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Her lips part in shock and her expression transforms, from stunned to impressed and exasperated in equal measure. “We’ve already made serious misuse of your company’s aviation fleet. I wouldn’t want to do it again,” she says nonchalantly.
“It’s my company, it’s my jet.”
She shakes her head. “Thank you for the offer. But I’d be happier taking a scheduled flight.”
Surely most women would jump at the opportunity of taking a private jet, but it seems material wealth really doesn’t impress this girl—or she doesn’t like to feel indebted to me. I’m not sure which. Either way, she’s a stubborn creature.
“As you wish.” I sigh. “Do you have much preparation to do for your interview?”
“No.”
“Good.” I ask but she still won’t tell me which of the publishing houses she’s seeing. Instead she gives me a sphinxlike smile. There’s no way she’s divulging this secret.
“I’m a man of means, Miss Steele.”
“I’m fully aware of that, Mr. Grey. Are you going to track my phone?”
Trust her to remember that. “Actually, I’ll be quite busy this afternoon, so I’ll have to get someone else to do it,” I answer, smirking.
“If you can spare someone to do that, you’re obviously overstaffed.”
Oh, she’s sassy today.
“I’ll send an e-mail to the head of human resources and have her look into our head count.” This is what I like: our banter. It’s refreshing and fun, and unlike anything I’ve known before.
Mrs. Jones serves us breakfast, and I’m pleased to see Ana relishing her food. When Mrs. Jones leaves the kitchen Ana peers up at me.
“What is it, Anastasia?”
“You know, you never did tell me why you don’t like to be touched.”
Not this again!
“I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anybody.” My voice is low to conceal my frustration. Why does she persist with these questions? She eats another couple of mouthfuls of her pancakes.
“Will you think about our arrangement while you’re away?” I ask.
“Yes.” She’s earnest.
“Will you miss me?”
Grey!
She turns to face me, as surprised as I am by the question. “Yes,” she says after a moment, her expression open and honest. I was expecting a smart remark, yet I get the truth. And strangely, I find her admission comforting.
“I’ll miss you, too,” I mutter. “More than you know.” My apartment will be a little quieter without her, and a little emptier. I stroke her cheek and kiss her. She gives me a sweet smile before returning to her breakfast.
“I’ll brush my teeth, then I should go,” she announces, once she’s finished.
“So soon. I thought you might stay longer.”
She’s taken aback. Did she think I’d kick her out?
“I’ve prevailed upon you and taken up your time for long enough, Mr. Grey. Besides, don’t you have an empire to run?”
“I can play hooky.” Hope swells in my chest and my voice. And I’ve just cleared my morning.
“I have to prep for my interviews. And get changed.” She eyes me warily.
“You look great.”
“Why, thank you, Sir,” she says graciously. But her cheeks are coloring their familiar rosy pink, like her ass last night. She’s embarrassed. When will she learn to take a compliment?
Rising, she takes her plate to the sink.
“Leave that. Mrs. Jones will do it.”
“Okay. I’m just going to brush my teeth.”
“Please feel free to use my toothbrush,” I offer, with sarcasm.
“I had every intention of doing so,” she says, and sashays out of the room. That woman has an answer for everything.
She returns a few moments later with her purse.
“Don’t forget to take your BlackBerry, your Mac, and your chargers to Georgia.”
“Yes, Sir,” she says obediently.
Good girl.
“Come.” I lead her to the elevator and step in with her.
“You don’t have to come down. I can see myself to my car.”
“It’s all part of the service,” I quip ironically. “Besides, I can kiss you all the way down.” I fold her into my arms and do just that, enjoying her taste and her tongue and giving her a proper good-bye.
We’re both aroused and breathless by the time the doors open on the garage level. But she’s leaving. I take her to her car and open the driver’s door for her, ignoring my need.
“Good-bye, for now, Sir,” she whispers, and kisses me once more.
“Drive safely, Anastasia. And safe travels.” I close her door, stand back, and watch her leave. Then I head upstairs.
I knock on Taylor’s study door and let him know that I’d like to go to the office in ten minutes. “I’ll have the car waiting, sir.”
I CALL WELCH FROM the car.
“Mr. Grey,” he rasps.
“Welch. Anastasia Steele is buying an airline ticket today, leaving Seattle tonight for Savannah. I’d like to know which flight she’s on.”
“Does she have an airline preference?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I hang up. My cunning plan is falling into place.
“MR. GREY!” ANDREA IS startled at my appearance several hours early. I want to tell her that I do fucking work here, but I decide to behave.
“I thought I’d surprise you.”