Sweetheart.
I don’t want that argument again. Saying nothing because a scene would be unseemly, I hand her my Mont Blanc so she can sign her name on the note.
Grace signals a couple of servers standing at the front of the pavilion and they pull back the canvas, revealing a picture-postcard view of Seattle and Meydenbauer Bay at dusk. It’s a great view, especially at this time of the evening, and I’m glad the weather has remained fine for my parents.
Ana gazes at the cityscape and its reflection in the water with delight.
And I examine it anew. It’s stunning. The darkening sky ablaze with the setting sun mirrored in the water, the lights of Seattle twinkling in the distance. Yeah. Stunning.
Seeing all this through Ana’s eyes is humbling. For years I’ve taken it for granted. I glance at my parents. My father clasps his wife’s hand as she laughs at something her friend says. The way he looks at her…the way she looks at him.
They love each other.
Still.
I shake my head. Is it weird that I’m having a strange and new appreciation for my upbringing?
I was lucky. Very lucky.
Our servers arrive, ten of them in total, and as one they present the table with our first course. Ana peeks at me from behind her mask.
“Hungry?”
“Very,” she replies, with serious intent.
Damn. All other thoughts evaporate as my body responds to her bold statement and I know she’s not referring to the food. My grandfather diverts her and I shift in my seat, trying to bring my body to heel.
The food is good.
But then it always is at my parents’ place.
I have never been hungry here.
I’m startled by the direction of my thoughts and I’m glad when Lance, my mother’s friend from college, engages me in a conversation about what GEH is developing.
I’m acutely aware of Ana’s eyes on me as Lance and I debate the economics of technology in the developing world.
“You can’t just give this technology away!” Lance scoffs.
“Why not? Ultimately, whose benefit is it for? As human beings, we all have to share finite space and resources on this planet. The smarter we are, the more efficiently we’ll use them.”
“Democratizing tech is not what I’d expect from someone like you.” Lance laughs.
Dude. You don’t know me very well.
Lance is engaging enough, but I’m distracted by the beautiful Miss Steele. She moves beside me as she listens to our conversation, and I know the kegel balls are having the desired effect.
Perhaps we should go to the boathouse.
My conversation with Lance is interrupted a few times by various business associates offering a handshake and the odd anecdote. I don’t know if they’re checking out Ana or trying to ingratiate themselves with me.
By the time dessert is served, I’m ready to leave.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Ana says suddenly, breathless. And I know she’s had enough.
“Do you need the powder room?” I ask.
She nods, and in her eyes I see a desperate plea.
“I’ll show you,” I offer.
She stands and I start to get up, but Mia stands, too. “No, Christian! You’re not taking Ana—I will.”
And before I can say anything, she grabs Ana’s hand.
Ana gives me an apologetic shrug and follows Mia out of the pavilion. Taylor signals that he’s on it and trails behind them both; I’m sure Ana is unaware of her shadow.
Fuck. I wanted to go with her.
My grandmother leans in to talk to me. “She’s delightful.”
“I know.”
“You look happy, dear.”
Do I? I thought I was sulking at a missed opportunity.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed.” She pats my hand; it’s an affectionate gesture, and for once I don’t withdraw from her touch.
Happy?
Me?
I test the word to see if it fits, and an unexpected warmth flares in my gut.
Yes. She makes me happy.
It’s a new feeling. I’ve never described myself in those terms.
I smile at my grandmother and squeeze her hand. “I think you’re right, Grandmother.”
Her eyes twinkle and she squeezes mine back. “You should bring her to the farm.”
“I should. I think she’d like that.”
Mia and Ana return to the pavilion, giggling. It’s a pleasure to watch them together and to witness my whole family embrace my girl. Even my grandmother has concluded that Ana makes me happy.
She’s not wrong.
As Ana takes her seat, she gives me a swift carnal look.
Ah. I mask my smile. I want to ask if she’s still wearing the kegel balls, but I presume she’s removed them. She’s done well to wear them this long. Taking Ana’s hand in mine, I give her a list of auction prizes.
I think Ana will enjoy this part of the evening—Seattle’s elite flashing their cash.
“You own property in Aspen?” she asks, and everyone at the table turns to look at her. I nod and put my finger to my lips.
“Do you have property elsewhere?” she whispers.
I nod. But I don’t want to disturb everyone at the table with conversation. This is the part of the evening when we raise a sizable sum for the charity.
As everyone applauds a sale price of $12,000 for a signed Mariners baseball bat, I lean over and say, “I’ll tell you later.”
She licks her lips and my earlier frustration returns. “I wanted to come with you.”
She shoots me a quick aggrieved look, which I think means that she’s of the same mind, but she settles down to listen to the bidding.
I watch her get caught up in the excitement of the auction, turning her head to see who’s bidding on what and applauding at the conclusion of each lot.
“And up next is a weekend stay in Aspen, Colorado. What are my starting bids, ladies and gentlemen, for this generous prize courtesy of Mr. Christian Grey?” There’s a smattering of applause and the master of ceremonies continues. “Do I hear five thousand dollars?”
The bidding begins.
I contemplate taking Ana to Aspen. I don’t even know if she skis. The thought of her on skis is unsettling. She’s not a coordinated dancer, so she might be a disaster on the slopes. I wouldn’t want her to get hurt.
“Twenty thousand dollars, we are bid. Going once, going twice,” the MC calls. Ana puts her hand up and calls.
“Twenty-four thousand dollars!”
And it’s like she’s kicked me in the solar plexus.
What. The. Fuck.
“Twenty-four thousand dollars, to the lovely lady in silver, going once, going twice. Sold!” the master of ceremonies declares, to rapturous applause. Everyone at our table gapes at her while my anger spirals out of control. That money was for her. Taking a deep breath, I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “I don’t know whether to worship at your feet or spank the living shit out of you,” I hiss in her ear.
“I’ll take option two, please,” she says quickly. Breathlessly.
What?
For a moment I’m confused, and then I realize the kegel balls have done their work. She’s needy, really needy, and my anger is forgotten. “Suffering, are you?” I whisper. “We’ll have to see what we can do about that.” I run my fingers along her jaw.
Make her wait, Grey.