Disclaimer: The original characters and original plot are the property of E.L. James. I'm just having a lil' fun. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 7 | Drunken Confab

STEEL

"HONEY! I'M HOME!"

Unfucking-fortunately

Hush. Do you wanna question her or not?

NOT! Rodriguez already told you "The Press" told him to call you. Instructions he eagerly followed, I might add.

Well, I wanna know why she did it.

Have I ever called you stupid before?

Not that I can remember, no.

Hmmm. First time for everything. Stupid!

FINE! You get no say in the conversation.

Sweetie, as long as you can speak, I have a voice. As long as you can think, I have a say.

I roll my eyes. Undeterred, I march to the living room. My progress halts when I see shopping bags have thrown up all over the floor. The culprit's not immediately visible, "Kate", I call into the air. She's so busy taking inventory of her haul and muttering to herself, she can't hear me.

Or, her selfish ass is ignoring you. Like she usually does.

I spot her butt sticking out from one of the piles. "KATE!"

She pops up like a Jack in the Box. It's hilarious. I hold my laughter because this is a serious matter. "Huh? What? Where's the fire, Steele? Oh, before I forget, here, this is for you. She hands me a huge shopping bag full of I dunno what. The confused look on my face urges her to explain. "We'll, with the Mogul gone and zipping his way around Taiwan, I figured you can get dressed up and shake your tail feathers around here." The smile on her face is unmistakable, it makes my heart drop. She didn't even wait for my reaction. She threw the bag my way, then returned to cataloging her stash.

I quietly set the bag on the floor, next to the numerous others. Deep down, I know the answer to this, regardless, I push on, "Kate."

"Hmmm?"

"I wanna talk to you about something. Would you please look at me."

She glances over her shoulder at me, her butt still in the air. In her 'bothered mom voice' she says, "Steel, can it wait? I've gotta figure out what I'm gonna wear tonight, especially with you in that little blue number. We're gonna be fightin' the guys off with a stick," that's all she would say to me before going back to her task, or so I thought. "Hey, did Jose call you? I told him you weren't doing anything today and he should ask you out, or at least come over here." If she had the decency to turn around and look at me, she'd see my horrified expression.

She admitted it! Then, my little voice speaks, "Why?" Something in the sound of my voice causes her to stand up straight and turn around to face me.

"Ana," 'bothered mom voice' again, "I want to you get out of this house and have some fun. You work from sunup to sundown, reading and editing those damn manuscripts the asshole put on you. You see the articles about the selfish bastard, and has he bothered to reply to any of your emails or text messages? I dunno if you call each other, but the next thing you know, he's gonna get tired and block you altogether. You need to unwind and ultimately learn to function without him. When's the hot security guy gonna stop chauffeuring you? I'm surprised he's hung around this long. Don't let the arrogant prick stick you with the bill for security you don't need."

I frown. I know 'selfish bastard and prick' are her references to Christian, but who's the asshole? "What asshole, Kate? You don't even know Mr. Roach. He gives us *all* assignments. It's my job. I need my job, so I can pull my weight with the bills in this place, or have you forgotten, I don't have a free ride?" I cross my arms over my chest. She's got nerve, bashing me for working.

She steps back a little, "The asshole is Grey. He took over SIP. You and I both know he's pushing the place to increase its bottom line, which means more work for the editors and their assistants, namely you. If you can't see that, it's no wonder you don't wanna get into business." She goes, once again, back to her chore.

"Jose crashed and burned and I'm putting you on notice. I'm not going out with you or anyone else." She's not even pretending to listen.

As I walk pass her, she fills me in on the company I'm to keep this evening, "Ethan will be here at about seven. Put your hair up, it'll show off those earrings I got you." I don't respond. I simply go back to my room, closing the door behind me, then return to my desk and organizing my notes for this piece of shit someone affectionately refers to as a book.

Pound… Pound… Pound… Pound… Pound…

"Ana! Are you ready? Ethan's gonna be here soon."

I fell asleep at my post. Kate walked by and banged on my door a few times before getting the message, 'Go away. I'm busy.' Now, I'm hungry and have no desire to cross paths with my roommate. Luke's right. If I can't be comfortable in my own home, what kind of home is it? I like this place, a lot. Our living room is bright and welcoming, and its balcony has a clear view of the Space Needle. I love seeing that thing lit up at night, like the beacon in a storm.

My kitchen is to die for, at least it is to me. I call it *my* kitchen because if Kate goes near anything but the Keurig, we'll hafta call the fire department. While it may not have Christian's chief's kitchen look, it's my haven, at least it used to be. Anymore I spend as much time away from the apartment as possible. Since you don't need a card to use resources at Central Library, I go there to read and work on notes for my real author's submission.

