“Fantastic. Here-for you.” I pop the small bottle of perfume I bought for her onto her desk, and she claps her hands with glee.
“Oh, thank you!” she says enthusiastically. “Your urgent correspondence is on your desk, and Roach would like to see you at ten. That’s all I have to report for now.”
“Good. Thank you. And thanks for the coffee.” Wandering into my office, I rest my briefcase on my desk and gaze at the piled up letters. Jeez, I have a lot to do.
Just before ten there’s a timid tap on my door.
“Come in.”
Elizabeth looks around the door. “Hi, Ana. I just wanted to say welcome back.”
“Hey. I have to say, reading through all this correspondence, I wish I was back in the South of France.”
Elizabeth laughs, but her laughter is off, forced, and I cock my head to one side and gaze at her like Christian does to me.
“Glad you’re back safely,” she says. “I’ll see you in a few minutes at the meeting with Roach.”
“Okay,” I murmur, and she shuts the door behind her. I frown at the closed door.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Errant Wives
Date: August 22, 2011 09:56
To: Anastasia Steele
Wife
I sent the e-mail below and it bounced.
And it’s because you haven’t changed your name.
Something you want to tell me?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From: Christian Grey
FW Subject: Bubble
Date: August 22, 2011 09:32
To: Anastasia Grey
Mrs. Grey
Love covering all the bases with you.
Have a great first day back.
Miss our bubble already.
x
Christian Grey
Back in the Real World CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Shit. I hit reply immediately.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Don’t Burst the Bubble
Date: August 22, 2011 09:58
To: Christian Grey
Husband
I am all for a baseball metaphor with you, Mr. Grey.
I want to keep my name here.
I’ll explain this evening.
I am going in to a meeting now.
Miss our bubble, too…
PS: Thought I had to use my BlackBerry?
Anastasia Steele
Commissioning Editor, SIP
This is going to be such a fight. I can feel it. Sighing, I gather up my papers for the meeting.
The meeting lasts for two hours. All the commissioning editors are there, plus Roach and Elizabeth. We discuss personnel, strategy, marketing, security, and year-end. As the meeting progresses, I grow more and more uncomfortable. There’s a subtle change in how my colleagues are treating me-a distance and deference that wasn’t there before I left for my honeymoon. And from Courtney, who heads up the non-fiction division, there’s downright hostility. Maybe I’m just being paranoid but it goes some way to explaining Elizabeth’s odd greeting this morning.
My mind drifts back to the yacht, then to the playroom, then to the R8 speeding away from the mystery Dodge on I-5. Perhaps Christian’s right… perhaps I can’t do this anymore. The thought is depressing-this is all I’ve ever wanted to do. If I can’t do this, what will I do? As I walk back to my office, I try to dismiss these dark thoughts.
When I sit down at my desk, I quickly check my e-mails. Nothing from Christian. I check my BlackBerry… Still nothing. Good. At least there’s been no adverse reaction to my e-mail. Perhaps we’ll discuss this tonight as per my request. I find that hard to believe, but ignoring my uneasy feeling, I open the marketing plan I was given at the meeting.
As is our ritual on a Monday, Hannah comes into my office with a plate for my packed lunch courtesy of Mrs. Jones, and we sit and eat our lunches together, discussing what we want to achieve during the week. She brings me up to date with the office gossip, too, which-considering I’ve been away for three weeks-is pretty thin on the ground. As we’re chatting, there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
Roach opens the door, and standing beside him is Christian. I’m momentarily struck dumb. Christian shoots me a blazing look and stalks in, before smiling politely at Hannah.
“Hello, you must be Hannah. I’m Christian Grey,” he says. Hannah scrambles to her feet and holds out her hand.
“Mr. Grey. H-how nice to meet you,” she stutters as they shake hands. “Can I fetch you a coffee?”
“Please,” he says warmly. With a quick puzzled glance at me, she scuttles out of the office past Roach, who stands as dumbstruck as me on the threshold of my office.
“If you’ll excuse me, Roach, I’d like a word with
“Of course, Mr. Grey. Ana,” Roach mutters, shutting the door to my office as he departs. I recover my power of speech.
“Mr. Grey, how nice to see you.” I smile, far too sweetly.
“
“It’s your company.” I wave at the chair Hannah vacated.
“Yes, it is.” He smiles wolfishly at me, the smile not reaching his eyes. His tone is clipped. He’s bristling with tension-I can feel it all around me.
“Your office is very small,” he says as he sits down facing my desk.
“It suits me.”
He regards me neutrally, but I know he’s mad. I take a deep breath. This is not going to be fun.
“So what can I do for you, Christian?”
“I’m just looking over my assets.”
“Your assets? All of them?”
“All of them. Some of them need rebranding.”
