My phone buzzes. It’s a text from my mother.
GRACE
Darling, it was so lovely to see you and Anastasia last night.
As ever, thank you, and Ana, for your generosity.
Mom X
I’m still smarting over her gold-digger comments. It’s obvious she doesn’t know Ana well. But then, she’s only met Ana three times. It was Elliot who was always bringing girls around…not me. Grace couldn’t keep up.
“Elliot, darling, we get attached to them and then they’re history. It’s heartbreaking.”
“Don’t get attached.” He shrugs, chewing with his mouth open. “I don’t,” he mutters so only I can hear him.
“One day someone will break your heart, Elliot,” Grace says as she hands Mia a plate of mac and cheese.
“Whatever, Mom. At least I bring girls home.” He eyes me with disdain.
“Lots of my friends want to marry Christian. Ask them,” Mia pipes up in my defense.
Ugh. What an unpleasant thought—her poisonous little eighth-grade friends.
“Don’t you have exams to study for, douchebag?” I give Elliot the finger.
“Study. Not me, dickless. I’m out tonight,” he brags.
“Boys! Enough! This is your first night home from college. You haven’t seen each other in ages. Stop arguing. Eat up.”
I take a bite of mac and cheese. Tonight I get to see Mrs. Lincoln…
It’s 9:40 so I order breakfast for Ana and me, knowing it will take at least twenty minutes. I turn back to my e-mails and decide to ignore my mother’s text for now.
Room service arrives just after ten. I ask the young man to keep everything in the cart’s warming drawers and, after he’s set the table, I dismiss him.
Time to wake Ana.
She’s still fast asleep. Her hair is a mess of mahogany on the pillow, her skin luminous in the light, and her face soft and sweet in repose. I lie down beside her and watch her, drinking in every detail. She blinks and opens her eyes.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” She tugs the comforter up to her chin as her cheeks turn rosy. “How long have you been watching me?”
“I could watch you sleep for hours, Anastasia. But I’ve only been here about five minutes.” I kiss her temple. “Dr. Greene will be here shortly.”
“Oh.”
“Did you sleep well?” I ask. “Certainly seemed like it to me, with all that snoring.”
“I do not snore!”
I put her out of her misery, grinning. “No. You don’t.”
“Did you shower?” she asks.
“No. Waiting for you.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“What time is it?”
“Ten fifteen. I didn’t have the heart to wake you earlier.”
“You told me you didn’t have a heart at all.”
That at least is true. But I ignore her comment.
“Breakfast is here. Pancakes and bacon for you. Come, get up, I’m getting lonely out here.” I swat her behind, clamber off the bed, and leave her to get up.
In the dining room I remove the dishes from the cart and lay out the plates. I sit down and within moments my toast and scrambled eggs are history. I pour myself some coffee, wondering whether to hurry Ana along, but decide against it and open The Seattle Times.
She shuffles into the dining room wearing an oversized robe and sits down beside me.
“Eat up. You’re going to need your strength today,” I say.
“And why is that? You going to lock me in the bedroom?” she teases.
“Appealing as that idea is, I thought we’d go out today. Get some fresh air.” I’m excited about The Grace.
“Is it safe?” she quips.
“Where we’re going it is,” I mutter, unamused by her comment. “And it’s not a joking matter,” I add.
I want to keep you safe, baby.
Her mouth sets in that stubborn way she has and she stares down at her breakfast.
Eat, Ana.
As if she can read my mind, she grabs her fork and starts picking at her breakfast, allowing me to relax a little.
A few minutes later there’s a knock on the door. I glance at my watch.
“That’ll be the good doctor,” I say, and stroll to the door to answer it.
“Good morning, Dr. Greene, come in. Thank you for coming at such short notice.”
“Again, Mr. Grey, thank you for making it worth my while. Where’s the patient?” Dr. Greene is all business.
“She’s having her breakfast and will be ready in a minute. Do you want to wait in the bedroom?”
“That’ll be fine.”
I show her into the master, and soon after Ana wanders in and gives me a disapproving look. I choose to ignore it and close the door, leaving her with Dr. Greene. She can be as annoyed as she likes, but she stopped taking her pills. And she knows I hate condoms.
My phone buzzes.
At last.
“Good morning, Taylor.”
“Good morning, Mr. Grey. You called?”
“What news?”
“Sawyer has been through the CCTV footage from the garage and I can confirm it was Leila who vandalized the car.”
“Shit.”
“Quite, sir. I’ve updated Welch on the situation, and the Audi has been removed.”
“Good. Have you checked the apartment CCTV?”