My bedroom, or my cage as Kate refers to it, is my only solace away from her Christian Grey Gazette reports. Seeing articles about Christian is her doing. She brings them home and practically throws them in my face. For someone who can't stand someone else, Kate focuses on Christian, a lot.

I distinctly remember a comment from her about a stalker.

You're correct.

When she's around, I even feel the walls close in on me. Every so often, it's all I can do not to run outta here screaming. I'm ripped from my thoughts by her incessant pounding on my bedroom door.

Pound… Pound… Pound… Pound… Pound…

"Steele! He's here! Let's GO!"

I sigh heavily, stomp to the door, then yank the thing open. Her eyes widen as she takes in my appearance. I'm still clad in leggings and an oversized Harvard sweatshirt, my hair in a messy bun, held in place with a pencil. I nabbed a couple of sweatshirts from Christian's room, at his parent's house a while back. It feels like a hug from him, even if he didn't finish. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere, Kate. You guys have a good time. I'll see you in the morning." Then I remember something, I haven't heard her say much about Elliott lately.

Go for it.

"Kate, are you staying with Elliott tonight? Tomorrow is dinner with his family after all." Her staying with him is a convenience, for the three of us.

Her stance changes, she straightens her back and snaps, "I'll be back here. Elliott's become a Christian Grey Groupie. I'm tired of hearing him and his family whine about Christian leaving without talking to anyone. I don't even know if I wanna be bothered with their dinner this week." Christian talked to me before leaving. I thought he talked to Grace too. Hmmm. "So, tonight I'm going out with Jose, my brother and a few of Ethan's frat brothers to dance and drink my cares away. We'll be at the Zig Zag and maybe crawl to a few more spots before making it home. Call me, if you change your mind." She turns on her heels and leaves.

Good! Bye!

After they're gone, I open my bedroom door and wander, freely, to the kitchen for a PB&J, a tall glass of ice-cold milk and the much-needed sound of nothing. Anyone else would be bored right now. Actually, it's barely quiet enough to think in this place. Kate's constantly blabbering about her job, her family, her hot and cold relationship with Elliott. If it's not about her, then she's trying to set me up on blind dates and pissing all over my relationship. I haven't known a moment of peace in a long time, so I'm in a good place right now.

After finishing my sandwich, I top off my milk before heading back to my copy. I've looked over four of these blasted things in the past week. My eyes are starting to cross, which is the universal signal for it's quittin' time. I'll type my notes and save them to the Cloud Lair tomorrow, then I'll be finished, ahead of schedule. Despite the workload we've been given, I've managed to submit my notes and comments early or at least on time. I think, subconsciously, I'm putting in overtime because of my upcoming performance review. The thought of that thing makes my stomach turn.

After another long day. I fret over my nighttime routine. As futile as it may seem, in what has become a ritual, I send, yet another, text to Christian. Until I see or hear differently, I'm not gonna stop trying to reach my fiancé. I love him and I know he loves me. He's just burying himself in GEH business, like I'm burying myself in SIP manuscripts. Although we're doing it for different reasons, I'm convinced that's the explanation for his muteness.

ARS: Hey baby hope ure not working 2 hard. how much longer will u b gon? Its sat pm here gimme a call wen u can. 143 XOXO

Send

I haven't bothered to figure out the time difference. I sleep with my phone right next to my head and while I'm usually a heavy sleeper, anymore, I wake at the slightest sound. A single tear slowly makes a trek down my cheek as I place the phone on my nightstand and turn out the light to go to bed. "I love you Christian."

Thump. Bump. CRASH!

OW! SHIT! What the fuck, Kate. What's all this shit? You told Dad to give you more time to pay the rent. Quit spending everything on shopping and you'll be good."

"Shhh! You're gonna wake up Ana and what the fuck do you know about it? Mind your own damn business."

"Who's Ana?"

"Kate's hot roommate, who's in love with a worthless bastard."

Not gonna, you did wake Ana. I recognize Kate's drunken slur, Ethan evidentially tripped over the shopping bags I refused to move. I'm not her clean-up crew. We'll definitely have a chat about her spending. I don't give her my money to shop. Ethan's the one who described me and Christian. Ethan can't talk, he's no angel. He's had some recent run-ins with drunk driving, and drugs too. I learned that from Kate.

I don't recognize the third voice. How do you show up at someone's home and not know who lives there? Kate said they were going out with some of Ethan's frat brothers. It's probably one of them. I try to ignore their drunken chit-chat and I'm pretty successful, until the shit starts.

