My dear little broccolis💚💚💚
💚 So, this story is dedicated to two particular authors with whom I have briefly touched on those issues, and who make amazing stories. paleseptember10 & Krooela. Go check them out, you won't regret it.
💚I never could wrap my mind around the fact that an English literature major could miss any sort of sexual innuendos! I mean, you literally study the ways authors like Shakespeare, the Brontë & co's hid all their sexual frustrations in those books. If anything, she should have been the one making all the sex references and Christian should have been the one clueless. But anyway, this Ana won't be like that.
💚 Fallen Angel💚
How would have Christian Grey's life turned out if the Greys had intervened when Elena tried to sink her claws into him? Would he still be the same man as we know, or someone completely different ...
‼️Rated M - {Out Of Characters/All Human/Alternate Universe}‼️
‼️Romance/Angst/Drama/Lemons‼️
‼️AS/CG/The Greys/The Steeles/Jack Hyde/Elena Lincoln‼️
Chapter 4: Faith (2,2K)
Christian's Pov
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
When I get back to my office, Miss Kavanagh is waiting for me in the lobby, which isn't surprising. I did spend more time than expected in that coffee shop. Let's hope it wasn't for nothing, and that she genuinely gave me her number.
Miss Kavanagh's interview is, as I expected, boring as fuck. Same generic questions I get asked over and over again. Though I have to appreciate that she didn't try to pry into my personal life as many other interviewers did. No questions about my family or my adoption, and no question about my sexuality either.
It has become a running joke back home every time someone mentions the possibility that I might be gay since I never had a girl on my side. Elliott and Mia even hold this whole album with articles extracts every time someone wonders about my sexuality. That, and the many time someone asks them or my parents during a social event or a fundraiser.
But anyway, I do appreciate that Miss Kavanagh understands that my personal life has nothing to do with how I run my business. I did notice that she skipped a few questions, but I'm not going to try and prolong this useless interview more than necessary. Especially knowing that I have to be at her Uni in a couple of weeks, as the keynote speaker. How did that happen when I have never graduated in the first place, and even less from this university? You'll have to ask my PR. Something about good-press, or something.
Finally, she shuts down the recorder, and as she puts her stuff back in her bag, she looks back at me, her green eyes shining with determination, "Next time I will interview you, Mr Grey, I won't be muzzled by the school paper."
This makes me smirk because for a brief second, I can see myself in her. I understand now that she only played safe because her school paper told her to, and she wanted to ask more poignant questions that probably weren't green-lighted by the school. I idly wonder if the gay question is in the mix.
So I decide to be polite and to walk her to the elevator, instead of just dismissing her. As we walk out of the office, I ask her about her future projects, wondering if the brief fire I saw in her eyes was a figment of my imagination, or if it actually exists,
"I suppose that I am going to see more of you. I've heard from your father that you're going to follow in his footsteps."
Joseph Kavanagh owns another media company, that almost went out of business during the recession until I bought it out of its debts. Since Kavanagh actually mentored me on many things concerning media companies, I gifted him the major shares of his company, but I still own 49% of it. And that's how I ended up doing an interview for his daughter and her university.
Miss Kavanagh plays with her necklace (a ring around a golden lace), and she tells me with a grimace,
"I don't really have a choice, now, do I? How many people can brag about having a job lined up for them, fresh out of college?"
"You don't want to work with your Dad?"
She glances at the elevator doors, still closed, and says, her grimace still on, "I didn't study journalism to become a journalist. It's too easy and … I like a challenge. But … I guess I shouldn't be bratty and accept the role I've been given, even if I don't necessarily like celebrity gossip."
I nod, and when the doors open, she turns to me with a bright smile, resolve to let her little slip of discontentment behind her, "Thank you again, Mr Grey. I'm sure the paper will deeply appreciate your time into this."
I turn on my heels and ask Andrea to get me my PR on the line. I might not be much of a people person, but I do recognise someone unhappy with the route their parents have traced for her. And since I've had the luck to have Eric on my way, I'd like to repay the favour to the universe.
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
Shortly after I finished my conversation with Marshall from PR (who actually has an opening and is looking for fresh blood) I look at the number Stacie gave me. I'm tempted to call to cash in that coffee she owes me and turn it into lunch, but then Andrea reminds me that I am actually booked for the day.
Today is a day where lunch only exists in the form of a meeting with associates. Sometimes Ros, my second in command, skips the meal altogether, but I am not a crazy person. Actually, I am a very sane person who makes sure to eat enough every day.
I used to get proper mad at Mia when she was in her stupid 'skinny-faze' and she would skip meals to stay at a certain weight. We had quite a few huge fights until Martha made me admit to myself that I couldn't project my food issues onto other people.
It's just that I know what it's like to literally feel your stomach shrink, and … yeah, who wants to feel that? Of course, Martha, always having solutions to all my fucked-up issues suggested that I take cooking lessons. Grace did try when I was still a young kid but quickly stopped because of the touching issue. I was too young for her to trust me with a knife without showing me and too stubborn to understand that she needed to mother me.
