Ray drops me back at the house at dusk.

“Call your mom,” he says.

“I will. Thanks for coming, Dad.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Annie. You make me so proud.”

Oh no.I’m not going to get emotional. A huge lump forms in my throat, and I hug

him, hard. He puts his arms around me, bemused, and I can’t help it – tears pool in my

eyes.“Hey, Annie, sweetheart,” Ray croons. “Big old day… eh? Want me to come in and

make you some tea?”

I laugh, in spite of my tears. Tea is always the answer according to Ray. I remember

my mother complaining about him, saying that when it came to tea and sympathy, he was

always good at the tea, not so hot on the sympathy.

“No, Dad, I’m good. It’s been so great to see you. I’ll visit real soon once I’m settled

in Seattle.”

“Good luck with the interviews. Let me know how they go.”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

“Love you, Annie.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

He smiles, his brown eyes warm, glowing, and he climbs back into his car. I wave him

off as he drives into the dusk, and I wander listlessly back into the apartment.

First thing I do is check my cell phone. It needs recharging, so I have to hunt down

the charger and plug it in before I can collect my messages. Four missed calls, one voice

message, and two texts. Three missed calls from Christian… no messages. One missed

call from José and a voice mail from him wishing me all the best for graduation.

I open the texts.

*Are you home safe*

*Call me*

They are both from Christian, why didn’t he call the house? I head into my bedroom

and fire up the mean machine.

From:Christian Grey

Subject:Tonight

Date:May 25 2011 23:58

To:Anastasia Steele

I hope you made it home in that car of yours.

Let me know if you’re okay.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Jeez... why is he so worried about my Beetle. It has given me three years of loyal service,

and José has always been on hand to maintain it for me. Christian’s next email is from

today.

From:Christian Grey

Subject:Soft Limits

Date:May 26 2011 17:22

To:Anastasia Steele

What can I say that I haven’t already?

Happy to talk these through anytime.

You looked beautiful today.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I want to see him. I hit reply

From:Anastasia Steele

Subject:Soft Limits

Date:May 26 2011 19:23

To:Christian Grey

I can come over this evening to discuss if you’d like.

Ana

From:Christian Grey

Subject:Soft Limits

Date:May 26 2011 19:27

To:Anastasia Steele

I’ll come to you. I meant it when I said I wasn’t happy about you driving that car.

I’ll be with you shortly.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Holy crap… he’s coming over now. I have to get one thing ready for him – the first edition

Thomas Hardy books are still on the shelves in the living room. I cannot keep them. I wrap

them in brown paper, and I scrawl on the wrapping a direct quote from Tess from the book:

“Hi.” I feel unbearably shy when I open the door. Christian is standing on the porch in his

jeans and leather jacket.

“Hi,” he says, and his face lights up with his radiant smile. I take a moment to admire

the pretty. Oh my, he’s hot in leather.

“Come in.”

“If I may,” he says amused. He holds up a bottle of champagne as he walks in. “I

thought we’d celebrate your graduation. Nothing beats a good Bollinger.”

“Interesting choice of words,” I comment dryly.

He grins.

“Oh, I like your ready wit, Anastasia.”

“We only have teacups. We’ve packed all the glasses.”

“Teacups? Sounds good to me.”

I head into the kitchen. Nervous, butterflies flooding my stomach, it’s like having a

panther or mountain lion all unpredictable and predatory in my living room.

“Do you want saucers as well?”

“Teacups will be fine, Anastasia,” Christian calls distractedly from the living room.

When I return, he’s staring at the brown parcel of books. I place the cups on the table.

“That’s for you,” I murmur anxiously.

Crap… this is probably going to be a fight.

“Hmm, I figured as much. Very apt quote.” His long index finger absently traces the

writing. “I thought I was D’Urberville, not Angel. You decided on the debasement.” He

gives me a brief wolfish smile. “Trust you to find something that resonates so appropri-

ately.”

“It’s also a plea,” I whisper. Why am I so nervous?My mouth is dry.

“A plea? For me to go easy on you?”

I nod.

“I bought these for you,” he says quietly his gaze impassive. “I’ll go easier on you if

you accept them.”

I swallow convulsively.

“Christian, I can’t accept them, they’re just too much.”

“You see, this is what I was talking about, you defying me. I want you to have them,

and that’s the end of the discussion. It’s very simple. You don’t have to think about this.

As a submissive you would just be grateful for them. You just accept what I buy you be-

cause it pleases me for you to do so.”

“I wasn’t a submissive when you bought them for me,” I whisper.

“No… but you’ve agreed, Anastasia.” His eyes turn wary.

I sigh. I am not going to win this, so over to plan B.

“So they are mine to do with as I wish?”

He eyes me suspiciously, but concedes.

“Yes.”

“In that case, I’d like to give them to a charity, one working in Darfur since that seems

to be close to your heart. They can auction them.”

“If that’s what you want to do.” His mouth sets into a hard line. He’s disappointed.

I flush.

“I’ll think about it,” I murmur, I don’t want to disappoint him, and his words come

back to me. I want you to want to please me.

“Don’t think, Anastasia. Not about this.” His tone is quiet and serious.

How can I not think? You can pretend to be a car, like his other possessions,my sub-

conscious makes an unwelcome vitriolic return. I ignore her. Oh, can’t we rewind? The

atmosphere between us is now tense. I don’t know what to do. I stare down at my fingers.

How do I retrieve this situation?

He puts the champagne bottle on the table and stands in front of me. Putting his hand

under my chin, he tilts my head up. He gazes down at me, his expression grave.

“I will buy you lots of things, Anastasia. Get used to it. I can afford it. I’m a very

wealthy man.” He leans down and plants a swift, chaste kiss on my lips. “Please.” He

releases me.

‘Ho’my subconscious mouths at me.

“It makes me feel cheap,” I murmur.

Christian runs his hand through his hair, exasperated.

“It shouldn’t. You’re over-thinking it, Anastasia. Don’t place some vague moral judg-

ment on yourself based on what others might think. Don’t waste your energy. It’s only