I shudder.
Don’t go there, Grey.
I open the book and start to read.
MONDAY, MAY 23, 2011
It’s after one in the morning when I go to bed. Staring at the ceiling, I’m tired, relaxed, but also excited, anticipating what the week will bring. I hope to have a new project: Miss Anastasia Steele.
MY FEET POUND THE sidewalk on Main Street as I run toward the river. It’s 6:35 in the morning and the sun’s rays are shimmering through the high-rise buildings. The sidewalk trees are newly green with spring leaves; the air is clean, the traffic quiet. I’ve slept well. “O Fortuna” from Orff’s Carmina Burana is blaring in my ears. Today the streets are paved with possibility.
Will she respond to my e-mail?
It’s too early, far too early for any response, but feeling lighter than I have for weeks, I run past the statue of the elk and toward the Willamette.
BY 7:45 I’M IN front of my laptop, having showered and ordered breakfast. I e-mail Andrea to let her know I’ll be working from Portland for the week and to ask her to reschedule any meetings so that they can take place by phone or videoconference. I e-mail Gail to let her know I won’t be home until Thursday evening at the earliest. Then I work through my inbox and find among other things a proposal for a joint venture with a shipyard in Taiwan. I forward it to Ros to add to the agenda of items we need to discuss.
Then I turn to my other outstanding matter: Elena. She’s texted me a couple of times over the weekend and I’ve not replied.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: The Weekend
Date: May 23 2011 08:15
To: Elena Lincoln
Good morning, Elena.
Sorry not to get back to you. I’ve been busy all weekend, and I’ll be in Portland all this week. I don’t know about next weekend, either, but if I’m free, I’ll let you know.
Latest results for the beauty business look promising.
Good going, Ma’am…
Best
C
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I press send, wondering again what Elena would make of Ana…and vice versa. There’s a ping from my laptop as a new e-mail arrives.
It’s from Ana.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Your New Computer (on loan)
Date: May 23 2011 08:20
To: Christian Grey
I slept very well, thank you—for some strange reason—Sir.
I understood that this computer was on loan, ergo not mine.
Ana
“Sir” with a capital S; the girl has been reading, and possibly researching. And she’s still talking to me. I grin stupidly at the e-mail. This is good news. Though she is also telling me that she doesn’t want the computer.
Well, that’s frustrating.
I shake my head, amused.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your New Computer (on loan)
Date: May 23 2011 08:22
To: Anastasia Steele
The computer is on loan. Indefinitely, Miss Steele.
I note from your tone that you have read the documentation I gave you.
Do you have any questions so far?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I hit send. How long will it be before she responds? I resume reading my e-mail as a distraction while I wait for her reply. There’s an executive summary from Fred, the head of my telecom division, about the development of our solar-powered tablet—one of my pet projects. It’s ambitious but few of my business ventures matter more than this one and I’m excited about it. Bringing affordable first world technology to the third world is something I’m determined to do.
There’s a ping from my computer.
Another e-mail from Miss Steele.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Inquiring Minds
Date: May 23 2011 08:25
To: Christian Grey
I have many questions, but not suitable for e-mail, and some of us have to work for a living.
I do not want or need a computer indefinitely.
Until later, good day. Sir.
Ana
The tone of her e-mail makes me smile, but it seems she’s off to work, so this might be the last one for a while. Her reluctance to accept the damned computer is annoying. But I suppose it shows she’s not acquisitive. She’s no gold digger—rare among the women I’ve known…yet Leila was the same.
“Sir, I am not deserving of this beautiful dress.”
“You are. Take it. And I’ll not hear another word on this. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. And the style will suit you.”
Ah, Leila. She was a good submissive, but she became too attached and I was the wrong man. Fortunately, that wasn’t for long. She’s married now and happy. I turn my attention back to Ana’s e-mail and reread.
“Some of us have to work for a living.”
The sassy wench is implying I don’t do any work.
Well to hell with that!
I spy Fred’s rather dry summary report open on my desktop and decide to set the record straight with Ana.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your New Computer (again on loan)
Date: May 23 2011 08:26
To: Anastasia Steele
Laters, baby.
P.S.: I work for a living, too.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I find it impossible to concentrate on my work, waiting for the telltale ping to announce a new e-mail from Ana. When it comes, I look up immediately—but it’s from Elena. And I’m surprised by my disappointment.
From: Elena Lincoln
Subject: The Weekend
Date: May 23 2011 08:33
To: Christian Grey
Christian, you work too hard. What’s in Portland? Work?
Ex
ELENA LINCOLN
ESCLAVA
For The Beauty That Is You™
Do I tell her? If I do, she’ll call immediately with questions, and I’m not ready to divulge my weekend experiences yet. I type her a quick e-mail saying it’s work, and get back to my reading.
Andrea calls me at nine and we run through my schedule. As I’m in Portland, I ask her to set up a meeting with the president and the AVP of economic development at WSU, to discuss the soil science project we’ve set up and their need for additional funding in the next fiscal year. She agrees to cancel all my social engagements this week, and then connects me through to my first videoconference of the day.
AT 3:00 I’M PORING over some tablet design schematics that Barney has sent me when I’m disturbed by a knock at my door. The interruption is annoying but for a moment I hope that it’s Miss Steele. It’s Taylor.
“Hello.” I hope my voice doesn’t reveal my disappointment.
“I have your clothes, Mr. Grey,” he says politely.
“Come in. Can you hang them in the closet? I’m expecting my next conference call.”
“Certainly, sir.” He hurries into the bedroom, carrying a couple of suit bags and a duffel.
When he returns I’m still waiting for my call.
“Taylor, I don’t think I’m going to need you for the next couple of days. Why don’t you take the time to see your daughter?”