"If he's a worthless bastard, why's she with him? I can tell she hot from the pictures Ethan has in his wallet. Truth be told, I thought Ethan was fucking her. Now you say there's some other asshole involved, what's the deal?" Why does Ethan have pictures of me in his wallet and exactly what pictures does Ethan have of me in his wallet? I'm not pleased at all with that revelation.

"Grey!" Kate and Ethan try to whisper shout, in unison.

"I thought she was going out with the construction gorilla. What kinda shit ya got goin' on Kavanagh?"

I don't know who he's talking to, until I hear Kate's voice, "Hey! He's mine. I don't share. She's putting up with Elliott's arrogant, bastard brother."

There's a dramatic second or two of silence, then another whisper shout, "Christian Grey?! She's fucking around with THE Christian Grey?! Wow. I always thought he was gay."

So did everyone else.

Quite frankly, my dear, I like it that way.

I get out of bed and grab my phone. Stepping into my slippers, I wrap my robe around me and walk to the doorway between our bedrooms and the kitchen area. I've got a bird's-eye view of the three people passing judgment. Four actually, Jose's with them, silently co-signing everything Kate and Ethan say. I'm not gonna hide, but I'm not gonna interrupt their pontificating about Christian and me. I wanna hear everything. Frat boy is almost immune since I dunno him and he's dragging the truth out of my 'friends'. No one ever goes into this much detail with me when they bash Christian. It's just 'he's a prick or a bastard or arrogant or no good for you'. The most recent addition to the crucify Christian campaign is 'we don't believe he feels the same way about you'.

While it hasn't been proven as scientific fact, I'm of the firm belief people speak their true mind when they're drunk. No filter. No inhibition. No fear of reparisal. People let it all hang out when they're two sheets to the wind. As Kate, Ethan and Jose spout their rhetoric, Frat boy keeps digging. By the way, who is the nosey fucker? I've never seen or heard of him before. "Is she after his money? I mean, I know she's your friend and all, but people are people. Do you think that's what she wants? Why else would she stick around and be mistreated?" Even if I was after Christian's money, which I'm not, what business is it of this guy or any of them? It's one thing to be invited or even dragged into a stormy relationship, it's another thing to poke your nose into a good relationship and try to stir up shit. My "friends" have been doing the latter since Christian showed up in my life. No one had anything to say when I was single. They didn't even wonder whether I was lonely or not. They just wanted to go drinking or piss and moan about their lives or drag me to a family feud. What's the big deal now?

The only "nice" thing my friends have to say is, "Fuck NO!" A little louder this time, but still no one looks my direction.

Kate picks up from there, "No Matthew, Ana's not interested in Mr. Bigshit's money. She's young, so…" Off she goes into what she believes is my relationship with Christian. I knew some of this, but the extent of her betrayal is astounding.

HOW FUCKING DARE SHE?!

I concur, but keep it down anyway. We need to hear them. All of them.

I listen and listen, while making a video of the conversation unfolding in front of me. No one's gonna be able to deny culpability when this is over. No one's gonna be able to blame Christian, either, since he's not in my living room and he's not on this continent. I'm on fire while they have their drunken confab, then they continue whatever merriment they brought home from the bar.

Saved on my phone is incontrovertible evidence of their true thoughts and feelings. Not, 'we don't believe he feels the same' or 'we don't want you to get hurt'. As bad as they talked about Christian, they looked down their noses at me too, insisting 'Ana's too naive to know what is and isn't right'. Jose jumped in with "This is the first man in her life, other than her dad, so she's starved for attention," like I have fucking daddy issues. Kate went so far as to tell this Matthew bastard, "She even gave him her virginity. I almost cried when I found out," while Jose wiped away a tear and sniffled. FUCKERS!

I quietly walk back to my bedroom and fight with myself not to slam the door shut. Wouldn't wanna bust up the festivities now, would I?

LINCOLN

"Second!" I call out from my office doorway, then turn around and walk back to stand in front of my desk, leaving the door ajar. When I turn back around, my Second is standing before me, head down, hands at his side, completely open to my command.

The gold-digging whore has driven my Pet from these shores, and I want him back. Isaac was able to install spyware and malware on Plain Jane's phone and computer. He created some type of 'Rule' to prevent Christian's emails from reaching her, he also jammed up her phone to silence Christian's text messages to her. I can see the communications coming into and out of or, rather, not coming into and out of her phone and email. I didn't understand exactly how Isaac did it and I don't care. All I know is, it works.

I'm sure to review the messages a couple of times each day, to find out my Pet's thoughts and feelings. What did I discover? Drivel! Absolute drivel! Drivel about love and missing each other with all their hearts and being together forever. His wanting her to join him overseas and describing the sights he's seen. Her wishing she'd gone with him and apologizing for pushing him away. The knife to my heart was his confession, "'I've never loved anyone before you and I'll never love anyone after you. My heart misses you baby."

