disconcerting.

“You see, Ana, men think that anything that comes out of a woman’s mouth is a prob-

lem to be solved. Not some vague idea that we’d like to kick around and talk about for a

while and then forget. Men prefer action.”

“Mom, why are telling me this?” I ask, failing to hide my exasperation. She’s been

like this all day.

“Darling, you sound so lost. You’ve never brought a boy home. You never even had a

boyfriend when we were in Vegas. I thought something might develop with that guy you

met in college, José.”

“Mom, José’s just a friend.”

“I know, sweetheart. But something’s up, and I don’t think you’re telling me every-

thing.” She gazes at me, her face etched with motherly concern.

“I just needed some distance from Christian to get my thoughts straight… that’s all.

He tends to overwhelm me.”

“Overwhelm?”

“Yeah. I miss him though.” I frown.

I have not heard from Christian all day. No emails, nothing. I am tempted to call him

to see if he’s okay. My worst fear is that he’s been in a car accident, my second worst fear is

that Mrs. Robinson has got her evil claws into him again. I know it’s irrational, but where

she’s concerned, I seem to have lost all sense of perspective.

“Darling, I have to visit the powder room.”

My mother’s brief absence allows me another chance to check my BlackBerry. I have

been trying surreptitiously to check emails all day. Finally – a response from Christian!

From:Christian Grey

Subject:Dinner Companions

Date:June 1 2011 21:40 EST

To:Anastasia Steele

Yes, I had dinner with Mrs. Robinson. She is just an old friend, Anastasia.

Looking forward to seeing you again. I miss you.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

He washaving dinner with her. My scalp prickles as adrenaline and fury lance through my

body, all my worst fears realized, crashing through me. How could he?I am away for two

days, and he runs off to that evil bitch.

From:Anastasia Steele

Subject:OLD Dinner Companions

Date:June 1 2011 21:42 EST

To:Christian Grey

She’s not just an old friend.

Has she found another adolescent boy to sink her teeth into?

Did you get too old for her?

Is that the reason your relationship finished?

I press send as my mother returns.

“Ana, you’re so pale. What’s happened?”

I shake my head.

“Nothing. Let’s have another drink,” I mutter mulishly.

Her brow furrows, but she glances up and attracts the attention of one of the waiters,

pointing to our glasses. He nods. He understands the universal language of ‘same again,

please.’ As she does, I quickly glance at my BlackBerry.

From:Christian Grey

Subject:Careful…

Date:June 1 2011 21:45 EST

To:Anastasia Steele

This is not something I wish to discuss via email.

How many Cosmopolitans are you going to drink?

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Holy fuck, he’s here.

I glance nervously around the bar but cannot see him.

“Ana, what is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s Christian, he’s here.”

“What? Really?” She glances around the bar too.

I have neglected to mention Christian’s stalker tendencies to my mom.

I see him. My heart leaps, beginning a juddering thumping beat as he makes his way

toward us. He’s really here – for me.My inner goddess leaps up cheering from her chaise

longue. Moving smoothly through the crowd, his hair glints burnished copper and red un-

der the recessed halogens. His bright gray eyes are shining with – anger? Tension? His

mouth is set in a grim line, jaw tense. Oh holy shit… no.I am so mad at him right now,

and here he is. How can I be angry with him in front of my mother?

He arrives at our table, gazing at me warily. He’s dressed in customary white linen

shirt and jeans.

“Hi,” I squeak, unable to hide my shock and awe at seeing him here in the flesh.

“Hi,” he replies, and leaning down, he kisses my cheek, taking me by surprise.

“Christian, this is my mother, Carla.” My ingrained manners take over.

He turns to greet my mom.

“Mrs. Adams, I am delighted to meet you.”

How does he know her name?He gives her the heart-stopping, Christian Grey pat-

ented, full-blown-no-prisoners-taken smile. She doesn’t have a hope. My mother’s lower

jaw practically hits the table. Jeez, get a grip Mom.She takes his proffered hand and they

shake. My mother hasn’t replied. Oh, complete dumbfounded speechlessness is genetic

– I had no idea.

“Christian,” she manages finally, breathlessly.

He smiles knowingly at her, his gray eyes twinkling. I narrow my eyes at them both.

“What are you doing here?” My question sounds more brittle than I mean, and his

smile disappears, his expression now guarded. I am thrilled to see him, but completely

thrown off balance, my anger about Mrs. Robinson simmering through my veins. I don’t

know if I want to shout at him or throw myself into his arms – but I don’t think he’d like

either – and I want to know how long he has been watching us. I’m also a little anxious

about the email I just sent him.

“I came to see you, of course.” He gazes down at me impassively. Oh, what is he think-

ing?“I’m staying in this hotel.”

“You’re staying here?” I sound like a sophomore on amphetamines, too high-pitched

even for my own ears.

“Well, yesterday you said you wished I was here.” He pauses trying to gauge my reac-

tion. “We aim to please, Miss Steele.” His voice is quiet with no trace of humor.

Crap – Is he mad?Maybe the Mrs. Robinson comments? Or the fact that I am on my

third, soon to be fourth Cosmo? My mother is glancing anxiously at the two of us.

“Won’t you join us for a drink, Christian?” She waves to the waiter who is at her side

in a nanosecond.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” Christian says. “Hendricks if you have it or Bombay Sap-

phire. Cucumber with the Hendricks, lime with the Bombay.”

Holy hell… only Christian could make a meal out of ordering a drink.

“And two more Cosmos please,” I add, looking anxiously at Christian. I am drinking

with my mother – no way can he be angry about that.

“Please pull up a chair, Christian.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Adams.”

Christian pulls a nearby chair over and sits gracefully down beside me.

“So you just happen to be staying in the hotel where we’re drinking?” I ask, trying hard

to keep my tone light.

“Or, you just happen to be drinking in the hotel where I’m staying,” Christian replies.

“I just finished dinner, came in here, and saw you. I was distracted thinking about your

most recent email, and I glance up and there you are. Quite a coincidence, eh?” He cocks

his head to one side, and I see a trace of a smile. Thank heavens– we may be able to save

the evening after all.

“My mother and I were shopping this morning and on the beach this afternoon. We

decided on a few cocktails this evening,” I mutter, feeling that I owe him some sort of

explanation.

“Did you buy that top?” He nods at my brand new green silk camisole, “The color suits