Chapter Twenty-Four #4
“Pay for this meal.”
Christian snorts. “I don’t think so,” he scoffs.
“Please. I want to.”
He frowns at me. “Are you trying to completely emasculate me?”
“This is probably the only place that I’ll be able to afford to pay.”
“Anastasia, I appreciate the thought. I do. But no.”
I purse my lips.
“Don’t scowl,” he warns, his eyes glinting ominously.
Of course he doesn’t ask me for my mother’s address. He knows it already, stalker that he is. When he pulls up outside her house, I don’t comment. What’s the point?
“Do you want to come in?” I ask shyly.
“I need to work, Anastasia, but I’ll be back this evening. What time?”
I ignore the unwelcome stab of disappointment. Why do I want to spend every single minute with this controlling sex god? Oh yes, I’ve fallen in love with him, and he can fly.
“Thank you…for the more.”
“My pleasure, Anastasia.” He kisses me, and I inhale his sexy Christian smell.
“I’ll see you later.”
“Try to stop me,” he whispers.
I wave goodbye as he drives off into the Georgia sunshine. I’m still wearing his sweatshirt and his underwear, and I’m too warm.
In the kitchen, my mom is in a complete flap. It’s not every day she has to entertain a multi-zillionaire, and it’s stressing her out.
“How are you, darling?” she asks, and I flush because she must know what I was doing last night.
“I’m good. Christian took me gliding this morning.” I hope the new information will distract her.
“Gliding? As in a small plane with no engine? That sort of gliding?”
I nod.
“Wow.”
She’s speechless—a novel concept for my mother. She gapes at me but eventually recovers herself and resumes her original line of questioning.
“How was last night? Did you talk?”
“We talked—last night and today. It’s getting better.”
“Good.” She turns her attention back to the four cookbooks she has open on the kitchen table.
“Mom…if you like, I’ll cook this evening.”
“Oh, honey, that’s kind of you, but I want to do it.”
“Okay.” I grimace, knowing full well that my mother’s cooking is pretty hit or miss.
Perhaps she’s improved since she moved to Savannah with Bob.
There was a time I wouldn’t subject anyone to her cooking, even…
Who do I hate? Oh yes—Mrs. Robinson. Elena.
Well, maybe her. Will I ever meet this damned woman?
I decide to send a quick thank-you to Christian.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Soaring as Opposed to Sore-ing
Date: June 2 2011 10:20 ET
To: Christian Grey
Sometimes, you really know how to show a girl a good time.
Thank you
Ana x
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Soaring vs Sore-ing
Date: June 2 2011 10:24 ET
To: Anastasia Steele
I’ll take either of those over your snoring. I had a good time, too.
But I always do when I’m with you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: SNORING
Date: June 2 2011 10:26 ET
To: Christian Grey
I DO NOT SNORE. And if I do, it’s very ungallant of you to point it out.
You are no gentleman, Mr. Grey! And you are in the Deep South, too!
Ana
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Somniloquy
Date: June 2 2011 10:28 ET
To: Anastasia Steele
I have never claimed to be a gentleman, Anastasia, and I think I have demonstrated that point to you on numerous occasions. I am not intimidated by your SHOUTY capitals. But I will confess to a small white lie: no—you don’t snore, but you do talk. And it’s fascinating.
What happened to my kiss?
Christian Grey
Cad there’s a missed call from Christian. He never phones me. I call him straight back.
“Anastasia,” he answers immediately.
“Hi.”
“I have to return to Seattle. Something’s come up. I am on my way to Hilton Head now. Please apologize to your mother—I can’t make dinner.” He sounds very businesslike.
“Nothing serious, I hope?”
“I have a situation I have to deal with. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll send Taylor to meet you at Sea-Tac if I can’t come myself.” He sounds cold. Angry even. But for the first time, I don’t immediately think it’s me.
“Okay. I hope you sort out your situation. Have a safe flight.”
“You, too, baby,” he says, and with those words, my Christian is back. Then he hangs up.
Oh no. The last “situation” he had was my virginity. I hope it’s nothing like that.
I gaze at my mom. Her earlier jubilation has metamorphosed into concern.
“It’s Christian. He’s had to go back to Seattle. He apologizes.”
