Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian - Chapter 162

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I don’t have to wait quite so long.

* * *

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Tomorrow

Date: June 8 2011 14:32

To: Christian Grey

José’s show starts at 7:30. What time would you suggest?

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP

We can take Charlie Tango.

* * *

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Tomorrow

Date: June 8 2011 14:34

To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Anastasia

Portland is some distance away. I shall pick you up at 5:45.

I look forward to seeing you.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Tomorrow

Date: June 8 2011 14:38

To: Christian Grey

See you then.

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP

My campaign to win her back is under way. I feel elated; the small blossom of hope is now a Japanese flowering cherry.

I buzz Andrea.

“Miss Bailey went back to her office, Mr. Grey.”

“I know, she e-mailed me. I need Taylor here in an hour.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up. Anastasia is working for a guy named Jack Hyde. I want to know more about him. I call Ros.

“Christian.” She sounds pissed. Tough.

“Do we have access to the employee files from SIP?”

“Not yet. But I can get them.”

“Please. Today if you can. I want everything they have on Jack Hyde, and anyone who’s worked for him.”

“Can I ask why?”

“No.”

She’s silent for a moment.

“Christian, I don’t know what’s got into you recently.”

“Ros, just do it, okay?”

She sighs. “Okay. Now can we have our meeting about the Taiwan shipyard proposal?”

“Yes. I had an important call to make. It took longer than I thought.”

“I’ll be right up.”

WHEN ROS LEAVES I follow her out of the office.

“WSU next Friday,” I tell Andrea, who scribbles a reminder in her notebook.

“And I get to fly in the company chopper?” Ros bubbles with enthusiasm.

“Helicopter,” I correct her.

“Whatever, Christian.” She rolls her eyes as she enters the elevator, and it makes me smile.

Andrea watches Ros leave, then gives me an expectant look.

“Call Stephan—I’ll be flying Charlie Tango to Portland tomorrow evening, and I’ll need him to fly her back to Boeing Field,” I tell Andrea.

“Yes, Mr. Grey.”

I see no sign of Olivia. “Has she gone?”

“Olivia?” Andrea asks.

I nod.

“Yes.” She seems relieved.

“Where to?”

“Finance.”

“Good thinking. It’ll keep Senator Blandino off my back.”

Andrea looks pleased at the compliment.

“You’re getting someone else to help out here?” I ask.

“Yes, sir. I’m seeing three candidates tomorrow morning.”

“Good. Is Taylor here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cancel the rest of my meetings today. I’m going out.”

“Out?” she squeaks in surprise.

“Yes.” I grin. “Out.”

“WHERE TO, SIR?” TAYLOR asks, as I stretch out in the back of the SUV.

“The Mac store.”

“On Northeast Forty-Fifth?”

“Yes.” I’m going to buy Ana an iPad. Leaning back in my seat, I close my eyes and contemplate which apps and songs I’m going to download and install for her. I could choose “Toxic.” I smirk at the thought. No, I don’t think that would be popular with her. She’d be mad as hell—and for the first time in a while the thought of her mad makes me smile. Mad like she was in Georgia, not like last Saturday. I shift in my seat; I don’t want to be reminded of that. I turn my thoughts back to potential song choices, feeling more buoyant than I have in days. My phone buzzes, and my heart rate spikes.

Dare I hope?

Hey. Asshole. Beer?

Hell. A text from my brother.

No. Busy.

You’re always busy.

Going to Barbados tomorrow.

To, you know, RELAX.

See you when I get back.

And we will have that beer!!!

Laters, Lelliot. Safe Travels.

IT’S BEEN A DIVERTING evening, filled with music—a nostalgic journey through my iTunes, making a playlist for Anastasia. I remember her dancing in my kitchen; I wish I knew what she’d been listening to. She looked totally ridiculous, and utterly adorable. That was after I fucked her for the first time.

No. After I made love to her the first time?

Neither term feels right.

I recall her impassioned plea the night I introduced her to my parents. “I want you to make love to me.” How shocked I was by her simple statement—and yet all she wanted was to touch me. I shudder at the thought. I have to make her understand that this is a hard limit for me—I cannot tolerate being touched.

I shake my head. You’re getting way ahead of yourself, Grey—you have to close this deal first. I check the inscription on the iPad.

Anastasia—this is for you.

I know what you want to hear.

This music on here says it for me.

Christian

Perhaps this will do it. She wants hearts and flowers; perhaps this will come close. But I shake my head, because I have no idea. There’s so much I want to say to her, if she’ll listen. And if she won’t, the songs will say it for me. I just hope she allows me the opportunity to give them to her.