I tell Ana about our work on solar and wind-up technology for the home market and the developing world, and our innovative research to develop battery storage. All critical initiatives, given the depletion of fossil fuels.
“You still with me?” I ask when our chowder arrives. I love that she’s interested in what I do. Even my parents struggle not to glaze over when I tell them about my work.
“I’m fascinated,” she says. “Everything about you fascinates me, Christian.”
Her words are encouraging, so I continue my story, of how I bought and sold more companies, keeping those that shared my ethos, breaking up and selling the others.
“Mergers and acquisitions,” she muses.
“The very same. I moved into shipping two years ago, and from there into improving food production. Our test sites in Africa are pioneering new agricultural techniques for higher crop yields.”
“Feed the world,” Ana teases me.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“You’re very philanthropic.”
“I can afford to be.”
“This is delicious,” Ana says, as she takes another spoonful of chowder.
“One of my favorites,” I respond.
“You told me you like sailing.” Ana motions to the boats outside.
“Yes. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid. Elliot and I learned to sail at the sail school here. Do you sail?”
“No.”
“So what does a young woman from Montesano do to keep herself amused?” I take a sip of my beer.
“Read.”
“It always comes back to books with you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“What happened between Ray and your mom?”
“I think they drifted apart. My mom is such a romantic, and Ray, well, he’s more practical. She’d been in Washington all her life. She wanted adventure.”
“Did she find any?”
“She found Steve.” Her expression darkens, as if the mention of his name leaves a nasty taste in her mouth. “But she never talks about him.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. I don’t think that was a happy time for her. I wondered if she regretted leaving Ray after that.”
“And you stayed with him.”
“Yes. He needed me more than my mom did.”
We talk freely and easily. Ana is a good listener and much more forthcoming about herself this time. Perhaps it’s because she now knows that I love her.
I love Ana.
There. That’s not so painful, is it, Grey?
She’s explaining how much she disliked living in Texas and Vegas because of the heat. She prefers the cooler climate in Washington.
I hope she stays in Washington.
Yes. With me.
Like moving in?
Grey, you’re getting way ahead of yourself here.
Take her sailing.
I glance at my watch and drain my beer. “Shall we go?”
We settle up for lunch and we head outside into the mild summer sunshine. “I wanted to show you something.”
Holding hands, we amble past the smaller boats anchored in the marina. I spot The Grace’s mast towering above the smaller boats as we near her mooring. My anticipation escalates. I haven’t been sailing for a while, and now I get to take my girl. Leaving the main promenade, we step onto the dock, then down onto a narrower pontoon. At The Grace, I stop. “I thought we’d go sailing this afternoon. This is my boat.”
My catamaran. My pride and joy.
Ana’s impressed.
“Built by my company. She’s been designed from the ground up by the very best naval architects in the world and constructed here in Seattle at my yard. She has hybrid electric drives, asymmetric dagger boards, a square-topped mainsail—”
“Okay!” Ana says, holding up her hands. “You’ve lost me, Christian.”
Don’t get carried away, Grey.
“She’s a great boat.” I can’t conceal my admiration.
“She looks mighty fine, Mr. Grey.”
“That she does, Miss Steele.”
“What’s her name?”
I take her hand and show her “The Grace” written in an elaborate scroll on the side. “You named her after your mom?” Ana sounds surprised.
“Yes. Why do you find that strange?”
She shrugs, at a loss for words.
“I adore my mom, Anastasia. Why wouldn’t I name a boat after her?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just—”
“Anastasia, Grace Trevelyan-Grey saved my life. I owe her everything.”
Her smile is uncertain, and I wonder what’s going through her head, and what I might have done to make her think I don’t love my mother.
Okay, so I once told Ana I didn’t have a heart—but there’s always been room for my family in what’s left of it. Even Elliot.
I didn’t know there was space for anyone else.
But there’s an Ana-shaped space.
And she’s filled it to overflowing.
I swallow as I try to contain the depth of feeling I have for her. She’s bringing my heart back to life, bringing me back to life.
“Do you want to come aboard?” I ask, before I say something sappy.
“Yes, please.”
Taking my hand, she follows me as I stride up the gangplank onto the aft deck. Mac appears, startling Ana when he opens the sliding doors to the main saloon.
“Mr. Grey! Welcome back.” We shake hands.
“Anastasia, this is Liam McConnell. Liam, my girlfriend, Anastasia Steele.”
“How do you do?” she says to Liam.
“Call me Mac. Welcome aboard, Miss Steele.”