“Oh! That’s a shame, darling. We can still have our barbecue, and now we have something to celebrate—your new job! You have to tell me all about it.”
It’s late afternoon, and Mom and I are lying beside the pool.
My mother has relaxed to the point where she is literally horizontal now that Mr. Megabucks is not coming to dinner.
As I lie in the sun, endeavoring to lose the pale, I think about yesterday evening and breakfast today.
I think about Christian, and my ridiculous grin refuses to subside.
It keeps creeping across my face, unbidden and disconcerting, as I recall our various conversations and what we did… what he did.
There seems to be a tidal shift in Christian’s attitude.
He denies it, but he admits he’s trying for more.
What could have changed? What has altered since he sent his long email and when I saw him yesterday?
What has he done? I sit up suddenly, almost spilling my soda. He had dinner with…her. Elena.
Holy fuck!
My scalp prickles at the realization. Did she say something to him? Oh, to have been a fly on the wall during their dinner. I could have landed in her soup or on her wineglass and choked her.
“What is it, Ana, honey?” Mom asks, startled from her torpor.
“I’m just having a moment, Mom. What time is it?”
“About six thirty p.m., darling.”
Hmm, he wouldn’t have landed yet. Can I ask him?
Should I ask him? Or perhaps she has nothing to do with it.
I fervently hope so. What did I say in my sleep?
Crap…some unguarded remark while dreaming about him, I bet.
Whatever it is, or was, I hope the sea change is coming from within him and not because of her.
I am sweltering in this damned heat. I need another dip in the pool.
As I get ready for bed, I switch on my computer. I have heard nothing from Christian. Not even a word that he’s arrived safely.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Safe Arrival?
Date: June 2 2011 22:32 ET
To: Christian Grey
Dear Sir,
Please let me know that you have arrived safely. I am starting to worry. Thinking of you.
Your Ana x
Three minutes later, I hear the ping from my email inbox.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Sorry
Date: June 2 2011 19:36
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele,
I have arrived safely, and please accept my apologies for not letting you know. I don’t want to cause you any worry. It’s heartwarming to know that you care for me. I am thinking of you, too, and as ever looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I sigh. Christian is back to formality.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: The Situation
Date: June 2 2011 22:40 ET
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey,
I think it is very evident that I care for you deeply. How could you doubt that?
I hope your “situation” is under control.
Your Ana x
P.S. Are you going to tell me what I said in my sleep?
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Pleading the Fifth
Date: June 2 2011 19:45
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele,
I like very much that you care for me. The “situation” here is not yet resolved.
With regard to your P.S., the answer is no.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Pleading Insanity
Date: June 2 2011 22:48 ET
To: Christian Grey
I hope it was amusing. But you should know I cannot accept any responsibility for what comes out of my mouth when I am unconscious. In fact—you probably misheard me.
A man of your advanced years is surely a little deaf.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Pleading Guilty
Date: June 2 2011 19:52
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele,
Sorry, could you speak up? I can’t hear you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Pleading Insanity Again
Date: June 2 2011 22:54 ET
To: Christian Grey
You are driving me crazy.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: I Hope So…
Date: June 2 2011 19:59
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele,
I intend to do exactly that on Friday evening. Looking forward to it.
;)
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Grrrrrr
Date: June 2 2011 23:02 ET
To: Christian Grey
I am officially pissed at you.
Good night.
Miss A. R. Steele
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Wild Cat
Date: June 2 2011 20:05
To: Anastasia Steele
Are you growling at me, Miss Steele?
I possess a cat of my own for growlers.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Cat of his own? I’ve never seen a cat in his apartment.
No, I am not going to answer him. Oh, he can be so exasperating sometimes.
Fifty shades of exasperating. I clamber into bed and lie glaring at the ceiling as my eyes adjust to the dark.
I hear another ping from my computer. I am not going to look.
No, definitely not. No, I am not going to look.
Gah! Like the fool I am, I cannot resist the lure of Christian Grey’s words.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: What You Said in Your Sleep
Date: June 2 2011 20:20
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia,
I’d rather hear you say the words that you uttered in your sleep when you’re conscious. That’s why I won’t tell you. Go to sleep. You’ll need to be rested with what I have in mind for you tomorrow.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Oh no. What have I said? It’s as bad as I think, I’m sure.