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Page 17


  He's trying to tell me something...It wasn't her fucking pimp?

  Please tell me it wasn't him.

  "If you want to know anything else...I'm here."

  "That man?" I whisper.

  "No. Nothing to do with you," my dad says, to reassure me.

  I close my eyes.

  Thank fuck. Thank fuck. Thank fuck.

  "Is that all, Dad? Can I go?"

  "Of course." Dad looks troubled, but he nods.

  Clutching the photo, I leave his office. And I run. Run. Run. Run...

  The crack whore was a sad and pathetic creature. She looks every bit the victim in this old black-and-white. I think it's a police mug shot but with the numbers cut off. I wonder if things would have ended up differently for her if my parents' charity had existed then. I shake my head. I don't want to talk about her with Ana. "Shall I zip you up?" I ask, to change the subject.

  "Please," Ana says, and turns her back to me so I can zip up her dress. "Then why is she on your bulletin board?"

  Anastasia Steele, you have an answer and a question for everything.

  "An oversight on my part. How's my tie?"

  She examines my tie and her eyes soften. She reaches up and straightens it, pulling on both ends. "Now it's perfect," she says.

  "Like you." I fold her in my arms and kiss her. "Feeling better?"

  "Much, thank you, Mr. Grey."

  "The pleasure was all mine, Miss Steele."

  I'm feeling grateful. Content.

  I hold out my hand and she takes it with a shy but satisfied grin. I unlock the door and we head downstairs and back out to the gardens. I don't know at which point our security joins us, but they follow us onto the terrace through the sitting room's French doors. A few smokers are gathered there, puffing away, and they watch us with interest, but I ignore them and lead Ana toward the dance floor.

  The MC announces, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the first dance. Mr. and Dr. Grey, are you ready?" Carrick nods, my mother in his arms. "Ladies and gentlemen of the First Dance Auction, are you ready?" I circle Ana's waist and peer down at her, and she grins.

  "Then we shall begin," the MC declares with gusto. "Take it away, Sam!" The band leader bounds across the stage, turns to the band and snaps his fingers, and the band begins a cheesy version of "I've Got You Under My Skin." I pull Ana close as we start to dance and she falls easily into step with me. She's captivating as I twirl her around the dance floor, and we grin at each other like the lovesick fools we are...

  Have I ever felt like this?

  Buoyant?

  Happy?

  Master of the fucking universe.

  "I love this song," I tell her. "Seems very fitting."

  "You're under my skin, too. Or you were in your bedroom."

  Ana! I'm shocked.

  "Miss Steele, I had no idea you could be so crude."

  "Mr. Grey, neither did I. I think it's all my recent experiences," she says with a mischievous smile. "They've been an education."

  "For both of us." I take her for a spin around the dance floor once more. The song finishes, and reluctantly I release her to applaud.

  "May I cut in?" Flynn asks, appearing from nowhere. He has some explaining to do after the charade at the auction, but I step aside.

  "Be my guest. Anastasia, this is John Flynn. John, Anastasia."

  Ana shoots me a nervous look and I retreat to the sidelines to watch. Flynn opens his arms and Ana takes his hand as the band strikes up "They Can't Take That Away from Me."

  Ana is animated in John's arms. I wonder what they are talking about.

  Me?

  Shit.

  My anxiety returns in full force.

  I have to face the reality that once Ana knows all my secrets, she'll leave, and that trying things her way is just prolonging the inevitable.

  But John wouldn't be so indiscreet, surely.

  "Hello, darling," Grace says, interrupting my dark thoughts.

  "Mother."

  "Are you enjoying yourself?" She's also watching Ana and John.

  "Very much."

  Grace has taken off her mask. "What a generous donation from your young friend," she says, but there's a slight edge to her voice.

  "Yes," I respond dryly.

  "I thought she was a student."

  "Mom, it's a long story."

  "I figured as much."

  Something is off. "What is it, Grace? Spit it out."

  She tentatively reaches out to touch my arm. "You look happy, darling."

  "I am."

  "I think she's good for you."

  "I think so, too."

  "I hope she doesn't hurt you."

