Greetings, Dear Reader! I don't believe in trigger warnings, but please beware. If the mention of suicidal ideation is something you don't want to read, you should skip this chapter. I believe I have dealt with the topic as carefully as possible, but I don't want to take any chances with your gentle heart. Sending virtual hugs, P.
CHAPTER 10
Christian
He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast the previous day, but as hungry as he was, his first impulse upon arriving home was to jump in the shower. Everything about the facility had been clean, but he felt sweaty and grimy.
He could wash away the grunge, but there was no way to wash away the shame. That was something he'd have to bear forever.
He'd certainly not been given any special treatment in jail, having been assigned to a holding cell with a couple of scary looking offenders, one charged with rape and the other with heroin trafficking. He knew he'd done something terrible, so it was no surprise to him that he'd ended up in the company of other terrible people.
As he stepped out of the shower and began to dry off he remembered one of the questions from the intake officer. "Are you thinking about suicide?"
The question had startled him and took a moment to process.
"Well?" The officer prodded.
The truth was dark, but not wanting to end up in a psych facility for a 72 hour hold, he deflected. "You did just mention it, so how can I help but think about it?"
"That's not an answer," the officer had said, sighing with impatience.
"No, I'm not suicidal," he'd answered.
He wasn't used to getting much sleep, but it had been well past twenty-four hours since he'd gotten even one wink. He looked longingly at his bed, then turned back to his closet, knowing his father had arranged afternoon meetings. He decided on a suit. His first stop would be GEH to meet with Bailey and Nicholls, as well as his PR chief. Later in the afternoon he had an appointment for the paternity test.
Once dressed, he approached the kitchen, almost hoping Mrs. Jones wasn't there. From the beginning she'd always treated him warmly, but twenty-four hours ago that changed. He'd seen the disgust in her eyes when she'd realized he was a monster.
"Good morning, Mr. Grey. It's almost noon. Are you ready for lunch?" His housekeeper greeted him kindly, as if the events of the past twenty-four hours had never occurred. It was much more than he deserved.
"Turkey and provolone on rye, if we have it. And coffee, please."
"Yes, sir. Coming right up," she said. Reaching behind the breakfast bar, she found his phone and handed it to him. He'd left it behind when he'd been arrested. "Jason charged it for you."
"Thank you." While Mrs. Jones assembled his lunch, he opened the phone and found dozens of calls, some from numbers he didn't recognize. He answered Ros, Mia, and Elliot with texts, saying he would see them soon and explain everything. There were voice messages from Elena, which he promptly deleted.
He called Flynn's office for an appointment, but when he spoke to the receptionist, she said he was still out of the country with no expected date of return. Check back next week, she said.
He was at loose ends. He needed Flynn like never before.
The kitchen felt stuffy and overly warm, so he decided to open all the balcony doors and let in some cool air. The first set of doors wouldn't open, so he went deeper into the living area near his piano, but those doors were stuck as well.
"Mrs. Jones," he called. When she didn't answer, he went back into the kitchen area, where he found her slicing a fresh loaf of homemade bread. It smelled heavenly. "I can't open the balcony doors. Can you please call someone to fix them?"
"They have been fixed. Jason found someone to put special locks on the doors."
"Why?" He was quite irritated at the idea of employees changing up his home without his say-so.
"Sir, I know I'm overstepping bounds, but I need to say something." Gail placed his meal in front of him, arranging the place setting perfectly, just as she'd done hundreds of times before. "What you did yesterday was out of character for you and I'm sure you're full of regret. But please don't do anything rash. You've been out of sorts for several weeks now and when I was cleaning your special room I found the rope that you had rigged onto the carabiners." She shuddered at the thought. "If you fire me, so be it, but I removed the rope and cleaned out your medicine cabinet. The special locks impede access to the balconies. I've tried to remove anything that might be a danger to you."
"Fuck." He pounded the counter with his fist. "I don't pay you to act like a mom."
Her eyes welled with tears. He'd hurt her.
"Maybe not," she said. "But that doesn't take away my concern. If you were to leave this world, there are a lot of people who would miss you, especially that baby boy. You'd set a terrible precedent for him if you acted impulsively. Please go see that doctor of yours."
