Go to sleep, baby, he whispers, and I lay my head on his lap and fall asleep.
I dream of a Christmas ball, where I am beautiful and grown up, dancing easily with Christian. They look at us with admiration and smiles. I literally feel the love and warmth from these people on my skin, and I feel incredibly good. My past is gone, my mother s pimp is gone, there is no fear or pain
Ana, we ve arrived, Gray s voice suddenly intrudes into my dream. I sigh and open my eyes.
You were smiling in your sleep, Gray notices, and I nod.
I dreamed of a ball, and we were dancing there. A real ball, like a king or some president, - I smile and awkwardly get out of the car. In front of us is a huge skyscraper, the sign on which reads "Trump Tower". I whistle.
- You can't stop yourself from living beautifully, Mr. Grey, - I giggle and take his hand.
- Oh, Miss Still, I've always lived in luxury, - Christian answers, and we go inside. Grey leads me to the reception desk, where a nice smiling old lady sits.
- Martha, this is Miss Still. I want her to have the keys to my penthouse, - Christian says imperiously. Martha nods in agreement and hands me the keys and the card for the elevator.
- What the fuck? Grey. This is my first and last time here, - I hiss, but in my heart I hope that this is not so. I want to come here again and again.
- But what if you want to come back here and make me pancakes again, - Christian smiles. Martha looks at us disapprovingly and shakes her head.
- What are you staring at? Do you want me to bite you, - I say, and she stops staring at me.
We walk to the elevators, and I notice that Grey is not letting go of my hand. He puts his card on the panel, and the elevator doors open. We walk inside, and I feel the sexual tension between us again. Fuck, fuck. Christian comes up to me and fixes a stray lock of hair.
- Breathe, Anastasia, - he whispers and I inhale - I will not fuck you in an elevator.
Liar... I see lust and desire in his eyes. I will not be me. If I do not go to bed with Christian Grey soon.
Lost in these thoughts, I don t notice how the elevator stops, and Christian and I find ourselves in a bright, spacious hall. The floor is covered with soft carpet, and there are fresh flowers everywhere. The Hall is dominated by soft tones of green and chocolate. On the walls are paintings by famous artists of different eras and movements. I hold my breath. It s as if I m in some prince s castle. Everything is very bright and beautiful. I look with admiration at the electric fireplace, opposite which there is a wide, long sofa.
Do you like it? Christian asks, taking off his coat. I smile like a fool and nod.
Want a tour? Christian carefully takes my hand and leads me to the top floor. He leads me to a wide double door and opens it with a light movement. The library A huge library, with a bunch of shelves, racks, and books. The pleasant smell of book ink hits my nose and I smile.
Have you read them all? I ask.
No, just some. Not enough time. By the way, I remembered that I promised you a book if you finish the quarter well, - Gray goes to one of the shelves and takes a book from it.
How does he know about my grades? A mystery. It seems that no one in the bar said a word about the results of my studies. Okay, I'll find out later.
- Here, Merry Christmas, - Christian puts a book in my hands, on the cover of which a sword is depicted, stuck into the pages.
- Is this a book about historical events? - I ask.
- Almost. Read it, I'm sure you'll like it. - Gray whispers tenderly and I nod.
We leave the library and go to the kitchen, which is located downstairs, near the stairs. The kitchen is fancy, all iron, steel and white sandstone. Christian looks at me slyly and nods at the table, on which lie eggs, milk, flour, yeast, mulled wine base and two bottles of wine.
Okay, first we ll make pancakes, I say and quickly gather my hair into a bun, Mr. Grey, you will be assisting.
Christian kisses me on the cheek and we start cooking. I soak the yeast, while Christian beats the eggs and milk. I take my phone out of my pocket, find a cheerful melody and turn it on at full volume. We chat cheerfully, discuss the news, the weather and share culinary tricks with each other. The kitchen is literally drowning in our laughter. Soon I start frying pancakes, and Grey dives into the refrigerator for maple syrup. I absolutely love working with him in tandem, and I always feel his support.
Who taught you to cook, Mr. Grey? I ask slyly, swaying my hips next to him.
I ll introduce you when the time comes, Anastasia. How about some mulled wine? Grey puts a saucepan on the stove and pours wine and mulled wine base into it.
I start dancing and Christian starts dancing with me.
What a turn of events! I hear a very masculine voice.
We immediately stop our dance and turn around. At the entrance to the kitchen stands an elderly, respectable gentleman, about seventy years old, with sharp, predatory features and cold blue eyes. He exudes power, just like Grey did in the Irish pub.
Clint! Christian beams and walks towards him. They shake hands, and it's clear that they are good friends.
"You, with a girl on Christmas morning. Have you finally decided to quit your bachelor life?" Clint pats Gray on the shoulder in a friendly manner.
"She's 18, Eastwood! We're just friends," Gray is awkward, clearly caught off guard.
"Friends... Hmm... It's weird to see you with a friend who's a girl. Friendship between a man and a woman is impossible, especially with such a beautiful one," Clint winks at me.
"I'm going to hit you now!" Gray mutters playfully, and I burst out laughing. Two respectable middle-aged businessmen, and they act like Jose and Jack.
"Clint, meet this brazen, sassy, ?and charming girl, Anastasia Still. She was interviewing me provocatively. Kissed me twice, and now she's making Mulled Wine with me, - Gray smiled at me, and I nod at him, - Anastasia, this is Clint Eastwood, my friend and business partner. Yes, in his youth he played hot cowboys in Westerns.
I extend my hand to him, and he shakes it. The handshake is firm, but at the same time very delicate. My God, I'm shaking the hand of a Hollywood movie star...
- Christian, there is news on... that case you entrusted to Alex. It needs to be discussed, - Eastwood says, removing his hand.
- Ana, I'm sorry, I need to work. I'll be back to you in about 40 minutes, don't be bored, - Gray kisses me tenderly, and he and Eastwood go upstairs.