For a few years, this used to be Grace's and my thing. We would go to cooking lessons together, and she forbade anyone to crash on her fun. I don't complain, I get that. It was our time together. And it did get us closer. And now, we do have those amazing cooking skills in common. Not to brag, but I'm a fucking amazing cook, though it doesn't stop me from having Mrs Jones, my housekeeper, cook for me. I just don't have the time.
After the lunch meeting, I decide to test the number and make sure I won't get some angry father on the other end and I send Stacie a quick text.
Hoping that you got home okay and in one piece, without any creeps ogling you. Keep in mind that, for every creep you encountered, I will owe you a drink. ~ Christian (don't put me in your contacts as Serial Killer!)
During the whole day, I checked my personal phone more than I usually do, but no answers from her. Which means, either she gave me a fake number and I just made a fool out of myself, or she decided that the best offence was to ignore me. Which … I thought she enjoyed the banter, but maybe I read the signs wrong.
I go on with my day, as usual, just making Andrea cancel on Martha for this week, though I'm sure she's expecting it. I just came back from Taiwan, and the jet lag is finally catching up. Usually, when I come back from the other side of the globe, I either cancel or reschedule, but since I don't have much to tell her, it's the latter.
Once home, I lock myself for an hour in the boxing room I built in my apartment. It's my favourite part of the day, and I know that it's also my employees' favourite part of the day, even if they don't know it. I've been boxing on a daily basis for the past thirteen years, and it's channelling all my anger there.
So when during the day I hear some fucking shitty idea, or I see some dumb shit, I internalise it, and let it all out against the bag. It's really … therapeutic as Martha would say. But as a result, none of my employees ever heard me raise my voice at them. I have the same eerie calm as Eric, though my employees know better than to fuck with me. I may be calm, but I'm ruthless.
After this relaxing session of boxing everything out on a beanbag and a hot shower, I go to the kitchen, happy to find as per usual that Mrs Jones has already cooked me something. I love that I don't have to tell her anything, after three years, she's learned my habits and knows what to do.
I'm in the middle of eating and emailing my partners in Taiwan when I receive a ping on my personal phone. I briefly glanced at it, mostly expecting Elliott to ask for a drink, even though it's rather late. But I smile when I see that it's "Stacie". We all know this is a fake name.
I registered you as Handsome Serial Killer. How about that? And … if I get a drink for creeps ogling me, what do I get when they actually harass me? ~ Stacie
I pale … Is she making a joke? Is this her idea of a joke?! What if she was actually harassed? Or assaulted? Man, I knew I should have insisted to take her shopping for new clothes!
You weren't harassed, were you? Nor attacked? ~ Christian
Well, in all honesty, I was attacked this morning by this maniac that made me spill my tea all over me. But otherwise, I'm pretty good. ~ Stacie
I sigh with relief. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that I might have found that funny in person, but by text … not so funny. But I decide to not bounce on that. Let's try to get real information out of her.
So, you're still going with that fake name? ~ Christian
Your name could be fake! What do I know? Christian sounds a little too pure for a handsome serial killer if you ask me. Smells like a trap all over the place. 😒😒😒 ~ Stacie
This makes me burst into laughter. I'll have to make sure to tell Elliott about this at some point, I know he'll love it. But still, I notice that she really has no idea of who I am. Which is good, I guess. Elliott and Mia do complain a lot that it's hard to know who's after their wealth, and who just wants to hang out with them.
What do I have to do to get your real name, then? Christian
I don't know … Wait for more than 24h. You know, so I can think about your level of sociopathy and see if I can deal with it. Just a thought. ~ Stacie
Once again, I laugh at my screen. Yeah, Elliott would definitely get along with her. They have the same sense of buddy humour.
Okay. I'll ask tomorrow, then. At 10:30. ~ Christian
Dude … how old are you? This is some 5yo level XD. ~ Stacie
I'll act my age when you'll answer straight to my questions. ~ Christian
But did you even ask me any real questions? I mean, besides that one time you asked about your attack on my tea and my top? ~ Stacie
I scroll back up, reading through our messages, and I do see that the only time I actually asked a question, was when I asked if she has been harassed or attacked. Is she a lawyer in the making? What other kinds of person pays attention to those minute details?
What's your name, then? ~ Christian
Rose.
💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚
💚 So we met Kate as well. Kate will be a tad different from who she is in the books.
💚 And yes, Christian gets along very well with his family that he has running jokes with them. They know why he doesn't date, and that will be explained in the next chapter ... I think (or the one after). ALSO, the cooking was something important for me. I can't understand how someone who suffered from food deprivation doesn't know how to cook even the most basic of foods. It's literally survival instinct at this point. But once again, that's me.
💚Well, let me know what you thought of this chapter. What was your favourite part? What do you think will happen next?
💚 E L James owns the names of the characters from the Fifty Shades franchise, Everything else is mine (including the mistakes and grammar errors).
Love, Mina 💚💚💚