Grey Read online

  I stomp into the kitchen to see what Gail has prepared for breakfast.

  TAYLOR IS WAITING IN the car to whisk me to work.

  "What was it you wanted last night?" I ask him.

  "It was nothing important, sir."

  "Good," I respond, and gaze out the window, trying to put Ana and Georgia out of my mind. I fail miserably, but an idea starts to take shape.

  I call Andrea. "Morning."

  "Good morning, Mr. Grey."

  "I'm on my way in, but can you put me through to Bill?"

  "Yes, sir."

  A few moments later I have Bill on the line.

  "Mr. Grey."

  "Did your people look at Georgia as an option to site the tech plant? Savannah, in particular?"

  "I believe we did, sir. But I'll need to check."

  "Check. Come back to me."

  "Will do. Is that all?"

  "For now. Thanks."

  MY DAY IS FULL of meetings. I look at my e-mail sporadically, but there's nothing from Ana. I wonder if she's daunted by the tone of my e-mail, or if she's busy doing other things.

  What other things?

  It's impossible to avoid thoughts of her. Throughout the day I exchange texts with Caroline Acton, approving and vetoing outfits she's chosen for Ana. I hope she likes them: she'll look stunning in all of them.

  Bill has come back to me with a potential site near Savannah for our plant. Ruth is making inquiries.

  At least it's not Detroit.

  Elena calls, and we decide to have dinner at Columbia Tower.

  "Christian, you're being so coy about this girl," she chides.

  "I'll tell you everything this evening. Right now I'm busy."

  "You're always busy." She laughs. "See you at eight."

  "See you then."

  Why are the women in my life so nosy? Elena. My mother. Ana...I wonder for the hundredth time what she's doing. And behold, there's a response from her, at last.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Verbose?

  Date: May 31 2011 19:08 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  Sir, you are quite the loquacious writer. I have to go to dinner at Bob's golf club, and just so you know, I am rolling my eyes at the thought. But you and your twitchy palm are a long way from me so my behind is safe, for now. I loved your e-mail. Will respond when I can. I miss you already.

  Enjoy your afternoon.

  Your Ana

  It's not a "no," and she misses me. I'm relieved and amused at her tone. I respond.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Your Behind

  Date: May 31 2011 16:10

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Dear Miss Steele,

  I am distracted by the title of this e-mail. Needless to say it is safe--for now.

  Enjoy your dinner, and I miss you, too, especially your behind and your smart mouth.

  My afternoon will be dull, brightened only by thoughts of you and your eye rolling. I think it was you who so judiciously pointed out to me that I, too, suffer from that nasty habit.

  Christian Grey

  CEO & Eye Roller,

  Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  A few minutes later her reply pings into my inbox.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Eye Rolling

  Date: May 31 2011 19:14 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  Dear Mr. Grey,

  Stop emailing me. I am trying to get ready for dinner. You are very distracting, even when you are on the other side of the continent. And yes--who spanks you when you roll your eyes?

  Your Ana

  Oh, Ana, you do.

  All the time.

  I remember her telling me to keep still and tugging my pubic hair while she was sitting astride me, naked. The thought is arousing.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Your Behind

  Date: May 31 2011 16:18

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Dear Miss Steele,

  I still prefer my title to yours, in so many different ways. It is lucky that I am master of my own destiny and no one castigates me. Except my mother, occasionally, and Dr. Flynn, of course. And you.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  I find myself drumming my fingers, waiting for her reply.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Chastising...Me?

  Date: May 31 2011 19:22 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  Dear Sir,

  When have I ever plucked up the nerve to chastise you, Mr. Grey? I think you are mixing me up with someone else...which is very worrying. I really do have to get ready.

  Your Ana

  You. You chastise me via e-mail at every opportunity--and how could I ever mix you up with anyone else?

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Your Behind

  Date: May 31 2011 16:25

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Dear Miss Steele,

  You do it all the time in print. Can I zip up your dress?

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: NC-17

  Date: May 31 2011 19:28 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  I would rather you unzipped it.

  Her words travel directly to my dick, passing "Go" on the way.

  Fuck.

  This calls for--what did she call them? SHOUTY CAPITALS.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Careful what you wish for...

  Date: May 31 2011 16:31

  To: Anastasia Steele

  SO WOULD I.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Panting

  Date: May 31 2011 19:33 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  Slowly...

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Groaning

  Date: May 31 2011 16:35

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Wish I were there.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Moaning

  Date: May 31 2011 19:37 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  SO DO I.

  Who else can turn me on via e-mail?

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Moaning

  Date: May 31 2011 19:39 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  Gotta go.

  Laters, baby.