  "Why would you say that?"

  "She's young."

  "Mother, what are you--"

  A female guest wearing the most garish gown I've ever seen approaches Grace.

  "Christian, this is my friend Pamela, from book club."

  We exchange pleasantries, but I want to grill my mother. What the hell is she trying to imply about Ana? The music is coming to an end, and I know I need to rescue Anastasia from my psychiatrist.

  "This conversation isn't over," I warn Grace and head over to where Ana and John have stopped dancing.

  What is my mother trying to tell me?

  "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Anastasia," Flynn says to Ana.

  "John." I nod in greeting.

  "Christian." Flynn acknowledges me and excuses himself--to find his wife, no doubt. I'm confounded by the exchange I've just had with my mother. I sweep Ana into my arms for the next dance.

  "He's much younger than I expected," Ana says. "And terribly indiscreet."

  Fuck. "Indiscreet?"

  "Oh yes, he told me everything," she discloses.

  Shit. Did he really do this? I test Ana to see how much damage he's done. "Well, in that case, I'll get your bag. I'm sure you want nothing more to do with me."

  Ana stops dancing. "He didn't tell me anything!" she exclaims, and I think she wants to shake me.

  Oh, thank God.

  I place my hand on the small of her back as the band launches into "The Very Thought of You." "Then let's enjoy this dance."

  And I'm an idiot. Of course Flynn wouldn't break any professional confidences. And as Ana matches me step for step, my spirit soars and my anxiety dissipates. I had no idea I could enjoy dancing so much.

  It amazes me how poised Ana is tonight on the dance floor, and for a moment I'm back in the apartment after our first night together, watching her doing a little jig with her headphones on. She was so uncoordinated then--such a contrast to the Ana who's here with me now, following my lead perfectly and enjoying herself.

  The band segues into "You Don't Know Me."

  It's slower. It's melancholy. It's bittersweet.

  It's a warning.

  Ana. You don't know me.

  And as I hold her and we sway together, I silently beg her forgiveness for a sin she knows nothing about. For something she must never know about.

  She doesn't know me.

  Baby, I'm sorry. I inhale her scent and it offers me some solace. Closing my eyes, I commit it to my memory so I'll always be able to recall it once she's gone.

  Ana.

  The song finishes and she gives me a winsome smile.

  "I need to go to the restroom," she says. "I won't be long."

  "Okay." I watch her leave with Taylor following and note the other three security officers standing at the edges of the dance floor. One of them peels off to trail after Taylor.

  I spot Dr. Flynn talking with his wife.

  "John."

  "Hello again, Christian. You've met my wife, Rhian."

  "Of course. Rhian," I say as we shake hands.

  "Your parents know how to throw a party," she says.

  "That they do," I respond.

  "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to run to the powder room. John. Behave," she warns, and I have to laugh.

  "She knows me well,"
Flynn remarks dryly.

  "So what the fuck was all that about?" I ask. "Are you having some fun at my expense?"

  "Definitely at your expense. I love to see you parted with your money."

  "You're lucky that she's worth every single penny."

  "I had to do something to make you see that you're not afraid of commitment." Flynn shrugs.

  "That was the reason you bid against me, to test me? It's not my lack of commitment that scares me." I give him a bleak look.

  "She seems well equipped to deal with you," he says.

  I'm not so sure.

  "Christian, just tell her. She knows you have issues. It's not because of anything I've said." He holds his hands up. "And this isn't really the time or the place to have this discussion."

  "You're right."

  "Where is she?" Flynn glances around.

  "Powder room."

  "She's a lovely young woman."

  I nod in agreement.

  "Have some faith," he says.

  "Mr. Grey." We're interrupted by Reynolds, from the security team.

  "What is it?" I ask him.

  "Could I have a private word?"

  "You can speak freely," I answer. This is my shrink, for fuck's sake.

  "Taylor wanted you to know that Elena Lincoln is talking to Miss Steele."

  Shit.

  "Go," says Flynn, and from the look he gives me, I know he'd like to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

  "Laters," I mutter, and follow Reynolds to the pavilion.

