Fifty Shades Darker (Fifty Shades 2) - Chapter 104

To: Christian Grey

My boss is mad.

I blame you for keeping me up late with your… shenanigans.

You should be ashamed of yourself.

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIP

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Shenaniwhatagans?

Date: June 15, 2011 09:32

To: Anastasia Steele

You don’t have to work, Anastasia.

You have no idea how appalled I am at my shenanigans.

But I like keeping you up late 😉

Please use your Blackberry.

Oh, and marry me, please.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Living to make

Date: June 15, 2011 09:35

To: Christian Grey

I know your natural inclination is toward nagging, but just stop.

I need to talk to your shrink.

Only then will I give you my answer.

I am not opposed to living in sin.

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIP

From: Christian Grey

Subject: BLACKBERRY

Date: June 15, 2011 09:40

To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia, if you are going to start discussing Dr. Flynn then USE YOUR BLACKBERRY.

This is not a request.

Christian Grey,

Now Pissed CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Oh shit. Now he’s mad at me, too. Well, he can stew for all I care. I take my Blackberry out of my purse and eye it with skepticism. As I do, it starts ringing. Can’t he leave me alone?

“Yes,” I snap.

“Ana, hi – ”

“Jose! How are you?” Oh, it’s good to hear his voice.

“I’m fine, Ana. Look, are you still seeing that Grey guy?”

“Er – yes… Why?” Where is he going with this?

“Well, he’s bought all your photos, and I thought I could deliver them up to Seattle.

The exhibition closes Thursday, so I could bring them up Friday evening and drop them off, you know. And maybe we could catch a drink or something. Actually, I was hoping for a place to crash, too.”

“Jose, that’s cool. Yeah, I’m sure we could work something out. Let me talk to Christian and call you back, okay?”

“Cool, I’ll wait to hear from you. Bye, Ana.”

“Bye.” And he’s gone.

Holy cow. I haven’t seen or heard from Jose since his show. I didn’t even ask him how it went or if he sold any more pictures. Some friend I am.

So, I could spend the evening with Jose on Friday. How will Christian like that? I become aware that I am biting my lip till it hurts. Oh, that man has double standards. He can – I shudder at the thought – bathe his batshit ex-lover, but I will probably get a truck-load of grief for wanting to have a drink with Jose. How am I going to handle this?

“Ana!” Jack pulls me abruptly out of my reverie. Is he still mad? “Where’s that letter?”

“Er – coming.” Shit. What is eating him?

I type up his letter in double-quick time, print it out, and nervously make my way into his office.

“Here you go.” I place it on his desk and turn to leave. Jack quickly casts his critical, piercing, eyes over it.

“I don’t know what you’re doing out there, but I pay you to work,” he barks.

“I’m aware of that, Jack,” I mutter apologetically. I feel a slow flush creep up my skin.

“This is full of mistakes,” he snaps. “Do it again.”

Fuck. He’s beginning to sound like someone I know, but rudeness from Christian I can tolerate. Jack is beginning to piss me off.

“And get me another coffee while you’re at it.”

“Sorry,” I whisper and scurry out of his office as quickly as I can.

Holy f**k. He’s being unbearable. I sit back down at my desk, hastily redo his letter, which had two mistakes in it, and check it thoroughly before printing. Now it’s perfect. I fetch him another coffee, letting Claire know with a roll of my eyes that I am in deep doo-doo. Taking a deep breath, I approach his office again.

“Better,” he mumbles reluctantly as he signs the letter. “Photocopy it, file the original, and mail out to all authors. Understand?”

“Yes.” I am not an idiot. “Jack, is there something wrong?”

He glances up, his blue eyes darkening as his gaze runs up and down my body. My blood chills.

“No.” His answer is concise, rude, and dismissive. I stand there like the idiot I professed not to be and then shuffle back out of his office. Perhaps he too suffers from a personality disorder. Sheesh, I’m surrounded by them. I make my way to the photocopier – which of course is suffering from a paper jam – and when I’ve fixed it, I find it’s out of paper. This is not my day.

When I am finally back at my desk, stuffing envelopes, my Blackberry buzzes. I can see through the glass wall that Jack is on the phone. I answer – it’s Ethan.

“Hi, Ana. How’d it go last night?”

Last night. A quick montage of images flashes through my mind – Christian kneeling, his revelation, his proposal, macaroni and cheese, my weeping, his nightmare, the sex, touching him…

“Eh… fine,” I mutter unconvincingly.

Ethan pauses and decides to collude in my denial. “Cool. Can I collect the keys?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be over in about half an hour. Will you have time to grab a coffee?”

“Not today. I was late getting in, and my boss is like an angry bear with a sore head and poison ivy up his ass.”

“Sounds nasty.”

“Nasty and ugly.” I giggle.

Ethan laughs and my mood lifts a little. “Okay. See you in thirty.” He hangs up.

I glance up at Jack and he’s staring at me. Oh shit. I studiously ignore him and continue to stuff envelopes.

Half an hour later my phone buzzes. It’s Claire. “He’s here again, in reception. The blond god.”