  I smirk at her words.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Plagiarism

  Date: May 31 2011 16:41

  To: Anastasia Steele

  You stole my line.

  And left me hanging.

  Enjoy your dinner.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  Andrea knocks on the door with new schematics from Barney for the solar-power tablet we're developing. She's startled that I'm pleased to see her. "Thanks, Andrea."

  "You're most welcome, Mr. Grey." She gives me a curious smile. "Would you like some coffee?"

  "Please."

  "Milk?"

  "No thanks."

  MY DAY HAS IMPROVED immensely. I have knocked Bastille on his ass twice in our two rounds of kickboxing. That never happens. As I slip on my jacket after my shower, I feel ready to face Elena and all her questions.

  Taylor appears. "Would you like me to drive, sir?"

  "No. I'll take the R8."

  "Very good, sir."

  Before I leave I check my e-mail.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Who are you to cry thief?

  Date: May 31 2011 22:18 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  Sir, I think you'll find it was Elliot's
line originally.

  Hanging how?

  Your Ana

  Is she flirting with me? Again?

  And she's my Ana. Again.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Unfinished Business Date: May 31 2011 19:22

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Miss Steele,

  You're back. You left so suddenly--just when things were getting interesting.

  Elliot's not very original. He must have stolen that line from someone.

  How was dinner?

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  I press send.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Unfinished Business?

  Date: May 31 2011 22:26 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  Dinner was filling--you'll be very pleased to hear I ate far too much.

  Getting interesting? How?

  I'm glad she's eating...

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Unfinished Business--Definitely Date: May 31 2011 19:30

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Are you being deliberately obtuse? I think you'd just asked me to unzip your dress.

  And I was looking forward to doing just that. I am also glad to hear you are eating.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Well...There's Always the Weekend Date: May 31 2011 22:36 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  Of course I eat...It's only the uncertainty I feel around you that puts me off my food.

  And I would never be unwittingly obtuse, Mr. Grey.

  Surely you've worked that out by now. ;)

  She loses appetite around me? That's not good. And she's making fun of me. Again.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Can't Wait

  Date: May 31 2011 19:40

  To: Anastasia Steele

  I shall remember that, Miss Steele, and no doubt use the knowledge to my advantage.

  I'm sorry to hear that I put you off your food. I thought I had a more concupiscent effect on you. That has been my experience, and most pleasurable it has been, too.

  I very much look forward to the next time.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Gymnastic Linguistics Date: May 31 2011 22:36 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  Have you been playing with the thesaurus again?

  I hoot with laughter.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey Subject: Rumbled

  Date: May 31 2011 19:40

  To: Anastasia Steele

  You know me so well, Miss Steele.

  I am having dinner with an old friend now so I will be driving.

  Laters, baby(c).

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  As much as I'd like to keep up the banter with Ana, I don't want to be late for dinner. If I were, Elena would be displeased. I power down my computer, collect my wallet and phone, and take the elevator to the garage.

  THE MILE HIGH CLUB is on the penthouse floor of Columbia Tower. The sun is sinking toward the peaks of Olympic National Park, coloring the sky with an impressive fusion of oranges, pinks, and opals. It's stunning. Ana would love this view. I should bring her here.

  Elena is seated at a corner table. She gives me a small wave and a big smile. The maitre d' escorts me to her table, and she rises, presenting her cheek to me.

  "Hello, Christian," she purrs.

  "Good evening, Elena. You're looking great, as usual." I kiss her cheek. She tosses her sleek platinum hair to one side, which she does when she's feeling playful.

  "Sit," she says. "What would you like to drink?" Her fingers and her trademark scarlet fingernails are wrapped around a champagne flute.

  "I see you've started on the Cristal."

  "Well, I think we've got something to celebrate, don't you?"

  "We do?"

  "Christian. This girl. Spill the beans."

  "I'll have a glass of the Mendocino sauvignon blanc," I tell the hovering waiter. He nods and hurries off.

  "So, not a cause for celebration?" Elena takes a sip of her champagne, eyebrows raised.

  "I don't know why you're making such a big deal of this."

  "I'm not making a big deal. I'm curious. How old is she? What does she do?"

  "She's just graduated."

  "Oh. A little young for you?"

  I arch a brow. "Really? You're going to go there?"

  Elena laughs.

  "How is Isaac?" I ask with a smirk.

  She laughs again. "Behaving." Her eyes sparkle with mischief.

  "How boring for you." My voice is dry.

  She smiles, resigned. "He's a good pet. Shall we order?"

  HALFWAY THROUGH THE CRAB chowder I put Elena out of her misery.

  "Her name is Anastasia, she studied literature at WSU, and I met her when she came to interview me for the student newspaper. I gave the commencement address this year."