  Taylor is standing by the tented doorway. Beyond him, inside the large tent, Ana and Elena are in a tense discussion. Ana suddenly whirls around and storms toward me.

  "There you are," I say, trying to gauge her mood when she reaches us. She completely ignores me and brushes past both Taylor and me.

  This is not good.

  I give Taylor a quick look, but he remains impassive.

  "Ana," I call, and hurry to catch up with her. "What's wrong?"

  "Why don't you ask your ex?" she seethes. She's furious.

  I check to make sure that no one is in listening distance. "I'm asking you," I persist.

  She glares at me.

  What the hell have I done?

  She squares her shoulders. "She's threatening to come after me if I hurt you again--probably with a whip," she snarls.

  And I don't know if she's being intentionally funny, but the image of Elena threatening Ana with a riding crop is ridiculous. "Surely the irony of that isn't lost on you," I tease Ana in an attempt to lighten her mood.

  "This isn't funny, Christian!" she snaps.

  "No, you're right. I'll talk to her."

  "You will do no such thing." She crosses her arms.

  What the hell am I supposed to do?

  "Look," she says, "I know you're tied up with her financially, forgive the pun, but--" She stops and huffs because she seems at a sudden loss for words. "I need the restroom," she growls. Ana is pissed. Again.

  I sigh. What can I do? "Please don't be mad," I urge. "I didn't know she was here. She said she wasn't coming." I reach up and Ana lets me run my thumb across her bottom lip. "Don't let Elena ruin our evening, please, Anastasia. She's really old news." I tip her chin up and plant a gentle kiss on her lips.

  She relents with a sigh and I think our fight is over. I take her elbow. "I'll accompany you to the powder room so you don't get interrupted again."

  I fish out my phone as I wait for her outside the portable luxury restrooms that my mother has rented for the event. There's an e-mail from Dr. Greene saying she can see Ana tomorrow.

  Good. I'll deal with that later.

  I punch Elena's number into my phone and walk several steps away to a quiet corner of the backyard. She answers on the first ring.

  "Christian."

  "Elena, what the hell are you doing?"

  "That girl is unpleasant and rude."

  "Well, maybe you should leave her alone."

  "I thought I should introduce myself," Elena says.

  "What for? I thought you said you weren't coming. Why did you change your mind? I thought we'd agreed."

  "Your mother called and begged me to come, and I was curious about Anastasia. I need to know she's not going to hurt you again."

  "Well, leave her alone. This is the first regular relationship I've ever had, and I don't want you jeopardizing it through some misplaced concern for me. Leave. Her. Alone."

  "Chris--"

  "I mean it, Elena."

  "Have you turned your back on who you are?" she asks.

  "No, of course not." I look up, and Ana is watching me. "I have to go. Good night." I hang up on Elena, probably for the first time in my life.

  Ana raises a brow. "How's the old news?"

  "Cranky." I decide a change of subject is for the best. "Do you want to dance some more? Or would you like to go?" I check my watch. "The fireworks start in five minutes."

  "I love fireworks," she says, and I know she's being conciliatory.

  "We'll stay and watch them, then." I fold her in my arms and pull her close. "Don't let her come between us, please."

  "She cares about you," Ana says.

  "Yes, and I her, as a friend."

  "I think it's more than a friendship to her."

  "Anastasia, Elena and I--" I stop. What can I tell Ana to reassure her? "It's complicated. We have a shared history. But it is just that, history. As I've said to you time and time again, she's a good friend. That's all. Please, forget about her." I kiss her hair and she says no more.

  I take her hand, and we wander back to the dance floor.

  "Anastasia," my father says in his smooth tone. He's standing behind us. "I wondered if you'd do me the honor of the next dance." Carrick holds his hand out to her.

  I give him a smile and watch him lead my date onto the dance floor as the band starts "Come Fly with Me."

  They're soon enjoying a spirited conversation and I wonder again if it's about me.

  "Hello, darling." My mother sidles up to me, holding a glass of champagne.

  "Mother, what were you trying to say?" I ask without any preamble.

  "Christian, I--" She stops and looks anxiously at me, and I know she's prevaricating. She never likes to give bad news.

