Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 177137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 886(@200wpm)___ 709(@250wpm)___ 590(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 886(@200wpm)___ 709(@250wpm)___ 590(@300wpm)
Fred’s revised proposal for Kavanagh Media is open on my desktop, but I’m preoccupied and finding it hard to concentrate. Time is moving on and I’ve not heard from Anastasia; as ever, I’m waiting for Miss Steele. I check my e-mail once more.
Nothing.
I check my phone for texts.
Nothing.
What’s keeping her? I hope it’s not her boss.
There’s a knock on my door.
What now?
“Come in.”
Andrea’s replacement pokes her head around the door and, ping, there’s an e-mail, but it’s not from Ana.
“What?” I bark, trying to remember the woman’s name.
She’s unfazed. “I’m just about to leave, Mr. Grey. Mr. Taylor left this for you.” She holds up an envelope.
“Just leave it on the console there.”
“Do you need me for anything else?”
“No. Go. Thanks.” I give her a thin smile.
“Have a good weekend then, sir,” she offers, simpering.
Oh, I fully intend to.
I dismiss her, but she doesn’t leave. She pauses for a moment, and I realize she’s expecting something from me.
What?
“I’ll see you Monday,” she says with an annoying, nervous giggle.
“Yes. Monday. Shut the door behind you.”
Looking a little crestfallen, she does as she’s told.
What was that about?
I pick up the envelope from the console. It’s the key to Ana’s Audi, and written in Taylor’s tidy hand are the words: Parked in allocated parking space at rear of apartment building.
Back at my desk, I turn my attention to my e-mails, and finally there’s one from Ana. I grin like the Cheshire Cat.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: You’ll Fit Right In
Date: June 10 2011 17:36
To: Christian Grey
We are going to a bar called Fifty’s.
The rich seam of humor that I could mine from this is endless.
I look forward to seeing you there, Mr. Grey.
A. x
Is this a reference to fifty shades?
Weird. Is she making fun of me?
Okay. Let’s have some fun with this.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Hazards
Date: June 10 2011 17:38
To: Anastasia Steele
Mining is a very, very dangerous occupation.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Let’s see what she makes of that.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Hazards?
Date: June 10 2011 17:40
To: Christian Grey
And your point is?
So obtuse, Anastasia? That’s not like you. But I don’t want to fight.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Merely…
Date: June 10 2011 17:42
To: Anastasia Steele
Making an observation, Miss Steele.
I’ll see you shortly.
Sooners rather than laters, baby.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Now that she’s been in contact, I relax and concentrate on the Kavanagh proposal. It’s good. I send it back to Fred and tell him to send it on to Kavanagh. Idly I speculate whether Kavanagh Media might be ripe for a takeover. It’s a thought. I wonder what Ros and Marco would say. I shelve the idea for now and head down to the lobby, texting Taylor to let him know where I’m meeting Ana.
50’S IS A SPORTS bar. It’s vaguely familiar, and I realize I’ve been here before with Elliot. But then Elliot is a jock, a real guy’s guy, who’s the life and soul of any party. This is his type of place, a shrine to team sports. I was too hotheaded to play on a team at any of my schools. I preferred more solitary pursuits like sculling and full-contact sports like kickboxing, where I could kick the shit out of someone…or have the shit kicked out of me.
Inside, it’s crowded with young office workers starting their weekends with a quick drink or five, and it takes me only two seconds to spot her by the bar.
Ana.
And he’s there. Hyde. Crowding her.
Asshole.
Her shoulders are tense. She’s obviously uncomfortable.
Fuck him.
With great effort I keep my walk casual, trying to maintain my cool. When I’m by her side, I drape my arm over her shoulder and pull her toward me, freeing her from his unwanted advances.
I kiss her, just behind her ear. “Hello, baby,” I whisper into her hair. She melts against me as the asshole stands taller, appraising me. I want to rip the “fuck you” expression off his rugged, smug face, but I deliberately ignore him to focus on my girl.
Hey, baby. Is this guy bothering you?
She beams at me. Eyes shining, lips moist, her hair cascading over her shoulders. She’s wearing the blue blouse that Taylor bought her, and it complements her eyes and skin. Leaning in, I kiss her. Her cheeks color, but she turns to the asshole who’s taken the hint and stepped back a little.
“Jack, this is Christian. Christian, Jack,” she says, waving between us.
“I’m the boyfriend,” I state, so there’s no confusion, and hold out my hand to Hyde.
See. I can play nice.
“I’m the boss,” he responds as we shake. His grip is tight, so I tighten mine.
Keep your hands off my girl.
“Ana did mention an ex-boyfriend,” he says, with a patronizing drawl.
“Well, no longer ex.” I give him a slight fuck-off smile. “Come on, baby, time to go.”
“Please, stay and join us for a drink,” Hyde says, emphasizing the word “us.”