Chapter 8

Christian

Talking is a wonderful thing. We should really do it more often. Ever since we got everything out in the open, there's a new kind of closeness between us. Talking has led to Ana staying with me every day this week. If she says yes, it could be like this all the time. It's been such a welcome distraction from the reality that she's considering leaving the company just as I'm finalizing the details of moving them.

Until now, that is.

Her interview was scheduled for an hour ago and I haven't heard from her. I waited as long as I could before calling her, but her phone went straight to voicemail. Could the interview still be going on? She's a good editor with experience. How complicated can it be?

There's a knock at my door and Ros walks in unbidden. "I thought you'd want to know how it went at your favorite company."

"Was Ana there?" Is she ignoring me?

"What? I don't know. I talked to Roach. Why wouldn't she be at work?"

"She has an interview for a new position this afternoon."

"Oh. That explains why your panties are in a twist, then. Damn, just as you're about to move her where you can drool all over constantly, she's trying to leave."

"She might not leave," I snap.

"Well, do you want to hear how it went or not?" I lean back in my chair and wait for her to speak. "Roach was very disturbed to hear that anyone might be experiencing a hostile work environment. I can smell a bullshitter, and this seemed genuine. I informed him that we're going to heavily evaluate each staff member to ensure that they live up to GEH's code of conduct before the move, and I went over the code of conduct with him. He had no issues. The first step we decided on was an anonymous staff survey in everyone's inbox. Depending on the findings, that may result in discipline or terminations. He understood that it was a professionalism issue. He seemed more disappointed than anything. So, he's on board."

"Good."

"At first, I wondered why you were having me do this when it involved Ana, but I think I get it. You'd just fire anyone who was mean to your girlfriend. And she doesn't want special treatment. Am I right?"

"You're dismissed, Ros." I need to call Ana.

"Come on. I know what it's like to have a woman just waltz in and own your heart. It's not a bad thing. It means she's one of the good ones."

"I'm perfectly aware that she's one of the good ones. I just wish that the goodness in her soul didn't impede her so much from letting me help her," I mutter.

"Well, honestly, you're probably…" She pauses, rubbing her chin in thought. "A little bit of a lot."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I just mean her life versus yours is probably a bit of an adjustment for her." I sigh. Yeah, I know, that's one of the reasons why she won't move in with me. Or so she says. Maybe she's just letting me down easy. I shake my head. I can't think like that. "Just be patient, tiger. She obviously adores you. Welcome to love, it's a cakewalk full of challenges."

"You really are dismissed." I really need to call Ana.

"You really are an asshole," she practically sings back, but finally leaves. Remind me why I hired her? Because she's the best. Unfortunately.

I check my phone again for any calls or texts from her again. Nothing. No emails, either. This is so unlike her. And if the interview is running this long, that probably means they're hitting it off. And that's really not ideal for me. Truthfully, I don't know how I'm going to handle it if she does decide to leave. I'm not sure how kindly she'd take to me buying that company, too.

I pick up my desk phone and dial Roach's number. It only rings once. "Mr. Grey! What can I—"

"Is Anastasia back at work yet?"

"Uh, no, she isn't. She said she had an appointment and would be working late."

"Yes, I know. That's all, then." I hang up without waiting for a response, then pick up my cell phone and call Taylor.

"Sir."

"Contact Sawyer. I need an update on Anastasia."

"Yes, sir. I'll call back."

I get up and pace until he calls back, about thirty seconds later. That must be good news if it was a short phone call. "Yes?"

"Sawyer didn't answer, sir."

My heart rate spikes. "What the fuck does that mean? He's supposed to fucking answer."

"He may be indisposed. I'll try again in a moment."

"Why would he be indisposed?" I can feel my anxiety rising.

"I don't know, sir. But he has a way to send a distress signal if anything were seriously wrong."

"Find out where the fuck he is."

"Yes, sir." My girlfriend isn't at work. My girlfriend isn't answering her phone. My girlfriend's CPO isn't answering his phone. How the fuck am I supposed to focus on anything else? I try Ana again and get nothing, and I'm in the middle of writing her yet another text when Taylor calls back. "Sir, they're stopped on the street not far from here. They have been for quite some time."

"Traffic?"

"No unusual reports."

"Get the car, we're going." I hang up and then press the intercom. "Andrea, cancel everything this afternoon. I have to step out."

"Yes, sir," she responds.

Within five minutes, I'm sliding into the back seat of the Audi. "How far?"

"Less than a mile, sir. Google maps reports an accident."

Accident? No. No. No. My blood runs cold. What if she's...? No. I feel sick to my stomach. "Could it be—"

"They wouldn't still be on the scene if anyone were seriously injured, sir. We'll be there soon," he cuts me off and responds almost gently. Fuck, I'm losing it.

The few-minute car ride feels like the longest one of my life, and approaching their coordinates, we do run into a bit of traffic. "Can you see them yet?" I run both hands through my hair.

We inch forward a bit more. "Yes. They're up ahead. They're both out of the car."