  My anxiety level rises. "Grace. Tell me."

  "I spoke with Elena. She told me that you and Ana had split up and that you were heartbroken."

  What?

  "Why didn't you tell me?" she continues. "I know you run a business together, but I was upset hearing it from her."

  "Elena is exaggerating. I wasn't heartbroken. We had a falling-out. That's all. I didn't tell you because it was temporary. It's fine now."

  "I hate to think of you being hurt, darling. I hope she's with you for the right reasons."

  "Who? Ana? What are you implying, Mother?"

  "You're a wealthy man, Christian."

  "You think she's a gold-digger?" And it's like she's struck me.

  Fuck.

  "No, that's not what I said--"

  "Mom. She's not like that at all." I'm trying not to lose my temper.

  "I hope so, darling. I'm just watching out for you. Be careful. Most young people experience heartbreak during their adolescence." She gives me a knowing look.

  Oh, please. My heart was broken way, way before I hit puberty.

  "Darling, you know we only want you happy, and I have to say, on the evidence of this evening, I've never seen you happier."

  "Yeah. Mother, I appreciate the concern, but it's all good." I almost cross my fingers behind my back. "Now I'm going to rescue my gold-digging girlfriend from the clutches of my father." My voice is arctic.

  "Christian--" My mother tries to call me back, but frankly she can fuck off. How dare she think that of Ana. And why the hell is Elena gossiping about me and Ana to Grace?

  "That's enough dancing with old men," I announce to Ana and my dad.

  Carrick laughs. "Less of the 'old,' son. I've been
known to have my moments." He winks at Ana and swaggers away to join his distressed-looking wife.

  "I think my dad likes you," I mutter, feeling murderous.

  "What's not to like?" Ana says with a coy smile.

  "Good point well made, Miss Steele." I pull her into an embrace as the band starts to play "It Had to Be You."

  "Dance with me." My voice is low and husky.

  "With pleasure, Mr. Grey," she replies. We dance and my thoughts of gold-diggers, overanxious parents, and interfering ex-Dommes are forgotten.

  SUNDAY, JUNE 12, 2011

  * * *

  At midnight, the MC declares that we can remove our masks. We stand on the banks of the bay and watch the astonishing fireworks display, Ana in front of me, cloaked in my arms. Her face is lit by a kaleidoscope of colors as the fireworks explode in the sky above us. She marvels at each dazzling burst, a huge grin on her face. The display is perfectly timed to the music, Handel's "Zadok the Priest."

  It's stirring.

  My parents have gone overboard for their guests, and it makes me feel a little less annoyed with them. The final volley of rockets bursts into golden stars that light up the bay. The crowd spontaneously applauds as sparks rain down from the sky, illuminating the black water.

  It's spectacular.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," the MC calls out as the cheers and whistles fade. "Just one note to add at the end of this wonderful evening: your generosity has raised a total of one million eight hundred and fifty-three thousand dollars!" The news is met with rousing cheers from the crowd. It's an impressive total. I imagine my mother has been busy all evening extracting money from her wealthy friends and guests. My contribution of $600,000 has helped. The applause is deafening, and on the pontoon where the fireworks technicians have been busy, the words "Thank You from Coping Together" light up in silver sparklers and shimmer over the dark mirror of the bay.

  "Oh, Christian, that was wonderful," Ana exclaims, and I kiss her. I suggest to her that it's time to go. I can't wait to get home and curl up with her. It's been a long day. I'm hoping that I don't need to persuade her to stay the night. For a start, Leila is still at large. Also, in spite of everything, I've enjoyed today, and I want more. I want her to stay through Sunday, and maybe next week, too.

  Tomorrow Ana can see Dr. Greene and, depending on the weather, we could either go soaring or go sailing. I could show her The Grace.

  Spending more time with Ana is appealing.

  Very appealing.

  Taylor approaches, shaking his head, and I know he wants us to stay put until the crowd disperses. He's been vigilant all evening and must be exhausted. I follow his direction and ask Ana to wait with me.

  "So, Aspen?" I ask, to divert her.