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. My doctor is currently unavailable, but I'll see him when he gets back into town." Her pained grimace was something he'd never seen before and he felt bad knowing he'd caused it.
"Good," she said. "We've been worried about you for some time now."
"I'm fine," he said. "Really."
They stared at each other for a beat, until Mrs. Jones broke the awkward silence.
"I'll be in the laundry room. Call if you need me."
Consumed with anxiety and intrusive thoughts, he ate the sandwich and downed the coffee without tasting either one. He wondered who was included in the "we" she'd mentioned. Taylor? The other CPOs? He didn't think he'd been acting any differently since Ana left him, but he'd been too preoccupied with his own troubles to care what others thought.
A panic attack overtook him as he realized GEH might be in jeopardy. By now the building would surely be abuzz with the news of their company founder's arrest. He worried that deals would be lost and employees might walk out. He'd fucked up in spectacular fashion.
"Sir, are you okay?" Taylor canted his head, as if trying to assess his boss's welfare. "We should leave now if you expect to be on time for your meeting."
Shaky and somewhat numb, Christian followed his CPO to the garage. He didn't remember the drive or the elevator or speaking to anyone along the way.
"Good morning, Mr. Grey." Andrea smiled sweetly, greeting him as if it were any other day. "Mr. Nicholls and Ms. Bailey are waiting for you in the executive conference room."
As he marched down the corridor, he tried to form some sort of reasoning for what had led to his arrest. Ros would have questions and she deserved an explanation. After all, she'd been with him since the company's early days.
As of late, their relationship had become somewhat fractious. Ros had called him out for being inattentive and disengaged. It was her idea to hire a CFO, and he had initially been resistant. He'd always believed GEH didn't need a chief financial officer, because he was the owner and understood numbers as well as anyone.
It had felt as if Ros might be trying to push him aside. But once she explained the advantages, he eventually accepted her proposal, and that was how Michael Nicholls came to be hired.
As a newly minted CPA, Nicholls had left university and been scooped up as an assistant to Warren Buffett. After a few years at Berkshire Hathaway, he left to form his own CPA firm in Chicago. As a side hustle, he got the idea for a payroll software and he partnered with a software developer to establish Payroll Certain, a highly successful product that could manage payroll, HR, time, tax, and benefits, for both small and large businesses.
When GEH was just a start-up, Ros had been introduced to Nicholls and his product. She brought the software back to GEH and they'd been using it ever since. Nicholls and his partner eventually sold their software startup and became instant billionaires. Last year Nicholls also sold his stake in the CPA firm, took an early retirement, and quickly became bored. It didn't take much convincing from Ros to lure him to GEH; he was ready for a new challenge.
Christian pushed open the door to the conference room to find his top two with coffee cups in hand, chatting about the Mariners.
"Good afternoon." Nicholls, ever the gentleman, greeted him with a kind smile and a nod.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Ros growled.
There she was, Ros in all her righteous glory.
Christian released a groan and flopped into the leather chair at the head of table.
"Well?" Ros prodded. "Tell us. Why?"
"Welch gave me some displeasing information. I lost my temper and went too far." He hoped these scant facts would satisfy Ros, but he was wrong.
"If you want to keep this ship from sinking, you need to tell us what happened before Sam gets here," she said. "You've got about fifteen minutes."
"Welch came to my office yesterday morning and told me that I was probably the father of a two-month-old. I reacted badly and wasn't thinking clearly. I drove to Montesano and took the baby from his home. The child's mother filed an Amber Alert and I've been charged with kidnapping. Is that enough information for you?"
He and Ros faced off, glaring at one another.
"Is the child yours?" Nicholls asked, probably trying to diffuse the tension.
"I'm scheduled for a paternity test later this afternoon, but it's a bit of a formality. I've every reason to believe he's my son."
"Congratulations," Nicholls said. "Children are a blessing."
"I guess so," he said. "But I don't really feel connected to him." This was the first personal conversation he'd ever had with Nicholls or Ros.