  "Is she in the lifestyle?"

  "Not yet. But I'm hopeful."

  "Wow."

  "Yeah. She's escaped to Georgia to think it through."

  "That's a long way to go."

  "I know." I look down at my chowder, wondering how Ana is and what she's doing; sleeping, I hope...alone. When I raise my head Elena is studying me. Intently.

  "I haven't seen you like this," she says.

  "What do you mean?"

  "You're distracted. That's not like you."

  "Is it that obvious?"

  She nods, her eyes softening. "Obvious to me. I think she's turned your world upside down."

  I inhale sharply but hide the fact by raising my glass to my lips.

  Perceptive, Mrs. Lincoln.

  "You think?" I murmur after my sip.

  "I think," she says, her eyes searching mine.

  "She's very disarming."

  "I'm sure that's novel. And I bet you're worrying about what she's doing in Georgia, what she's thinking. I know how you are."

  "Yes. I want her to make the right decision."

  "You should go and see her."

  "What?"

  "Get on a plane."

  "Really?"

  "If she's undecided. Go use your considerable charm."

  My snort is derisive.

  "Christian," she scolds, "when you want something badly enough, you go after it and you always win. You know that. You're so negative about yourself. Drives me crazy."

  I sigh. "I'm not sure."

  "The poor girl is probably bored to tears down there. Go. You'll get your answer. If it's no, you can move on, if it's yes, you can enjoy being yourself with her."

  "She's back Friday."

  "Seize the day, my dear."

  "She did say she missed me."

  "There you go." Her eyes flash with certainty.

  "I'll think about it. More champagne?"

  "Please," she says, and gives me a girlish grin.

  DRIVING BACK TO ESCALA, I contemplate Elena's advice. I could go to see Ana. She said she's missed me...the jet's available.

  Back home I read her latest e-mail.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Suitable Dinner Companions Date: May 31 2011 23:58 EST

  To: Christian Grey

  I hope you and your friend had a very pleasant dinner.

  Ana

  P.S. Was it Mrs. Robinson?

  Shit.

  This is the perfect excuse. This is going to need an answer in person.

  I buzz Taylor and tell him I'm going to need Stephan and the Gulfstream in the morning.

  "Very good, Mr. Grey. Where are you going?"

  "We're going to Savannah."

  "Yes, sir." And there's a hint of amusement in his voice.

  WEDNESDAY, JUNE 1, 2
011

  * * *

  It's been an interesting morning. We left Boeing Field at 11:30 PST; Stephan is flying with his first officer, Jill Beighley, and we're due to arrive in Georgia at 19:30 EST.

  Bill has managed to arrange a meeting with the Savannah Brownfield Redevelopment Authority tomorrow, and I might be meeting them for a drink this evening. So if Anastasia is otherwise occupied, or doesn't want to see me, the journey won't be a complete waste of time.

  Yeah, yeah. Tell yourself that, Grey.

  Taylor has joined me for a light lunch and is now sorting through some paperwork, and I have a whole lot of reading to do.

  The only part of the equation I've yet to solve is arranging to see Ana. I'll see how that goes once I arrive in Savannah; I'm hoping some inspiration will come to me on the flight.

  I run my hand through my hair, and for the first time in a long while I lie back and doze as the G550 cruises at thirty thousand feet, bound for Savannah/Hilton Head International. The drone of the engines is soothing, and I'm tired. So tired.

  That would be the nightmares, Grey.

  I don't know why they are worse at the moment. I close my eyes.

  "This is how you will be with me. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Ma'am."

  She runs a scarlet fingernail across my chest.

  I flinch and pull against the restraints as the darkness surfaces, burning my skin in the wake of her touch. But I don't make a sound.

  I don't dare.

  "If you behave, I'll let you come. In my mouth."

  Fuck.

  "But not yet. We've got a long way to go before then."

  Her fingernail blazes down my skin, from the top of my sternum to my navel.

  I want to scream.

  She grabs my face, squeezing open my mouth, and kisses me.

  Her tongue demanding and wet.

  She brandishes the leather flogger.

  And I know this will be tough to endure.

  But I have my eye on the prize. Her fucking mouth.

  As the first lash falls and blisters across my skin, I welcome the pain and the endorphin rush.

  "Mr. Grey, we'll be landing in twenty minutes," Taylor informs me, startling me awake. "Are you okay, sir?"

  "Yeah. Sure. Thanks."

  "Would you like some water?"

  "Please." I take a deep breath to bring my heart rate down, and Taylor passes me a glass of cold Evian. I take a welcome sip, glad that it's just Taylor on board. It's not often I dream about my heady days with Mrs. Lincoln.