Until the time when my Pet has returned, I need a back-up. "Come with me." I take Second's hand in mine and lead him to my bedroom. He's obviously surprised. I don't bring submissives into my personal space. I'm careful to keep them at arm's length. A behavior that cost me my Pet. This young man is my second chance. Everything I did wrong with my Pet, I will not do wrong with my Second. His name isn't meant to make him feel inferior, although I know it does. His name is a reminder to me.

Second doesn't know exactly who my Pet or the gold digging whore is. He only knows I took care of my Pet's needs and my Pet took care of mine, often and well. The unspoken competition, between Second and this 'specter', produces fabulous results. Second is my déjà vu. He's not innately rebellious, but he is frustrated at the situation with his parents, specifically his mother's behavior. What better way to release frustration than playtime?

"Disrobe, then lie in the middle of the bed, on your back." My darling sheds his t-shirt, jeans and boxer briefs, displaying his magnificent, naked body. You'd never know he was only fifteen by looking at him, especially naked. Tight pecs, sculptured abs, muscular arms and a distinct, sandy red-haired 'happy trail' from his navel to his cock. My mouth waters and my pussy tightens at the sight. Once in my bed, I take the sleeping mask from my dresser, "Nighty night, Little One. You may make sounds, but no words. If you do, I will stop and send you home. Safewords are ineffective here, but you will obey my commands. You may not release without permission, or playtime will end." His confirmation was stripping and getting into my bed.

When the sleep mask is in place, I summon Michelle and Rene to restrain Second's arms and legs to the four posts of my canopy bed. Once he's secure, I bid them to leave us, then I strip down to my Victoria Secrets black lace bra and panty set. I've had this scene on my mind all morning. The boy can handle a lot and his behavior is almost impeccable, so punishments have been few and far between for him. Like I said, all he needs is a woman's touch. Besides, I take my aggression, even my anger, out on my pain-whore, Isaac. Today, I'll test Second's stamina and ease the loneliness I feel from missing my favorite Pet. Now. Where was I? Oh, yes. I lay on my stomach, nestle between his strong, muscular thighs then, with no introduction, I dive in. Hmmm…

What a wonderful afternoon. There was even a tantalizing moment during playtime when I had to leave my Second, on the verge of release and restrained to the bed, of course. What could possibly pull me away from this luscious, nubile young man and his engorged cock? His mother called, "I've given him one last task, Vanessa. He's doing so well, but I can stop and send him home immediately, if you like." I won't like it and Second definitely won't like it, but Isaac is always eager to fill in when I need him.

"No, it's fine Elena. He has to contact his father for permission to use the New York penthouse. Cooper and I'll need a place to stay next weekend. Everett only allows his family to have access so, of course, I'll have to take Christopher with me. Humph." Can anyone pronounce superficial? "Keep him as long as you like. Put him to good use." If she only knew.

After spending a bit of time with her, I learned Second's mother has absolutely no say when it comes to her son. Vanessa has to play nice with her son and coerce him into hitting daddy up for whatever mommy's heart desires. Despite knowing the condition of her funding, Vanessa pays no mind to Second unless and until dadums is involved.

Second's father is your typical, Alpha Male. Handsome doesn't go far enough to describe this man. Almond shaped, deep blue eyes, full kissable lips and curly, ginger color hair with even brighter highlights. Women pay top dollar for a bottle job that doesn't turn out as good as his natural hair color. I only saw him in a suit, custom-made of course, but his ass is divine. His upper body and lower body are perfectly proportioned. I actually drooled. He'd be a natural Dom if he were into the lifestyle. Alas, he lives overseas, allowing Second's mother ample opportunity to be and do nothing for her son.

"Thank you, Vanessa. When I'm finished with him, I'll send him straight home." I ended the call, then went back to my task.

He lasted for three hours. I'm so sated, I could purr. I haven't felt this good since Christian was my submissive. At this point, I can honestly say, Second will be another masterpiece of mine. I want a weekend TPE with him, to see how far he can really go. I'll make up some excuse for his mother, she won't miss him. "Give your mother my thanks for letting me *use* you this afternoon." I smile, hoping he tells her those exact words.

His deep blue eyes sparkle, the only difference between him and my Pet. While the variation is unfortunate, grey eyes aren't a dealbreaker for me. Grateful for my approval, Second whispers, "Thank you, Mistress," before bidding me farewell.

FOOTNOTES

Pave paradise and put up a parking lot, Line from the song Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell; introduced on November 29, 1969

143, I love you