"Don't worry about that." Nicholls took off his glasses and used his tie to wipe the lenses. "The connection will come as you spend time with him. Mothers feel a deep bond right away, but sometimes it takes longer for dads."
"Good to know," he said. He was beginning to feel a need to provide for the child, but he was having difficulty imagining how to interact with him. Mia had been an older baby when he'd met her.
"Your father explained that he's confident you'll be able to stay out of prison," Nicholls said. "Sounds like your case might be wrapped up fairly quickly. Even so, Ros and I have discussed it and we think you should take a ninety day leave of absence. As COO, Ros is the natural fit to move into your shoes temporarily. If your case drags on or there are complications, the three of us can meet again to decide on another course of action. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like I'm being pushed aside and it feels like I'm being ass fucked," he gritted. "Did my father suggest this plan or did the two of you cook this up on your own?"
"Your dad had nothing to do with it," Ros answered. "I don't think you realize how badly you've screwed up. You really have no choice but to lie low for a while and trust us to keep everything afloat."
"Dammit, Ros." The words were a plea.
"Believe me, neither Michael nor I take any pleasure in this. You've been charged with a felony." She emphasized the last word and paused to let the weight of his transgression sink in. "There's all kinds of speculation about why you'd kidnap some woman's infant. If the paternity test results come back positive, that will help folks understand your thinking, like maybe you were missing your child. But right now, the court of public opinion has branded you some kind of sick pervert. The stories on social media are too wild to dignify with a response. This is bad, Christian. Really, really bad."
"What the actual fuck." A pervert? He couldn't believe it. "How could anyone think I'd hurt a baby, especially in a warped, deviant way?"
But you did hurt him. You inflicted misery. You took him away from his mother.
"Until we can release irrefutable facts, this story will take on a life of its own," Nicholls said. "Sounds like your dad is on top of it, working to smooth things out as quickly as possible. Please know that all of this is in your best interests."
Christian scrubbed his face and stared at the ceiling. He considered his options and had to admit that he had none.
Ros and Michael exchanged looks of concern as they awaited his agreement.
As much as he hated the idea, he understood a leave of absence would be the right course of action. Neither Ros nor Michael could ever have his level of passion for the company, but he knew the duo could operate well without him. GEH would be in safe hands. There was no point in fighting it.
"It fucking sucks," he said. "But I understand why it needs to happen. Will you keep me in the loop on the big things? I don't want to feel like an outsider when I return."
"Of course," Nicholls said. "Ros told me you've been going full tilt for over seven years. You need a break."
"One of the great things about GEH is the generous parental leave plan," Ros said. "Consider yourself on paternity leave. And you could act a little happier about becoming a father. Gwen and I both have fertility problems and we'd give anything to have a baby."
"I'm sorry," he told her, surprised by the nugget of personal information. "I hope it works out for you."
"Just be grateful for what you have," she said, echoing what his father had told him. "Some other schmuck always has it worse."
"Please don't worry about a thing," Nicholls said. "Just get rested up. Ros and I are committed to doing what's right for you and for GEH. If we're finished hashing out the basics, I'll pull Sam in and you can talk PR."
When Nicholls left the room, Ros moved her chair closer. "I'm sorry if I'm harsh, but this is serious shit. Promise me you'll get well. We're friends, dammit, and I care about you."
He could see the sincerity in her eyes. Her depth of feeling surprised him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Grey," Sam said. He had entered the room alone. "Mr. Nicholls had to take care of something in accounting. He'll be along shortly."
"What's your plan?" Christian asked. As much as he hadn't enjoyed discussing personal matters with Bailey and Nicholls, he loathed the idea of getting into it with Sam.
"As your public relations rep, it's my job to work with your legal counsel to make sure both teams are on the same page. Your father has explained the basics of your case. He suggested we give Kavanagh Media an exclusive, then release to the general public."
"An exclusive… What does that mean? I can see how offering Kavanagh Media first crack makes sense. They'll give fair coverage. Not necessarily sympathetic coverage, but definitely fair. However, I absolutely will not give an interview."
He knew Katherine Kavanagh disliked him and the feeling was mutual. He had no interest in a public roasting.
