Christian Grey
Deaf as a Post CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Hmmm.
Date: June 15 2011 16:24
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey
I can imagine you pouting as you wrote that last sentence.
That does things to me.
A xox
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
Her reply makes me laugh out loud, but what do I have to do to make her use her phone?
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Rolling Eyes
Date: June 15 2011 16:29
To: Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele
WILL YOU USE YOUR BLACKBERRY!!!
x
Christian Grey
Twitchy Palmed CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I await her answer. It does not disappoint.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Inspiration
Date: June 15 2011 16:33
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey
Ah…your twitchy palms can’t stay still for long, can they?
I wonder what Dr. Flynn would say about that?
But now I know what to give you for your birthday—and I hope it makes me sore…
;)
A x
Finally, she’s using her phone. And she wants to be sore. My mind goes into overdrive imagining the possibilities this presents.
I shift in my seat as I type my response.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Angina
Date: June 15 2011 16:38
To: Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele
I don’t think my heart could stand the strain of another e-mail like that, or my pants for that matter.
Behave.
x
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Trying
Date: June 15 2011 16:42
To: Christian Grey
Christian
I am trying to work for my very trying boss.
Please stop bothering me and being trying yourself.
Your last e-mail nearly made me combust.
x
P.S.: Can you pick me up at 6:30?
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: I’ll Be There
Date: June 15 2011 16:47
To: Anastasia Steele
Nothing would give me greater pleasure.
Actually, I can think of any number of things that would give me greater pleasure, and they all involve you.
x
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
TAYLOR AND I PULL up outside her office at 6:27. I should only have a few minutes to wait.
I wonder if she’s had any thoughts about my proposal. Of course, she needs to talk to Flynn first. Perhaps he’ll tell her not to be a fool. The thought depresses me. I wonder if our days are numbered. But she knows the worst and she’s still here. I think there’s room for hope. I check my watch—6:38—and stare at the door of her office building.
Where is she?
Suddenly she’s in the street, the door swinging behind her. But she doesn’t head toward the car.
What gives?
She stops, looks around, and slowly sinks to the ground.
Fuck.
I open the car door and notice out of the corner of my eye that Taylor is doing the same.
We both rush to Ana, who is sitting on the sidewalk, looking faint. I sink down beside her. “Ana, Ana! What’s wrong?” I pull her into my lap to check what’s wrong, holding her head between my hands. She closes her eyes and sags against me as if in relief. “Ana.” I grasp her arms and shake her. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“Jack,” she whispers.
“Fuck.” Adrenaline sweeps through my body, leaving a murderous fury in its wake. I glance up at Taylor. He nods and disappears into the building. “What did that sleazeball do to you?”
Ana giggles. “It’s what I did to him.” And she doesn’t stop laughing. She’s hysterical. I’m going to kill him.
“Ana!” I give her a shake. “Did he touch you?”
“Only once,” she whispers, and her giggling stops.
Rage fuels my muscles as I stand holding her in my arms. “Where is that fucker?” From inside the building we can hear muffled shouts. I set Ana on her feet. “Can you stand?”
She nods. “Don’t go in. Don’t, Christian.”
“Get in the car.”
“Christian, no.” She clasps my arm.
“Get in the goddamned car, Ana.”
I’m going to kill him.
“No! Please!” she begs. “Stay. Don’t leave me on my own.”
I drag my hand through my hair, trying and failing to hang on to my temper while the muffled shouting inside SIP intensifies. Abruptly it stops.
I pull out my phone.
“Christian, he has my e-mails,” Ana says in a whisper.
“What?”
“My e-mails to you. He wanted to know where your e-mails to me were. He was trying to blackmail me.”
I think I’m going to have a coronary.
That motherfucking asshole.
“Fuck!” I growl, as I call Barney.
“Hello—”
“Barney. Grey. I need you to access the SIP main server and wipe all Anastasia Steele’s e-mails to me. Then access the personal data files of Jack Hyde and check they aren’t stored there. If they are, wipe them.”
“Hyde? H.Y.D.E.”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“All of them. Now. Let me know when it’s done.”
“Will do.”
I hang up and dial Roach’s number.
“Jerry Roach.”
“Roach. Grey.”
“Good evening—”
“Hyde. I want him out. Now.”
“But—” Roach blusters.
“This minute. Call security. Get him to clear his desk immediately or I will liquidate this company first thing in the morning.”
“Is there a reason—” Roach tries again.
“You already have all the justification you need to give him his pink slip.”
“You’ve read his confidential file?”
I ignore his question. “Do you understand?”
“Mr. Grey, I completely understand. Our HR director is always defending him. I’ll see to it. Good evening.”
I hang up, feeling somewhat mollified, and turn to Ana. “BlackBerry!”
“Please don’t be mad at me.”
“I am so mad at you right now,” I snap. “Get in the car.”
“Christian, please—”
“Get in the fucking car, Anastasia, or so help me I’ll put you in there myself.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, please,” she says.
“Stupid!” I see red. “I told you to use your fucking BlackBerry. Don’t talk to me about stupid. Get in the motherfucking car, Anastasia—now!”
“Okay.” She holds up her hands. “But, please, be careful.”
Stop shouting at her, Grey.
I point to the car.
“Please be careful,” she whispers, again. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It would kill me.”
And there it is. She cares. Her affection for me is plain in her words and in her kind, concerned expression.
Calm down, Grey. I take a deep breath.
“I’ll be careful,” I say, and I watch her walk to the Audi and climb in. Once she’s in the car, I turn on my heel and stride into the building.
I have no idea where to go, but I follow Hyde’s voice.
His irritating, whiny voice.
Taylor is standing outside an executive office, beside what must be Ana’s desk. Inside, Hyde is on the phone and a security guard stands over him with his arms crossed.
“I don’t give a fuck, Jerry.” Hyde is protesting into the phone. “The woman is a pricktease.”