Grey
Page 117
“This is delicious,” she says.
“I like that you’re hungry.”
“Must have been all the exercise last night and the thrill this morning.”
“It was a thrill, wasn’t it?”
“It was mighty fine, Mr. Grey,” she says as she pops the final piece of pancake into her mouth. “Can I treat you?” she adds.
“Treat me how?”
“Pay for this meal.”
I snort. “I don’t think so.”
“Please. I want to.”
“Are you trying to completely emasculate me?” I raise an eyebrow in warning.
“This is probably the only place that I’ll be able to afford to pay.”
“Anastasia, I appreciate the thought. I do. But no.”
She purses her lips with irritation when I ask the redhead for the check. “Don’t scowl,” I warn, and check the time: it’s 8:30. I have a meeting at 11:15 with the Savannah Brownfield Redevelopment Authority, so unfortunately we have to get back to the city. I contemplate canceling the meeting, because I’d like to spend the day with Ana, but no, that’s too much. I’m running after this girl when I should be concentrating on my business.
Priorities, Grey.
With her hand in mine, we head to the car looking like any other couple. She’s swamped in my sweatshirt, looking casual, relaxed, beautiful—and yes, she’s with me. Three guys strolling into IHOP check her out; she’s oblivious even when I put my arm around her to stake my claim. She really has no idea how lovely she is. I open her car door and she gives me a sunny smile.
I could get used to this.
I program her mother’s address into the GPS and we set off north on I-95, listening to the Foo Fighters. Ana’s feet tap to the beat. This is the sort of music she likes—all-American rock. The traffic on the freeway is heavier now, with commuters heading into the city. But I don’t care: I like being here with her, spending time. Holding her hand, touching her knee, watching her smile. She tells me about previous visits to Savannah; she’s not keen on the heat, either, but her eyes light up when she talks about her mother. It’ll be interesting to see her interacting with her mother and stepfather this evening.
I pull up outside her mother’s home with some regret. I wish we could play hooky all day; the last twelve hours have been…nice.
More than nice, Grey. Sublime.
“Do you want to come in?” she asks.
“I need to work, Anastasia, but I’ll be back this evening. What time?”
She suggests seven, then looks from her hands to me, her eyes bright and joyful. “Thank you…for the more.”
“My pleasure, Anastasia.” I lean over and kiss her, inhaling her sweet, sweet scent.
“I’ll see you later.”
“Try to stop me,” I whisper.
She climbs out of the car, still in my sweatshirt, and waves good-bye. I head back to the hotel, feeling a little emptier now that she’s not with me.
IN MY ROOM, I call Taylor.
“Mr. Grey.”
“Yeah…thanks for organizing this morning.”
“You’re most welcome, sir.” He sounds surprised.
“I’ll be ready to leave at ten forty-five for the meeting.”
“I’ll have the Suburban waiting outside.”
“Thanks.”
I change out of my jeans and into my suit but leave my favorite tie beside my laptop as I order up coffee from room service.
I work through my e-mails, drink coffee, and consider calling Ros; however, it’s too early for her. I read through all the paperwork that Bill has sent: Savannah does make a good case for siting the plant here. I check my inbox, and there’s a new message from Ana.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Soaring as Opposed to Sore-ing
Date: June 2 2011 10:20 EST
To: Christian Grey
Sometimes, you really know how to show a girl a good time.
Thank you
Ana x
The title makes me laugh and the kiss makes me feel ten feet tall. I type up my response.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Soaring vs Sore-ing
Date: June 2 2011 10:24 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
I’ll take either of those over your snoring. I had a good time, too.
But I always do when I’m with you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Her answer is almost immediate.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: SNORING
Date: June 2 2011 10:26 EST
To: Christian Grey
I DO NOT SNORE. And if I do, it’s very ungallant of you to point it out.
You are no gentleman, Mr. Grey! And you are in the Deep South, too!
Ana
I chuckle.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Somniloquy
Date: June 2 2011 10:28 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
I have never claimed to be a gentleman, Anastasia, and I think I have demonstrated that point to you on numerous occasions. I am not intimidated by your SHOUTY capitals. But I will confess to a small white lie: no—you don’t snore, but you do talk. And it’s fascinating.
What happened to my kiss?
Christian Grey
Cad & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
This will drive her crazy.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Spill the Beans
Date: June 2 2011 10:32 EST
To: Christian Grey
You are a cad and a scoundrel—definitely no gentleman.
So, what did I say? No kisses for you until you talk!
Oh, this could run and run…
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Sleeping Talking Beauty
Date: June 2 2011 10:35 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
It would be most ungallant of me to say, and I have already been chastised for that.
But if you behave yourself, I may tell you this evening. I do have to go into a meeting now.
Laters, baby.
Christian Grey
CEO, Cad & Scoundrel, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
With a broad grin I slip on my tie, grab my jacket, and head downstairs to find Taylor.
JUST OVER AN HOUR later, I’m winding up my meeting with the Savannah Brownfield Redevelopment Authority. Georgia has a great deal to offer, and the team has promised GEH some serious tax incentives. There’s a knock at the door and Taylor enters the small conference room. His face looks grim, but what’s more worrying is that he never, ever interrupts my meetings. My scalp prickles.
