I laugh. “Oh, that’s where we’re going with this. Why do you think I work out every weekday?”
Today is different. Sex on a workday. Before breakfast. The last time that happened was on a desk in my study with you, Anastasia.
“You look very pleased with yourself, Miss Steele.”
“I am, Mr. Grey.”
“You should be. Now eat your breakfast.”
WE RIDE DOWN IN the elevator with Taylor and Sawyer, and our collective good mood continues in the car. Taylor and Sawyer are up front when we set off for SIP.
Yes, I could definitely get used to this.
Ana is buoyant. She steals glances at me, or is it me who’s stealing glances at her?
“Didn’t you say your roommate’s brother was arriving today?” I ask her.
“Oh, Ethan,” she exclaims. “I forgot. Oh, Christian, thank you for reminding me. I’ll have to go back to the apartment.”
“What time?”
“I’m not sure what time he’s arriving.”
“I don’t want you going anywhere on your own.”
She gives me a pained look. “I know,” she says. “Will Sawyer be spying, um, patrolling today?”
“Yes.” I stress the word.
Leila’s still out there.
“If I were driving the Saab it would be easier,” she mutters, sounding sullen.
“Sawyer will have a car, and he can drive you to your apartment, depending on what time.” I glance at Taylor in the rearview mirror. He nods.
Ana sighs. “Okay. I think Ethan will probably contact me during the day. I’ll let you know what the plans are then.”
This arrangement leaves a great deal to chance.
But I don’t want an argument.
I’m having too good a day.
“Okay. Nowhere on your own. Do you understand?” I waggle a finger at her.
“Yes, dear,” she says, each word dripping with sarcasm.
Oh, what I’d give to spank her right now.
“And maybe you should just use your BlackBerry—I’ll e-mail you on it. That should prevent my IT guy having a thoroughly interesting morning, okay?”
“Yes, Christian.” She rolls her eyes.
“Why, Miss Steele, I do believe you’re making my palm twitch.”
“Ah, Mr. Grey, your perpetually twitching palm. What are we going to do with that?”
I laugh. She’s funny.
My phone vibrates.
Shit. It’s Elena.
“What is it?”
“Christian. Hi. It’s me. I’m sorry to disturb you. I wanted to make sure you didn’t call your guy. That note was from Isaac.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Yes. This is so embarrassing. It was for a scene.”
“For a scene.”
“Yes. And he didn’t mean five thousand in cash.”
I laugh. “When did he tell you this?”
“This morning. I called him first thing. I told him I’d been to see you. Oh, Christian, I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t worry. You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad there’s a logical explanation. It did seem a ridiculously low amount of money.”
“I’m mortified.”
“I have no doubt you’ve something evil and creative planned for your revenge. Poor Isaac.”
“Actually, he’s furious with me. So I may have to make it up to him.”
“Good.”
“Anyway. Thank you for listening yesterday. Talk soon.”
“Good-bye.” I hang up and turn to Ana, who’s watching me.
“Who was that?” she asks.
“You really want to know?”
She shakes her head and stares out the window, the corners of her mouth turning down. “Hey.” I take her hand and kiss each knuckle, then take her little finger, slip it into my mouth, and suck it. Hard. Then bite down gently.
She wriggles beside me and gives a nervous look to Taylor and Sawyer in the front seat. I have her attention.
“Don’t sweat it, Anastasia. She’s in the past.” I plant a kiss in the center of her palm and release her hand. She opens the door and I watch her stride into SIP.
“Mr. Grey, I’d like to do a sweep of Miss Steele’s apartment if she’s returning there today,” Taylor says, and I agree it’s a good idea.
ANDREA GIVES ME A broad smile when I step out of the elevator at Grey House. A mousy-looking young woman stands beside her.
“Good morning, Mr. Grey. This is Sarah Hunter. She’ll be interning with us.”
Sarah looks me squarely in the eye and holds out her hand. “Good morning, Mr. Grey. Pleased to meet you.”
“Hello, Sarah. Welcome.” We exchange firm handshakes.
Her grip is surprising.
Not so mousy, then.
I extract my hand.
“Could I see you in my office, Andrea?”
“Of course. Would you like Sarah to make you a coffee?”
“Yes. Black. Please.”
Sarah sashays off toward the kitchen with an enthusiasm that I hope I won’t find irritating, and I hold the door to my office open for Andrea. Once she’s inside, I close the door.
“Andrea—”
“Mr. Grey—”
We both stop talking.
“Go,” I say.
“Mr. Grey, I just wanted to say thank you for the suite. It was gorgeous. You really didn’t—”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married?” I sit down at my desk.
Andrea blushes. This I do not see often, and she seems at a loss for what to say.
“Andrea?”
“Well. Um. There’s a non-fraternization clause in my contract.”
“You married someone who works here!”
How the hell did she keep that to herself?