"An interview during an ongoing criminal matter would be inadvisable. I'm talking about a crisis management statement. Something that acknowledges you were arrested yesterday and letting the public know that they shouldn't draw conclusions until the facts can be revealed."
"Mr. Grey is taking a leave of absence during the proceedings and will return once the case is resolved," Ros said. "It's important for employees and affiliates to know that this is temporary."
"I'll certainly add that information," Sam said. "I propose a statement for Kavanagh Media, then an hour or so later we'll send a company wide email, and finally, a few hours after that, a global statement via the wire services. But first I'll run all of it past your father."
"That sounds fine," Christian said.
As Sam left, Nicholls reentered the room.
"Before you leave I want you to know that Ros and I are here for you." Ros nodded in agreement as Nicholls spoke. "Anytime you want to talk, no matter the subject matter or time of day, please feel free to call. And in turn, we'll call you with updates."
"Thank you," Christian said.
He walked back to his office, trying to take it all in. What would he do all day without his work? GEH had been his baby, but now he'd been sidelined, and all because of the new baby in his life.
He felt cornered. He wanted to punch something or someone.
He thought about how much he needed Ana and how much he missed what they'd had. It had been so brief, but so perfect. He flopped onto a white leather couch and tried to comfort himself with memories of her scent and her warm, soft flesh.
If only…
The jarring buzz of his phone alerted him to a text.
Elena.
I'm the one who can pull you out of this mess. Call.
He laughed out loud.
Bitch, haven't you done enough?
She had been his only friend, but in recent weeks he'd all but cut her off. Since cooling things with her, he felt lighter, in both good ways and bad. He was unburdened by her overbearing, manipulative, duplicitous ways, but he also felt an acute loneliness. She had been his only confidant and now he had no one.
Looking out the window of his office, he considered the empire he'd built and all that he might lose. None of it had meaning without Ana. Her rejection had left him rudderless. With no hope of a future with her, what was the point of it all?
His phone rang and he dropped his head in defeat when he saw it was his father.
"Hey," he answered.
"Hello, son. How did it go with your team?"
"Bailey and Nicholls are taking the reins while I take a ninety day leave of absence. We hammered out a press release with Sam. I'm still here, just trying to decide what to bring home with me for the next three months."
"A leave of absence seems wise. How do you feel about the plan?"
"I'm okay with it." It's not like he had choices. He'd fucked up and now he had to pay the price.
"Good. I'm on my way to the office. Your mother and I just enjoyed a wonderful lunch with Ana and Kit."
He didn't like the idea of Ana being alone with his parents. And Ana should know better. It was in the NDA. It didn't seem fair that she could flagrantly violate the NDA while setting down rules of her own, telling him not to come around without proof of therapy.
"That's nice," he said through clenched jaw. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the squeezie ball that Flynn had given him.
"It really was nice. Ana is a very bright young woman and completely devoted to Kit. Your mother and I are absolutely delighted at becoming overnight grandparents. Frankly we're quite relieved at how things turned out. If you had to get a woman pregnant without benefit of marriage, you chose well. Or maybe you just got lucky."
"Gee, Dad, thanks for the backhanded compliment." He felt as if he'd never be able to please his father.
"I meant nothing untoward. Suffice it to say, we like Ana. She has very kindly invited us to have supervised visitation with Kit, so we're going to Montesano on Saturday to spend a few hours with him in her home."
"That's nice," he said once again, closing and opening his hand around the foam sphere. It wasn't doing its job, however, because he still had the urge to break something.
"By the way, your mother asked Ana why she never told you about her pregnancy. We were shocked to learn that the NDA had a provision precluding her from contacting you if the two of you broke things off. Did she understand that correctly?"
Shit. Why can't Ana keep her mouth shut?
"Yes," he said, hoping she hadn't said anything about 'Mrs. Robinson.'
"And was she also forbidden contact with any members of your family? She believes she violated the NDA by meeting us for lunch today."
"Correct," he huffed. "She's absolutely in violation." If not for the No Contact Order, he'd be in Ana's face, sharing his fury.
