The rich seam of humor that I could mine from this is endless.
I look forward to seeing you there, Mr. Grey.
A. x
Is this a reference to fifty shades?
Weird. Is she making fun of me?
Okay. Let’s have some fun with this.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Hazards
Date: June 10 2011 17:38
To: Anastasia Steele
Mining is a very, very dangerous occupation.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Let’s see what she makes of that.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Hazards?
Date: June 10 2011 17:40
To: Christian Grey
And your point is?
So obtuse, Anastasia? That’s not like you. But I don’t want to fight.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Merely…
Date: June 10 2011 17:42
To: Anastasia Steele
Making an observation, Miss Steele.
I’ll see you shortly.
Sooners rather than laters, baby.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Now that she’s been in contact, I relax and concentrate on the Kavanagh proposal. It’s good. I send it back to Fred and tell him to send it on to Kavanagh. Idly I speculate whether Kavanagh Media might be ripe for a takeover. It’s a thought. I wonder what Ros and Marco would say. I shelve the idea for now and head down to the lobby, texting Taylor to let him know where I’m meeting Ana.
50’S IS A SPORTS bar. It’s vaguely familiar, and I realize I’ve been here before with Elliot. But then Elliot is a jock, a real guy’s guy, who’s the life and soul of any party. This is his type of place, a shrine to team sports. I was too hotheaded to play on a team at any of my schools. I preferred more solitary pursuits like sculling and full-contact sports like kickboxing, where I could kick the shit out of someone…or have the shit kicked out of me.
Inside, it’s crowded with young office workers starting their weekends with a quick drink or five, and it takes me only two seconds to spot her by the bar.
Ana.
And he’s there. Hyde. Crowding her.
Asshole.
Her shoulders are tense. She’s obviously uncomfortable.
Fuck him.
With great effort I keep my walk casual, trying to maintain my cool. When I’m by her side, I drape my arm over her shoulder and pull her toward me, freeing her from his unwanted advances.
I kiss her, just behind her ear. “Hello, baby,” I whisper into her hair. She melts against me as the asshole stands taller, appraising me. I want to rip the “fuck you” expression off his rugged, smug face, but I deliberately ignore him to focus on my girl.
Hey, baby. Is this guy bothering you?
She beams at me. Eyes shining, lips moist, her hair cascading over her shoulders. She’s wearing the blue blouse that Taylor bought her, and it complements her eyes and skin. Leaning in, I kiss her. Her cheeks color, but she turns to the asshole who’s taken the hint and stepped back a little.
“Jack, this is Christian. Christian, Jack,” she says, waving between us.
“I’m the boyfriend,” I state, so there’s no confusion, and hold out my hand to Hyde.
See. I can play nice.
“I’m the boss,” he responds as we shake. His grip is tight, so I tighten mine.
Keep your hands off my girl.
“Ana did mention an ex-boyfriend,” he says, with a patronizing drawl.
“Well, no longer ex.” I give him a slight fuck-off smile. “Come on, baby, time to go.”
“Please, stay and join us for a drink,” Hyde says, emphasizing the word “us.”
“We have plans. Another time, perhaps.”
Like. Never.
I don’t trust him, and I want Ana far away from him. “Come,” I say when I take her hand.
“See you Monday,” she says as she tightens her fingers around mine. She’s addressing Hyde and an attractive woman, who must be one of her colleagues. At least Ana wasn’t on her own with him. The woman gives Ana a warm smile while Hyde scowls at us both. I sense his eyes boring into my back as we leave. But I don’t give a fuck.
Outside, Taylor is waiting in the Q7. I open the rear door for Ana.
“Why did that feel like a pissing contest?” she asks as she gets in.
Perceptive as ever, Miss Steele.
“Because it was,” I confirm, and close her door.
When I’m in the car, I reach for her hand because I want to touch her, and raise it to my lips. “Hi,” I whisper. She looks so good. The dark circles beneath her eyes have disappeared. She’s slept. She’s eaten. Her healthy glow has returned. From her bright smile, I’d say she’s brimming with happiness, and it washes over me.
“Hi,” she says, all breathy and suggestive. Damn, I want to jump her now—though I’m sure Taylor wouldn’t appreciate it if I did. I glance at him and his eyes dart to mine in the rearview mirror. He’s waiting for instruction.
Well, we’re doing this Ana’s way.
“What would you like to do this evening?” I ask.
“I thought you said we had plans.”
“Oh, I know what I’d like to do, Anastasia. I’m asking you what you want to do.”
Her smile widens into a salacious grin that speaks directly to my cock.
Hot damn.
“I see. So…begging it is, then. Do you want to beg at my place or yours?” I tease.
Her face shines with humor. “I think you’re being very presumptuous, Mr. Grey. But by way of a change, we could go to my apartment.” She bites down on her plump lower lip and peers at me through her dark lashes.
Fuck.
“Taylor, Miss Steele’s, please.” And hurry!
“Sir,” Taylor acknowledges, and he heads off into the traffic.
“So how has your day been?” I ask, and brush my thumb across her knuckles. Her breath hitches.
“Good. Yours?”
“Good, thank you.” Yes. Really good. I’ve done more work today than I’ve done all week. I kiss her hand, because I have her to thank for that. “You look lovely.”
“As do you.”
Oh, baby, it’s just a pretty face.
Speaking of pretty faces—“Your boss, Jack Hyde, is he good at his job?”
She frowns and the v I like to kiss forms above her nose. “Why? This isn’t about your pissing contest?”
“That man wants into your panties, Anastasia,” I warn her, trying to sound as neutral as possible. She looks shocked. Jesus, she’s so innocent. It was obvious to me and anyone who was paying attention at the bar.
“Well, he can want all he likes,” she says, her tone prim. “Why are we even having this conversation? You know I have no interest in him whatsoever. He’s just my boss.”
“That’s the point. He wants what’s mine. I need to know if he’s good at his job.” Because if not, I’ll fire his sorry ass.
She shrugs but looks down at her lap.
What? Has he tried something already?
She tells me she thinks he’s good at what he does, but she sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.
“Well, he’d better leave you alone, or he’ll find himself on his ass on the sidewalk.”