Without answering, I open the car door and get out. A car honks at me. Fuck off. Sure enough, a few cars ahead, Ana is standing leaning against her car with a phone pressed to her ear. Her rear bumper is obviously damaged, metal bits scattered everywhere, and there's a pissed-off looking asshole next to the car behind her. Sawyer is standing between them, pinning the guy with a glare.

He fucking rear-ended my baby and I'm going to fucking kill him. "Ana!"

She jumps and looks up. "Christian? What are you—"

"Jesus Christ." I yank her against me, wrapping my arms around her like she's going to disappear.

She responds after a minute. "Hey, hey, it's okay. What are you doing here?"

I pull back and tilt her head up to me, inspecting her for injuries. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"Mine is dead, I'm using Sawyer's to call a tow truck."

"What the fuck happened?"

"Shhh!" she says, glancing to the guy by the car behind her. "My engine died." This fucking piece of shit car. I knew it wasn't safe. "We got rear-ended and this guy… Sawyer took care of it, but—"

I look to the side and the culprit is looking at us with disdain. Oh, hell fucking no. I move around Sawyer. "Are you fucking insane? Why can't you watch where you're fucking going?"

"Hey, who the fuck do you think you are?" he spits back.

You're about to find out. "I'm the fucking guy whose name is on the skyscraper three fucking blocks from here and the fucking guy whose girlfriend you hit. Were you texting, asshole? I'll fucking find out."

"Christian!" I hear Ana's voice and feel her yanking on my arm.

"If your bitch hadn't been stopped at a green light—"

"What the fuck did you just call her? I'll fucking end you—"

Suddenly, Taylor appears out of nowhere, stepping in between us. "Mr. Grey, the police are on their way."

"Christian, please," Ana says quietly.

I'm so furious, I see red. I close my eyes and focus on the feel of her hands clutching my arm. She's here. She's fine. When I open them, I'm only marginally more calm, but I at least have a handle on it. "Get a urine sample and test it for everything. Pull his phone records. I'm taking her home."

Taylor nods. "We'll take care of it."

"Mr. Grey," Sawyer speaks up. "Take her to the hospital, she might have whiplash."

I look down at her and she's giving him a look of betrayal. "I'm fine. Please just take me back to work."

"You are absolutely not going back to work today," I say, trying to maintain my composure. I take her hand and start to lead her back towards the car that Taylor abandoned.

"Where are we going?"

"We are going to the hospital, and then we are going home."

"We?"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight today."

"But you—"

"Do you have a headache?"

She grimaces. "A little one, but—"

"Hospital. Please don't argue. Jesus, I died a thousand deaths in the few minutes that I didn't know what was happening to you."

I open the passenger door. "Christian, I'm perfectly fine," she protests. "You can go to work."

"I can also not, and that's what's happening. Get in the car."

She sighs and climbs in. I shut it behind her and go around to the driver's seat. I can feel her looking at me while I wait for someone to let me back into traffic. "Are you okay?"

I scoff. "I should be asking you that."

"I didn't know you were worried. I thought you were busy at work. I was going to charge my phone and get in touch with you once I got back to work."

"I can't talk about this right now, Ana." My composure is tenuous at best right now, and I need to get her to the hospital in one piece. "We don't need another fucking accident today."

She sighs, but doesn't answer, staring ahead at the road. Talking had better work this time as well as it did last time, because I refuse to relive this day. Never again.

A few hours later, we step out of the elevator into Escala. Finally. Ana does not have indications of serious injury, but was advised to rest and take some pain relief for today. By some feat of divine intervention, she didn't argue.

"Advil or Tylenol?" I ask her.

"Advil," she says quietly.

"Go lay down. I'll be with you in a minute." She doesn't answer, and when I look where she had been standing, she's gone.

I sigh and my hands find their way into my hair. I'm being short with her, I know I am, but this day has taken years off my life. It's been a grim reminder of how separated I truly am from her. If she didn't want to leave, if she'd let me buy her a new car, if she lived with me and I could take her where she needed to go, today wouldn't have happened. Every day, something could happen to her, and my life would be over. As it is, I have almost no control over it. And that's eating at me like nothing ever has.

I grab the Advil and a glass of water and walk to my bedroom. She's laying facing away from the door. I come around and find her eyes closed, already asleep.

I kneel down and brush her hair out of her face as the disquiet within me recedes. My irreplaceable, darling girl. She must have needed this. I set the pills and the water on the bedside table, kiss her hair, and close the blinds. I'll leave her to rest for now.

After this, we need to talk.

I shut myself in my office for a few hours and work on the things I could have been working on earlier if I hadn't been going out of my mind, first wondering where she was, and then at the hospital wondering if we were going to find out that she was seriously injured. Now that she's not in imminent danger, I can put it out of my mind long enough to do what needs to be done.

I'm just starting to get hungry when I sense a presence in the doorway. Ana is leaning against the doorframe looking at me impassively. "You're awake."

She nods. "Thanks for leaving the pills." She rubs the back of her neck, looking down.

I close the laptop. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

I stand up, but don't go further yet. "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat."

She seems so… distant. Like she's closing in on herself. This isn't us. "What's going on in your head?"