"That NDA isn't worth the paper you use to wipe your ass. As soon as you breached your own standards and stepped foot on Ray Steele's lawn, you nullified that document. You can't ask someone for no contact and then turn around and contact them. If you try to enforce that NDA, you won't get anywhere."
Christian's blood boiled at the thought of Ana calling him out to his own parents.
"I guess you all enjoyed a good laugh," he said.
"It wasn't like that. In the spirit of generosity and goodwill, you should release her from that phony document."
"You'd love that, wouldn't you? That way you can squeeze more information from her." He'd raised his voice so much that he half expected Taylor to stick his face through the door to check on him.
"As much as I'd like to know her objections to us spending time alone with Kit, she doesn't seem inclined to share any of that. I'm telling you all this, because we don't need more secrets in this family. Telling Ana the NDA is void is the right thing for you to do. We'll be in Montesano on Saturday, but your mother expects you at brunch on Sunday. You haven't been to the house since Christmas. In case you haven't noticed, it's April."
He couldn't wait to end the conversation.
"Tell Mom I'll try to make it. Thanks for the call." He was so angry at his father that he didn't bother saying goodbye.
His life had completely gone to shit. He was desperately alone and adrift.
He wanted Ana, but she didn't want him.
Deciding he couldn't wait until Flynn's return to Seattle, he brought up Flynn's cell number and pushed send. When Flynn answered the call, he seemed distant, and not just geographically.
"What can I do for you?" Flynn asked. "I don't have much time."
"A lot has happened since you left for England. It's hard to explain."
"Just give me the facts," Flynn said curtly.
He didn't want to have this conversation over the phone, but he felt his situation warranted urgency. The only way to see Ana was under the pretext of seeing their son. She had demanded proof that he was currently under treatment or no visits.
"Well, uh… Do you remember that girl I was seeing? Ana. Anastasia Steele."
"Of course. The one you tried to turn into a submissive. What about her?"
"She had a baby. My baby. A boy."
Silence. He'd finally rendered John Flynn speechless.
"Are you still there?" Christian asked.
"Yes." Flynn had at last found words. "Congratulations."
"Thanks. The kid is eight weeks old. She won't let me see him unless I get something in writing from you saying I'm receiving treatment. I need an affidavit, as soon as possible. Can you fax it or email it or something?"
"Wow. Seems every time I head off for England, your life takes a dramatic turn. A child… That's huge. How do you feel about that?"
"I don't have much choice, do I? I just have to deal. I don't want to discuss this right now. I really need you to send that affidavit."
"You called the wrong person." Flynn was irritated and couldn't be bothered to hide it. "As the child's father, you have visitation rights. You shouldn't need a statement from me. Get your attorney involved. Why is she throwing up impediments to you visiting your son? Why are you just now discovering you're a father?"
"I'm not exactly sure," Christian lied to Flynn. He was ashamed and didn't want to get into it over the phone. "I learned about the baby from my head of security."
"How you discovered the child's existence has nothing to do with you not having visitation rights. What you're telling me doesn't sound right."
Why all the damn questions? Just give me my affidavit and let it go.
"When I found out, I was surprised and angry. It pissed me off so much that I went to her house and took the baby from his crib while he was sleeping. I was hot-headed and realize now that it was the wrong thing to do."
There was another long silence on Flynn's end.
"Are you telling me you broke into her home and kidnapped her child?" He could hear the incredulity in Flynn's voice.
"Yes." He knew his actions were indefensible, so there was no need to say more.
"Are you still walking around a free man? And if so, how?" He was unaccustomed to such a disdainful tone from Flynn. It was a side of his therapist he'd never heard. "Try for one moment and imagine the terror and trauma at finding her child missing."
The last thing he expected from his therapist was a reprimanding lecture.
"I was wrong. I know that. Can we talk about this when you return? I really need that affidavit."
Dammit. For all the money he paid Flynn, why couldn't the man honor his request?
"You want me to put my professional reputation on the line and sign a statement that you're under current treatment?"
"Yes, and I need it as soon as possible."
"No."
Had he heard correctly? Did his therapist tell him no?