“I like that you’re hungry.”
“Must have been all the exercise last night and the thrill this morning.”
“It was a thrill, wasn’t it?”
“It was mighty fine, Mr. Grey,” she says as she pops the final piece of pancake into her mouth. “Can I treat you?” she adds.
“Treat me how?”
“Pay for this meal.”
I snort. “I don’t think so.”
“Please. I want to.”
“Are you trying to completely emasculate me?” I raise an eyebrow in warning.
“This is probably the only place that I’ll be able to afford to pay.”
“Anastasia, I appreciate the thought. I do. But no.”
She purses her lips with irritation when I ask the redhead for the check. “Don’t scowl,” I warn, and check the time: it’s 8:30. I have a meeting at 11:15 with the Savannah Brownfield Redevelopment Authority, so unfortunately we have to get back to the city. I contemplate canceling the meeting, because I’d like to spend the day with Ana, but no, that’s too much. I’m running after this girl when I should be concentrating on my business.
Priorities, Grey.
With her hand in mine, we head to the car looking like any other couple. She’s swamped in my sweatshirt, looking casual, relaxed, beautiful—and yes, she’s with me. Three guys strolling into IHOP check her out; she’s oblivious even when I put my arm around her to stake my claim. She really has no idea how lovely she is. I open her car door and she gives me a sunny smile.
I could get used to this.
I program her mother’s address into the GPS and we set off north on I-95, listening to the Foo Fighters. Ana’s feet tap to the beat. This is the sort of music she likes—all-American rock. The traffic on the freeway is heavier now, with commuters heading into the city. But I don’t care: I like being here with her, spending time. Holding her hand, touching her knee, watching her smile. She tells me about previous visits to Savannah; she’s not keen on the heat, either, but her eyes light up when she talks about her mother. It’ll be interesting to see her interacting with her mother and stepfather this evening.
I pull up outside her mother’s home with some regret. I wish we could play hooky all day; the last twelve hours have been…nice.
More than nice, Grey. Sublime.
“Do you want to come in?” she asks.
“I need to work, Anastasia, but I’ll be back this evening. What time?”
She suggests seven, then looks from her hands to me, her eyes bright and joyful. “Thank you…for the more.”
“My pleasure, Anastasia.” I lean over and kiss her, inhaling her sweet, sweet scent.
“I’ll see you later.”
“Try to stop me,” I whisper.
She climbs out of the car, still in my sweatshirt, and waves good-bye. I head back to the hotel, feeling a little emptier now that she’s not with me.
IN MY ROOM, I call Taylor.
“Mr. Grey.”
“Yeah…thanks for organizing this morning.”
“You’re most welcome, sir.” He sounds surprised.
“I’ll be ready to leave at ten forty-five for the meeting.”
“I’ll have the Suburban waiting outside.”
“Thanks.”
I change out of my jeans and into my suit but leave my favorite tie beside my laptop as I order up coffee from room service.
I work through my e-mails, drink coffee, and consider calling Ros; however, it’s too early for her. I read through all the paperwork that Bill has sent: Savannah does make a good case for siting the plant here. I check my inbox, and there’s a new message from Ana.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Soaring as Opposed to Sore-ing
Date: June 2 2011 10:20 EST
To: Christian Grey
Sometimes, you really know how to show a girl a good time.
Thank you
Ana x
The title makes me laugh and the kiss makes me feel ten feet tall. I type up my response.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Soaring vs Sore-ing
Date: June 2 2011 10:24 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
I’ll take either of those over your snoring. I had a good time, too.
But I always do when I’m with you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Her answer is almost immediate.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: SNORING
Date: June 2 2011 10:26 EST
To: Christian Grey
I DO NOT SNORE. And if I do, it’s very ungallant of you to point it out.
You are no gentleman, Mr. Grey! And you are in the Deep South, too!
Ana
I chuckle.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Somniloquy
Date: June 2 2011 10:28 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
I have never claimed to be a gentleman, Anastasia, and I think I have demonstrated that point to you on numerous occasions. I am not intimidated by your SHOUTY capitals. But I will confess to a small white lie: no—you don’t snore, but you do talk. And it’s fascinating.
What happened to my kiss?
Christian Grey
Cad & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
This will drive her crazy.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Spill the Beans
Date: June 2 2011 10:32 EST
To: Christian Grey
You are a cad and a scoundrel—definitely no gentleman.
So, what did I say? No kisses for you until you talk!
Oh, this could run and run…
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Sleeping Talking Beauty
Date: June 2 2011 10:35 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
It would be most ungallant of me to say, and I have already been chastised for that.
But if you behave yourself, I may tell you this evening. I do have to go into a meeting now.
Laters, baby.
Christian Grey
CEO, Cad & Scoundrel, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
With a broad grin I slip on my tie, grab my jacket, and head downstairs to find Taylor.
JUST OVER AN HOUR later, I’m winding up my meeting with the Savannah Brownfield Redevelopment Authority. Georgia has a great deal to offer, and the team has promised GEH some serious tax incentives. There’s a knock at the door and Taylor enters the small conference room. His face looks grim, but what’s more worrying is that he never, ever interrupts my meetings. My scalp prickles.
