Fifty Shades Darker

doesn’t try to control my every move. The phone rings.

“Jack Hyde’s office-”

“You assured me you wouldn’t go out,” Christian interrupts me, his voice cold and hard.

My heart sinks for the millionth time this day. Shit. How the hell does he know?

“Jack sent me out for some lunch. I couldn’t say no. Are you having me watched?” My scalp prickles at the notion. No wonder I felt so paranoid-someonewaswatching me. The thought makes me angry.

“This is why I didn’t want you going back to work,” Christian snaps.

“Christian, please. You’re being”-So Fifty-“so suffocating.”

“Suffocating?” he whispers, surprised.

“Yes. You have to stop this. I’ll talk to you this evening. Unfortunately, I have to work late because I can’t go to New York.”

“Anastasia, I don’t want to suffocate you,” he says quietly, appalled.

“Well, you are. I have work to do. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up, feeling drained and vaguely depressed.

After our wonderful weekend, the reality is hitting home. I have never felt more like running. Running to some quiet retreat so I can think about this man, about how he is, and about how to deal with him. On one level, I know he’s broken-I can see that clearly now-and it’s both heartbreaking and exhausting. From the small pieces of precious information that he’s given me about his life, I understand why. An unloved child; a hideously abusive environment; a mother who couldn’t protect him, whom he couldn’t protect, and who died in front of him.

I shudder. My poor Fifty. I am his, but not to be kept in some gilded cage. How am I going to make him see this?

With a heavy heart, I drag one of the manuscripts Jack wants me to summarize into my lap and continue to read. I can think of no easy solution to Christian’s fucked-up control issues. I will just have to talk to him later, face to face.

Half an hour later, Jack e-mails me a document that I need to tidy up and polish, ready for printing tomorrow in time for his conference. It will take me not just the rest of the afternoon but well into the evening, too. I set to work.

When I look up, it’s after seven and the office is deserted, though the light in Jack’s office is still on. I hadn’t noticed everyone leaving, but I am nearly finished. I e-mail the document back to Jack for his approval and check my inbox. There’s nothing new from Christian, so I quickly glance at my Blackberry, and it startles me by buzzing- it’s Christian.

“Hi,” I murmur.

“Hi, when will you be finished?”

“By seven thirty, I think.”

“I’ll meet you outside.”

“Okay.”

He sounds quiet, nervous even. Why? Wary of my reaction?

“I’m still mad at you, but that’s all,” I whisper. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“I know. See you at seven thirty.”

Jack comes out of his office.

“I have to go. See you later.” I hang up.

I look up at Jack as he strolls casually toward me.

“I just need a couple of tweaks. I’ve e-mailed the brief back to you.”

He leans over me while I retrieve the document, rather close-uncomfortably close. His arm brushes mine. Accidentally? I flinch, but he pretends not to notice. His other arm rests on the back of my chair, touching my back. I sit up so I’m not leaning against the backrest.

“Pages sixteen and twenty-three, and that should be it,” he murmurs, his mouth inches from my ear.

My skin crawls at his proximity, but I choose to ignore it. Opening the document, I shakily start on the changes. He’s still leaning over me, and all my senses are hyperaware. It’s distracting and awkward, and inside I am screaming, Back off!

“Once this is done, it’ll be good to go to print. You can organize that tomorrow. Thank you for staying late and doing this, Ana.” His voice is smooth, gentle, like he’s talking to a wounded animal. My stomach twists.

“I think the least I could do is reward you with a quick drink. You deserve one.” He tucks a strand of my hair that’s come loose from my hair tie behind my ear and gently caresses the lobe.

I cringe gritting my teeth, and I jerk my head away. Shit! Christian was right. Don’t touch me.

“Actually, I can’t this evening.” Or any other evening, Jack.

“Just a quick one?” he coaxes.

“No, I can’t. But thank you.”

Jack sits on the end of my desk and frowns. Alarm bells sound loudly in my head. I am on my own in the office. I cannot leave. I glance nervously at the clock. Another five minutes before Christian is due.

“Ana, I think we make a great team. I’m sorry that I couldn’t pull off this New York trip. It won’t be the same without you.”

I’m sure it won’t. I smile weakly up at him, because I can’t think of what to say. And for the first time all day, I feel the tiniest hint of relief that I am not going.

“So, did you have a good weekend?” he asks smoothly.

“Yes, thanks.” Where is he going with this?

“See your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“What does he do?”

Owns your ass… “He’s in business.”

“That’s interesting. What kind of business?”

“Oh, he has his fingers in all sorts of pies.”

Jack cocks his head to one side as he leans in toward me, invading my personal space-again.

“You’re being very coy, Ana.”

“Well, he’s in telecommunications, manufacturing, and agriculture.”

Jack raises his eyebrows. “So many things. Who does he work for?”

“He works for himself. If you’re happy with the document, I’d like to go, if that’s okay?”

He leans back. My personal space is safe again.

“Of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you,” he says disingenuously.

“What time does the building close?”

“Security is here until eleven.”

“Good.” I smile, and my subconscious flops down in her armchair, relieved to know that we are not alone in the building. Switching off my computer, I grab my purse and stand up, ready to leave.

“You like him then? Your boyfriend?”

“I love him,” I answer, looking Jack squarely in the eye.

“I see.” Jack frowns and he stands up from my desk. “What’s his surname?”

I flush.

“Grey. Christian Grey,” I mumble.

Jack’s mouth drops open. “Seattle’s richest bachelor? That Christian Grey?”

“Yes. The same.” Yes, that Christian Grey, your future boss who will have you for breakfast if you invade my personal space again.

“I thought he looked familiar,” Jack says darkly and his brow creases again. “Well, he’s a lucky man.”

I blink at him. What do I say to that?

“Have a good evening, Ana.” Jack smiles, but the smile doesn’t touch his eyes, and he walks stiffly back into his office without a backward glance.

I let out a long sigh of relief. Well, that problem might be solved. Fifty works his magic again. Just his name is my talisman, and it has this man retreating with his tail between his legs. I allow myself a small victorious smile. You see, Christian? Even your name protects me-you didn’t have to go to all that trouble of clamping