"But, John, be reasonable. I know I've missed some appointments, but work keeps me so tied up. And…"
Flynn cut him off.
"Tied up, eh?" Flynn chuckled. "Interesting turn of phrase. I've been seeing you for almost three years. But during that entire time, you've barely gone through the motions, never committing yourself to the process. You're intelligent and generous, but in turn you're also entitled and petulant. Tell me… did you seek therapy because you want to improve your life or because you want to please your parents?"
He was stunned by Flynn's adversarial tone.
"Of course I want to improve." Just as he had in every therapy session, he was bullshitting his way through their exchange. "Maybe it's partly for my parents, but I do want to get better."
"I don't believe you," Flynn said. "You have no intention of putting in the work to build a fulfilling life. Frankly I'm tired of competing with Mrs. Lincoln for your headspace. For the past thirteen years she has played Iago to your Othello, dripping poison in your ear. I'm throwing in the towel and naming her the victor. I am no match for that harridan. You don't want to get better, because you won't untether yourself from your abuser. Until you rid yourself of Mrs. Lincoln, you'll never find peace.
"And do feel free to report me to the medical board for unprofessional behavior. Right now I'm with my brothers. We're three shots in and about to down a fourth. Our mother died this morning." Flynn released a choked sob. "I wish you well, Christian, but for a long while, I've thought perhaps you need something different from what I have to offer. Consider this my resignation."
With that, John Flynn hung up on him. Christian was stunned.
What the fuck just happened?
Perhaps the good doctor was speaking impulsively, overwhelmed by loss. Maybe the alcohol, the intrusion of Christian's call, combined with grief had pushed Flynn over the edge, spurring him to say things he'd always wanted to say, but previously hadn't dared.
Christian supposed the reason really didn't matter. For a moment he considered calling him back, but the timing didn't feel right. From personal experience he knew the loss of one's mother was deep and painful.
Despite his resentment of Grace's shortcomings, he felt a sudden surge of gratitude for her. After all, she and Carrick had taken him in. They'd shortchanged him, but what they'd given him was surely superior to a string of foster homes.
He knew the correct thing, etiquette wise, was to send flowers to Flynn. He texted Welch with instructions to dig up Flynn's location and the funeral particulars, then texted Andrea about getting the address from Welch and ordering flowers for the funeral.
As he paced the floor of his study, he realized he was actually going to miss his sessions with Flynn. He had to acknowledge that some of the accusations were true.
He had sleep-walked through most of the therapy appointments, trying to steer the conversation toward anything but Elena.
Across the desk from him was the white leather chair that Ana had occupied during her interview. That day, May 9, changed him forever. It was the day when all his thoughts had become centered on her. He was utterly consumed with her. She had become more important than anyone or anything, even GEH.
Sunlight from the nearby window bounced off the plexiglass that encased the glider. It was the most wonderful gift he'd ever received.
He texted Andrea and asked her to enter his office.
"Yes, sir?" She had her iPad ready to make notes
"Did you get my message regarding flowers to be ordered for a funeral in England?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I'm taking a ninety day leave of absence. During that time I want you and Olivia to take some time off as well. Only one of you needs to be here at any given time. I'll leave it to you to design a schedule. Run it by Ros. While I'm away, you'll report to her."
Andrea's eyes went wide in surprise.
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate the time off. I know Olivia will be happy as well."
"Today is the first day of my leave of absence. Since I won't be back for a while, I'd like you to pack up this glider and have it delivered to my home."
"Yes, sir. I'll take care of it today. I hope all goes well for you. Good luck." Andrea gave him a weak smile and marched back out to her station.
Christian picked up his laptop, took a deep breath, and with one last look around the room, he turned off the lights.
Hello, Gentle Reader! I hope this finds you enjoying a wonderful weekend.
I extend big thanks to Carol222 and nikkistew2 for their generous story consultations. Their input has been invaluable.
FF Net has been misbehaving, so I've been holding out on an update. I feel as if I'm taking a chance by posting this, so please let me know if you're able to find and read this chapter.
Many thanks to all for sticking with me!
All the best, Paula