Twiddling His Thumbs CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
And there’s another from him, from earlier this morning.
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Discretion
Date:June 15, 2011 09:50
To:Anastasia Steele
Is the better part of valor.
Please use discretion… your work e-mails are monitored.
HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THIS?
Yes. Shouty capitals as you say. USE YOUR BLACKBERRY.
Dr. Flynn can see us tomorrow evening.
x
Christian Grey
Still Pissed CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
And an even later one… Oh no.
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Crickets
Date:June 15, 2011 12:15
To:Anastasia Steele
I haven’t heard from you.
Please tell me you are okay.
You know how I worry.
I will send Taylor to check!
x
Christian Grey,
Over-Anxious CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I roll my eyes, and call him. I don’t want him to worry.
“Christian Grey’s phone, Andrea Parker speaking.”
Oh. I am so disconcerted that it’s not Christian who answers that it halts me in the street, and the young man behind me mutters angrily as he swerves to avoid bumping into me. I stand under the green awning of the deli.
“Hello? Can I help you?” Andrea fills the void of awkward silence.
“Sorry… Er… I was hoping to speak to Christian-”
“Mr. Grey is in a meeting at the moment.” She bristles with efficiency. “Can I take a message?”
“Can you tell him Ana called?”
“Ana? As in Anastasia Steele?”
“Er… Yes.” Her question confuses me.
“Hold one second please, Miss Steele.”
I listen attentively as she puts the phone down, but I can’t tell what’s going on. A few seconds later Christian is on the line. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
I hear the quick release of his held breath. He’s relieved.
“Christian, why wouldn’t I be okay?” I whisper reassuringly.
“You’re normally so quick at responding to my e-mails. After what I told you yesterday, I was worried,” he says quietly, and then he’s talking to someone in his office.
“No, Andrea. Tell them to wait,” he says sternly. Oh, I know that tone of voice.
I can’t hear Andrea’s response.
“No. I said wait,” he snaps.
“Christian, you’re obviously busy. I only called to let you know that I’m okay, and I mean that-just very busy today. Jack has been cracking the whip. Er… I mean…” I flush and fall silent.
Christian says nothing for a moment.
“Cracking the whip, eh? Well, there was a time when I would have called him a lucky man.” His voice is full of dry humor. “Don’t let him get on top of you, baby.”
“Christian!” I scold him and I know he’s grinning.
“Just watch him, that’s all. Look, I’m glad you’re okay. What time shall I collect you?”
“I’ll e-mail you.”
“From your Blackberry,” he says sternly.
“Yes, Sir,” I snap back.
“Laters, baby.”
“Bye…”
He’s still hanging on.
“Hang up,” I scold, smiling.
He sighs heavily down the phone. “I wish you’d never gone to work this morning.”
“Me, too. But I am busy. Hang up.”
“You hang up.” I hear his smile. Oh, playful Christian. I love playful Christian. Hmm… I love Christian, period.
“We’ve been here before.”
“You’re biting your lip.”
Shit, he’s right. How does he know?
“You see, you think I don’t know you, Anastasia. But I know you better than you think,” he murmurs seductively in that way that makes me weak, and wet.
“Christian, I’ll talk to you later. Right now, I really wish I hadn’t left this morning, too.”
“I’ll wait for your e-mail, Miss Steele.”
“Good day, Mr. Grey.”
Hanging up, I lean against the cold, hard glass of the deli store window. Oh my, even on the phone he owns me. Shaking my head to clear it of all thoughts Grey, I head into the deli, depressed by all thoughts Jack.
He is scowling when I get back.
“Is it okay if I take my lunch now?” I ask tentatively. He gazes up at me and his scowl deepens.
“If you must,” he snaps. “Forty-five minutes. Make up the time you lost this morning.”
“Jack, can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“You seem, kind of out of sorts today. Have I done something to offend you?”
He blinks at me momentarily. “I don’t think I’m in the mood to list your misdemeanors right now. I’m busy.” He continues to stare at his computer screen, effectively dismissing me.
I turn and leave his office, and for a moment I think I’m going to cry. Why has he taken such a sudden and intense dislike to me? A very unwelcome idea pops into my head, but I ignore it. I don’t need his shit right now-I have enough of my own.
I head out of the building to the nearby Starbucks, order a latte, and sit down in the window. Taking my iPod from my purse, I plug my headphones in. I choose a song haphazardly and press repeat so it will play over and over again. I need music to think by.
My mind drifts. Christian the sadist. Christian the submissive. Christian the untouchable. Christian’s oedipal impulses. Christian bathing Leila. I groan and close my eyes while that last image haunts me.
Can I really marry this man? He’s so much to take in. He’s complex and difficult, but deep down I know I don’t want to leave him despite all his issues. I could never leave him. I love him. It would be like cutting off my right arm.
Right now, I have never felt so alive, so vital. I’ve encountered all manner of perplexing, profound feelings and
