Elliot is silent.
“No disrespect meant,” I add.
He sighs. “Okay, man. Hope the police catch the bastard.”
“Me, too.”
“I’ve got to be on-site, but let me know how your meeting with Gia goes this evening. I can’t wait to see the plans and we can start ordering the materials we’ll need.”
“Will do.”
“I have half an hour, Christian,” Flynn says when I march into his office.
“She won’t take my name.”
“What?”
“Anastasia.”
“She won’t take your name?” He looks momentarily confused. “Anastasia Grey?”
“Yes. She sent me an e-mail this morning, telling me so.”
“Sit,” he says, and points to the couch, and rather than take his usual chair, he sits down on the couch opposite. There is a plate of sandwiches, their crusts removed, and what looks like cola in a glass in front of him on the coffee table. “Lunch,” he says.
“Please, go ahead. Don’t mind me.”
“So, Christian, let’s just back up a bit. I last saw you on your wedding day. It was a joyous occasion. How was the honeymoon?” He takes a large bite out of a sandwich while my mind casts back to a few days ago. I relax, a little, remembering the calm waters of the deep blue Med; the scent of the bougainvillea, how accommodating and efficient the crew of Fair Lady were…how much I loved being in Anastasia’s company.
“It was sublime.”
John smiles. “Good. Any issues?”
“None that I want to discuss.” I’m not prepared to tell him about the hickey incident yet.
He gives me a direct, level look. “Because you are encroaching on my lunchtime, I’m going to tell you that’s not very helpful.”
I sigh. “Nothing serious. We had one fight.”
“Was that about your name?”
I flush. “Um. No.”
“Okay, when and if you want to discuss that, we can. So, what’s happened since then?”
I tell him at length about Hyde, about firing him, about the incendiary device, and the fact that he had information about me, my family, and Ana on his SIP hard drive. I tell him about the car chase.
“Crikey!” Flynn exclaims when I finish.
“He’s now the chief suspect in my helicopter’s sabotage.”
“Holy crap,” he mouths, and takes a bite of his sandwich.
“But that’s not the reason I’m here. This morning I got an e-mail from Ana saying she doesn’t want to take my name. I would have expected a discussion at least. Not just an e-mail.”
“I see.” His expression is thoughtful. “Finding out your wife’s ex-boss is trying to burn down your building, and may be responsible for a near-fatal accident in your helicopter is a big deal, Christian. Plus, a car chase. Have you considered that you may be channeling your stress from all these incidents into your reaction to the e-mail that you received from your wife?”
I frown. “I don’t think so.”
He strokes his chin. “Knowing how anxious you are about Ana’s safety, all of these events had to have had an effect on you. As I’ve learned over the last few months, she is your primary concern. Always.”
“True.”
“You do a great deal for her,” he says gently.
I do.
“You’ve given up a great deal for her.”
I say nothing. Where is he going with this?
“Then you might be interpreting her e-mail as a rejection, especially after all that you’ve done for her, and that wounds you.”
I take a deep breath.
Yes. It does. “I just can’t believe she didn’t talk to me about it. It’s like she’s dismissing me and all that I have worked to become. I wasn’t born a Grey.”
Flynn frowns. “There’s a lot to unpack in that sentence, Christian. And, sadly, I don’t have the time to do that right now. I hate to break it to you, but Anastasia keeping her name might be more about how she feels about herself, and may have nothing to do with you.”
How could this not be about me? It’s my name. It’s the only one I have…the only one I acknowledge.
There you are, Maggot.
I gaze at him, remaining impassive.
“The best thing to do is to talk to her. Tell her how you feel,” Flynn adds. “We spoke about this before. Ana is not an unreasonable person.”
She’s not. Except about the obey vow.
“This obviously means a great deal to you. Talk to her. I think we have an appointment on Wednesday. We can discuss this in more detail then. And maybe, in the meantime, you’ll have worked out some kind of compromise.”
“Compromise?”
She either takes my name or she doesn’t. Where’s the compromise in that?
“Ask her why, Christian,” he says gently. “Communicate and compromise.”
“Yeah, yeah. ‘It’s better to concede the battle to win the war.’” I parrot his words from one of our earlier sessions.
“Precisely.”
I get up. “Thanks for seeing me at such short notice.”
“Well, I hope I’ve been helpful.”
“I think so.” I’m going to talk to Ana right now.
“I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“One more thing. Leila Williams—is she in Connecticut?” I ask.