almost reluctantly. “No, don’t worry. You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad there’s a logical

explanation. It did seem a ridiculously low amount of money . . . I have no doubt you’ve

something evil and creative planned for your revenge. Poor Isaac.” He smiles. “Good . . .

Good-bye.” He snaps the phone shut and glances at me. His eyes are suddenly wary, but

oddly, he looks relieved, too.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“You really want to know?” he asks quietly.

And, I know. I shake my head and stare out my window at the gray Seattle day, feeling

forlorn. Why can’t she leave him alone?

“Hey.” He reaches for my hand and kisses each of my knuckles in turn, and suddenly

he’s sucking my little finger, hard. Then biting it softly.

Whoa!He has a hotline to my groin, I gasp and glance nervously at Taylor and Sawyer,

then at Christian, and his eyes are darker. He gives me a slow carnal smile.

“Don’t sweat it, Anastasia,” he murmurs. “She’s in the past.” And he plants a kiss in

the center of my palm, sending tingles everywhere, and my momentary pique is forgotten.

“Morning, Ana,” Jack mutters as I make my way to my desk. “Nice dress.”

I flush. The dress is part of my new wardrobe, courtesy of my incredibly rich boy-

friend. It’s a sleeveless shift dress of pale blue linen, quite fitted, and I’m wearing cream

high-heeled sandals. Christian likes heels, I think. I smile secretly at the thought but quick-

ly recover my bland professional smile for my boss.

“Good morning, Jack.”

I set about ordering a messenger to take his brochure to the printers. He pops his head

around his office door.

“Could I have a coffee, please, Ana?”

“Sure.” I wander into the kitchen and bump into Claire from reception, who is also

fixing coffee.

“Hey, Ana,” she says cheerfully.

“Hi, Claire.”

We chat briefly about her extended-family gathering over the weekend, which she en-

joyed immensely, and I tell her about sailing with Christian.

“Your boyfriend is so dreamy, Ana,” she says, her eyes glazing over.

I am tempted to roll my eyes at her.

“He’s not bad-looking,” I smile and we both start laughing.

“You took your time!” Jack snaps when I bring in his coffee.

Oh!“I’m sorry.” I flush then frown. I took the usual amount of time. What’s his prob-

lem? Perhaps he’s nervous about something.

He shakes his head. “Sorry, Ana. I didn’t mean to bark at you, honey.”

Honey?

“There’s something going on at senior management level, and I don’t know what it is.

Keep your ear to the ground, okay? If you hear anything—I know how you girls talk.” He

grins at me, and I feel slightly sick. He has no idea how we “girls” talk. Besides, I know

what’s happening.

“You’ll let me know, right?”

“Sure,” I mutter. “I’ve sent the brochure to the printers. It will be back by two o’clock.”

“Great. Here.” He hands me a pile of manuscripts. “All these need synopses of the first

chapter, then filing.”

“I’ll get on it.”

I am relieved to step out of his office and sit down at my desk. Oh, it’s hard being in

the know. What will he do when he finds out? My blood runs cold. Something tells me Jack

will be annoyed. I glance at my Blackberry and smile. There’s an e-mail from Christian.

From:Christian Grey

Subject:Sunrise

Date:June 14, 2011 09:23

To:Anastasia Steele

I love waking up to you in the morning.

Christian Grey

Completely & Utterly Smitten CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I think my face splits in two with my grin, and my inner goddess back-flips over her chaise

longue.

From:Anastasia Steele

Subject:Sundown

Date:June 14, 2011 09:35

To:Christian Grey

Dear Completely & Utterly Smitten

I love waking up to you, too. But I love being in bed with you and in elevators and on

pianos and billiard tables and boats and desks and showers and bathtubs and strange

wooden crosses with shackles and four-poster beds with red satin sheets and boathous-

es and childhood bedrooms.

Yours

Sex Mad and Insatiable xx

From:Christian Grey

Subject:Wet Hardware

Date:June 14, 2011 09:37

To:Anastasia Steele

Dear Sex Mad and Insatiable

I’ve just spat coffee all over my keyboard.

I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.

I do admire a woman who concentrates on geography.

Am I to infer you just want me for my body?

Christian Grey

Completely & Utterly Shocked CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From:Anastasia Steele

Subject:Giggling—and wet too

Date:June 14, 2011: 09:42

To:Christian Grey

Dear Completely & Utterly Shocked

Always.

I have work to do.

Stop bothering me.

SM&I xx

From:Christian Grey

Subject:Do I have to?

Date:June 14, 2011 09:50

To:Anastasia Steele

Dear SM&I

As ever, your wish is my command.

Love that you are giggling and wet.

Laters, baby.

x

Christian Grey,

Completely & Utterly Smitten, Shocked and Spellbound CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings

Inc.

I put the Blackberry down and get on with my work.

At lunchtime, Jack asks me to go down to the deli for his lunch. I call Christian as soon as

I leave Jack’s office.

“Anastasia.” He answers immediately, his voice warm and caressing. How is it that this

man can make me melt over the phone?

“Christian, Jack has asked me to get his lunch.”

“Lazy bastard,” Christian gripes.

I ignore him and continue. “So I’m going to get it. It might be handy if you gave me

Sawyer’s number, so I don’t have to bother you.”

“It’s no bother, baby.”

“Are you on your own?”

“No. There are six people staring at me at the moment wondering who the hell I’m

talking to.”

Shit . . .“Really?” I gasp, panicked.

“Yes. Really. My girlfriend,” he announces away from the phone.

Holy cow!“They probably all thought you were gay, you know.”

He laughs. “Yeah, probably.” I hear his grin.

“Er—I’d better go.” I am sure he can tell how embarrassed I am to be interrupting him.

“I’ll let Sawyer know.” He laughs again. “Have you heard from your friend?”

“Not yet. You’ll be the first to know, Mr. Grey.”

“Good. Laters, baby.”

“Bye, Christian.” I grin. Every time he says that, it makes me smile . . . so un-Fifty, but

somehow so him, too.

When I exit moments later, Sawyer is waiting on the doorstep of the building.

“Miss Steele,” he greets me formally.

“Sawyer.” I nod in response and together we head down to the deli.

I don’t feel as comfortable with Sawyer as I do with Taylor. He continually scans the

street as we make our way along the block. It actually makes me more nervous, and I find

myself mirroring his actions.

Is Leila out there? Or are we all infected by Christian’s paranoia? Is this part of his fifty

shades? What I’d give for half an hour of candid discussion with Dr. Flynn, to find out.

There’s nothing amiss, just lunchtime Seattle—people rushing for lunch, shopping,