My blood runs cold. “Has he tried anything?”
She shakes her head. “No, and he won’t, Christian. I told him today that I’m your girlfriend, and he backed right off.”
“You’re sure? I could fire the fucker.”
He’s history. I want him out.
Ana sighs. “You really have to let me fight my own battles. You can’t constantly second-guess me and try to protect me. It’s stifling, Christian. I’ll never flourish with your incessant interference. I need some freedom. I wouldn’t dream of meddling in your affairs.”
“I only want you safe, Anastasia. If anything happened to you, I—”
“I know,” she says, “and I understand why you feel so driven to protect me. And part of me loves it. I know that if I need you, you’ll be there, as I am for you. But if we are to have any hope of a future together, you have to trust me and trust my judgment. Yes, I’ll get it wrong sometimes—I’ll make mistakes, but I have to learn.” It’s a passionate plea, and I know she’s right.
It’s just…it’s just…
Flynn’s words come to mind. You will drive her away if you continue on this path.
She comes toward me with quiet determination and, taking my hands, places them around her waist. Gently, she puts her hands on my arms. “You can’t interfere in my job. It’s wrong. I don’t need you charging in like a white knight to save the day. I know you want to control everything, and I understand why, but you can’t. It’s an impossible goal. You have to learn to let go.” She strokes my face. “And if you can do that—give me that—I’ll move in with you.”
“You’d do that?”
“Yes,” she says.
“But you don’t know me,” I blurt, suddenly panicked. I have to tell her.
“I know you well enough, Christian. Nothing you tell me about yourself will frighten me away.”
I doubt that. She doesn’t know why I do what I do.
She doesn’t know the monster.
She touches my cheek again, trying to reassure me. “But if you could just ease up on me.”
“I’m trying, Anastasia. I couldn’t just stand by and let you go to New York with that sleazeball. He has an alarming reputation. None of his assistants have lasted more than three months, and they’re never retained by the company. I don’t want that for you, baby. I don’t want anything to happen to you. You being hurt, the thought fills me with dread. I can’t promise not to interfere, not if I think you’ll come to harm.” I take a deep breath. “I love you, Anastasia. I will do everything in my power to protect you. I cannot imagine my life without you.”
Quite the speech, Grey.
“I love you, too, Christian.” She folds her arms around my neck and kisses me, her tongue teasing my lips.
Taylor coughs in the background, and I stand with Ana by my side.
“Yes?” I ask Taylor, a little more sharply than intended.
“Mrs. Lincoln is on her way up, sir.”
“What?”
Taylor gives me an apologetic shrug.
I shake my head.
“Well, this should be interesting,” I mutter, and give Ana a contrite smile. Ana looks from me to Taylor and I don’t think she quite believes him. He gives her a nod and leaves.
“Did you talk to her today?” she asks me.
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“I said that you didn’t want to see her, and that I understood your reasons why. I also told her that I didn’t appreciate her going behind my back.”
“What did she say?”
“She brushed it off in a way that only Elena can.”
“Why do you think she’s here?”
“I have no idea.”
Taylor returns to the living room. “Mrs. Lincoln,” he says, and Elena stands staring at the two of us. I pull Ana closer to my side.
“Elena?” I say, wondering why the hell she’s here.
She looks from me to Ana. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had company, Christian. It’s Monday,” she says.
“Girlfriend,” I clarify.
Submissives only on the weekend, Mrs. Lincoln. You know this.
“Of course. Hello, Anastasia. I didn’t know you’d be here. I know you don’t want to talk to me. I accept that.”
“Do you?” Ana’s tone is deadly.
Hell.
Elena walks toward us. “Yes, I get the message. I’m not here to see you. Like I said, Christian rarely has company during the week.” She pauses and addresses Ana directly. “I have a problem, and I need to talk to Christian about it.”
“Oh? Do you want a drink?” I ask.
“Yes, please,” she says.
I fetch a glass. When I turn they are both sitting in awkward silence at the kitchen island.
Shit.
This day. This day. This day. It just gets better and better.
I pour wine into both of their glasses and take a seat between them.
“What’s up?” I ask Elena.
Elena’s eyes dart to Ana.
“Anastasia’s with me now.” I reach across and give Ana’s hand a reassuring squeeze in the hope that she keeps quiet. The sooner Elena says her piece, the sooner she’ll be gone.
Elena looks nervous, unlike her usual self. She twists her ring, a sure sign that something is agitating her. “I’m being blackmailed.”
“How?” I ask, appalled. She pulls a note out of her purse. I don’t want to touch it. “Put it down, lay it out.” I point with my chin at the marble top and tighten my hold on Ana’s hand.
“You don’t want to touch it?” Elena asks.
“No. Fingerprints.”
“Christian, you know I can’t go to the police with this.” She puts the note on the counter. It’s written in capital letters.
MRS LINCOLN
FIVE THOUSAND
OR I TELL ALL.
“They’re only asking for five thousand dollars?” That doesn’t seem right. “Any idea who it might be? Someone in the community?”
“No,” she responds.
“Linc?”
“What—after all this time? I don’t think so.”
“Does Isaac know?”
“I haven’t told him.”
“I think he needs to know.”
Ana tugs at her hand. She wants out.
“What?” I ask Ana.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed,” she says.
I search her face to see what she’s really thinking, and as usual I have no idea.
“Okay,” I answer. “I won’t be long.” I release her hand and she gets up.
“Good night, Anastasia,” Elena says.
Ana responds, her voice frigid, and she stalks out of the room. I turn my attention back to Elena.
“I don’t think there’s a great deal I can do, Elena. If it’s a question of money…” I stop. She knows I’d give her the money. “I could ask Welch to investigate?”
“No, Christian, I just wanted to share. You look very happy,” she adds, changing the subject.
“I am.” Ana just agreed to move in.
“You deserve to be.”
“I wish that were true.”
“Christian.” Elena’s tone is chastising. “Does she know how negative you are about yourself? About all your issues?”
“She knows me better than anyone.”
“Ouch! That hurts.”
“It’s the truth, Elena. I don’t have to play games with her. And I mean it, leave her alone.”
“What is her problem?”
“You. What we were. What we did. She doesn’t understand.”
“Make her understand.”