her across the room where she resumes her position next to Kate. There's a hint of mischief in Mother's eyes and it's here I take the opportunity to explore more.
"How are you doing?" I sit next to her.
"I'm fine. I'm just happy all of you are here . . How does Christian know Ana?"
"I'm asking myself the same question" I look over to Ana, who seems to be a bit irate, "I'm just as curious as you are."
"I like her," she declares notably, "She appears confident and very resilient, reminds me of myself at that age. She doesn't seem to be riding on Kate's prowess, she is very independent in her thinking and is working towards a goal".
"Hmm" I scrunch my eyebrows. "I haven't known her for long, but Kate describes her in this way as well, your assessment of her personality is very astute Mother."
"She would make a fine match with Christian."
"Hmm," I say under my breath, this time I get an idea.
Ana is standing by the open window with her hand extended to the falling rain. I clear my throat to alert her to my presence; she pivots to me in one swoop. Her eyes suddenly recognize my serious countenance, and she mirrors it precisely.
"Is everything alright, Elliot?" she probes searching my face.
"I have a proposition for you".
. . . . .
"Absolutely not" he fumes then downs his whiskey in one go. "You're lucky I don't punch you in the face, Elliot. If I need a woman, I'll find one on my own terms, and she'll be someone I can tolerate, I can't stand that woman."
"Why not," I ask quizzically, "Ana is beautiful, ambitious . ."
"The answer is no, Elliot, and I don't care if she's your fiancée's best friend. She's loud, disrespectful, confrontational-"
"Disrespectful, Christian, you showed up at the woman's residence uninvited, then proceeded to throw money at her. Do you think that was necessary, why didn't you let Andrea deal with this?"
"Because I wanted to handle this myself, you know I called her, and she dared to hang up on me during the conversation. Of course, she told you her side of the story. I bet she forgot the part when she tried to lunge at me with her razor-sharp teeth and claws. If wasn't for her neighbour I would have found myself in a disastrous conundrum. You have no idea what she's like; you just met her for Christ's sake"
"You're overreacting . . ."
"I don't care, you will not play matchmaker between that woman and me, if I need one, I can surely do better than her," he says, downing another glass of whiskey in his mouth.