"What?"

"Tell me what you're thinking about."

She sighs. "You really want to know?" I nod, though her response makes me nervous. "I'm wondering if you're still mad, if the anger was directed at me, and dealing the cognitive dissonance that you were so worried about me, but then spent the entire afternoon barely speaking to me. And I'm wondering where all of that leaves us, and who's going to take me home tonight since my car sure isn't and you don't seem keen on spending the night with me."

I'm stunned by her honesty, and then frustrated with myself for planting these thoughts in her head. "I'm livid, but not at you. At circumstance and at that asshole driver that could have harmed you. I was trying to deal with it without lashing out at you. I was too caught up in the moment and… feeling too many things at once. But I'm ready to talk now. Come back to me, baby. It's still us."

Her defensive stance softens, her arms that were folded over her chest dropping to her sides, and I take the opportunity to approach. I wrap my arms around her and pull her head gently against my chest. She melts into me. Thank God. "What do you want to talk about?" she murmurs.

"Well… for one, how was the interview?" Are you leaving me?

She shrugs. "It wasn't a match. The duties I'd have are a step down from what I do now." Is it wrong for me to feel a thrill at this? "You could at least pretend to be disappointed," she giggles.

I realize there's a smile on my face. Smooth. "I'm sorry that it was a waste of your time, but I'm not sorry that I get to keep you a little longer."

"How very honest of you. But I can live with that. Did you want dinner?"

"Mrs. Jones left something. I can heat it up."

We start to walk down the hall to the kitchen. "Why, Mr. Grey, I had no idea you were a chef."

"As I think you know, Miss Steele, I'm a man of many talents." She sits at the island and props her elbows up on the counter, resting her head in her hands, smiling at me while I put the food in the microwave. Her mood is buoyant enough, I think, to move onto the next topic. "Then next order of business… your car."

She sighs. "I know. I think she's breathed her last. I guess I have to see about getting a new one."

"Or…" She glances up. "Or you could let your boyfriend, who has an abundance of resources and very few to spoil them with, buy you one. Not because you need him to or would ever expect him to, but because he wants to."

She stares at me for a moment. I force my expression to be as aloof as hers. I'm not backing down on this one. "Why can't you just loan me a car you already own until I can get one of my own?"

"One, I want to be involved in the selection of the vehicle that my entire life is going to be using. Two, if I loaned you a car, that implies that you would give it back, and that wasn't my proposal. And three, the point is moot, because as far as I'm concerned, what's mine is yours anyway, so whether I bought or loaned you a car, it would be yours."

She laughs in surprise. "Christian, it's not like we're married. It just seems a little… grandiose to me."

She doesn't get it. "Well, to me, it seems like the bare minimum after the way I felt today. Do you have any idea what went through my mind when you didn't answer, and then the man entrusted with protecting you didn't answer? The fear?"

Her expression sobers, and she looks down. "I'm sorry. I got all your texts when I plugged my phone in. I had no idea you'd be so worried. I just… you just casually gave me a diamond necklace, and now you want to buy me a car. It's… a lot. You know I don't want anything from you."

"It was your birthday, and your car is history. And while I could easily give you both of those things for any occasion, just because I love you, I don't, because I know you don't want that." As much as it pains me. "But these circumstances are different. If I gave you a car, vetted and approved by me, that would be one less thing for me to worry about it regards to you. And believe me, I worry about it all. It would really be a favor to me."

She starts to chew on her lip, and I can tell I'm starting to wear her down. "What if I let you shop for cars with me?"

"We can shop for a car together, which I will pay for."

"What if we shop for a car together in my price range, but you get to vet the safety features?"

"What if we go to the dealerships I would shop at myself, you browse, and if you truly don't want any of those cars, then we can revisit this conversation? But you have to be honest. I know you like my R8, baby. Those are the kind of standards I have for you. Nothing but the best."

She drums her nails against the table. Come on. Say yes. Finally, she meets my eyes. "I'll look with you at somewhere you want. I promise nothing."

"Deal."

She lays her head on the table in defeat. "You're wasting your talents in the business world. You should have been a lawyer."

The microwave beeps, almost like it's signaling the end of round one. "Most things I don't care enough to argue this much for, but your safety is certainly one of them." I take out the two plates and set one of them in front of her. "And until you have a proper vehicle, I politely request to drive you to and from work."

She smirks. "Oh, do you? Politely?"

"I'm nothing if not a gentleman."

"Okay. Request granted."

I sit on the stool next to her. "Well then… it'll probably be easier if you stay with me for the time being. For the sake of the carpool."

She giggles. "The carpool. Of course."

I revel in the sound. "I couldn't live without that."

"Without what?"

"Hearing your laugh."

Her eyes widen at my tone, and she gently touches my cheek, leaning in to kiss me. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I'll always come back to you."

"In every life?"

She laughs again. "Every single one."

We kiss once more and then clink our forks together, moving onto lighter topics. This is how it should be every night, and if I have my way, it soon will be.

A/N: I feel more like a human today. GOD BLESS.

What do you think of how they handled this?