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I want to share my lifestyle with you. I have never wanted anything so much. Frankly, I’m in awe of you, that one so innocent would be willing to try. That says more to me than you could ever know. You fail to see I am caught in your spell, too, even though I have told you this countless times. I don’t want to lose you. I am nervous that you’ve flown three thousand miles to get away from me for a few days, because you can’t think clearly around me. It’s the same for me, Anastasia. My reason vanishes when we’re together—that’s the depth of my feeling for you.
I understand your trepidation. I did try to stay away from you; I knew you were inexperienced, though I would never have pursued you if I had known exactly how innocent you were—and yet you still manage to disarm me completely in a way that nobody has before. Your e-mail, for example: I have read and reread it countless times trying to understand your point of view. Three months is an arbitrary amount of time. We could make it six months, a year? How long do you want it to be? What would make you comfortable? Tell me.
I understand that this is a huge leap of faith for you. I have to earn your trust, but by the same token, you have to communicate with me when I am failing to do this. You seem so strong and self-contained, and then I read what you’ve written here, and I see another side to you. We have to guide each other, Anastasia, and I can only take my cues from you. You have to be honest with me, and we have to both find a way to make this arrangement work.
You worry about not being submissive. Well, maybe that’s true. Having said that, the only time you do assume the correct demeanor for a sub is in the playroom. It seems that’s the one place where you let me exercise proper control over you and the only place you do as you’re told. “Exemplary” is the term that comes to mind. And I’d never beat you black and blue. I aim for pink. Outside the playroom, I like that you challenge me. It’s a very novel and refreshing experience, and I wouldn’t want to change that. So, yes, tell me what you want in terms of more. I will endeavor to keep an open mind, and I shall try to give you the space you need and stay away from you while you are in Georgia. I look forward to your next e-mail.
In the meantime, enjoy yourself. But not too much.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I press send and take a sip of my cold coffee.
Now you have to wait, Grey. See what she says.
I stomp into the kitchen to see what Gail has prepared for breakfast.
TAYLOR IS WAITING IN the car to whisk me to work.
“What was it you wanted last night?” I ask him.
“It was nothing important, sir.”
“Good,” I respond, and gaze out the window, trying to put Ana and Georgia out of my mind. I fail miserably, but an idea starts to take shape.
I call Andrea. “Morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Grey.”
“I’m on my way in, but can you put me through to Bill?”
“Yes, sir.”
A few moments later I have Bill on the line.
“Mr. Grey.”
“Did your people look at Georgia as an option to site the tech plant? Savannah, in particular?”
“I believe we did, sir. But I’ll need to check.”
“Check. Come back to me.”
“Will do. Is that all?”
“For now. Thanks.”
MY DAY IS FULL of meetings. I look at my e-mail sporadically, but there’s nothing from Ana. I wonder if she’s daunted by the tone of my e-mail, or if she’s busy doing other things.
What other things?
It’s impossible to avoid thoughts of her. Throughout the day I exchange texts with Caroline Acton, approving and vetoing outfits she’s chosen for Ana. I hope she likes them: she’ll look stunning in all of them.
Bill has come back to me with a potential site near Savannah for our plant. Ruth is making inquiries.
At least it’s not Detroit.
Elena calls, and we decide to have dinner at Columbia Tower.
“Christian, you’re being so coy about this girl,” she chides.
“I’ll tell you everything this evening. Right now I’m busy.”
“You’re always busy.” She laughs. “See you at eight.”
“See you then.”
Why are the women in my life so nosy? Elena. My mother. Ana…I wonder for the hundredth time what she’s doing. And behold, there’s a response from her, at last.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Verbose?
Date: May 31 2011 19:08 EST
To: Christian Grey
Sir, you are quite the loquacious writer. I have to go to dinner at Bob’s golf club, and just so you know, I am rolling my eyes at the thought. But you and your twitchy palm are a long way from me so my behind is safe, for now. I loved your e-mail. Will respond when I can. I miss you already.
Enjoy your afternoon.
Your Ana
It’s not a “no,” and she misses me. I’m relieved and amused at her tone. I respond.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your Behind
Date: May 31 2011 16:10
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele,
I am distracted by the title of this e-mail. Needless to say it is safe—for now.
Enjoy your dinner, and I miss you, too, especially your behind and your smart mouth.
My afternoon will be dull, brightened only by thoughts of you and your eye rolling. I think it was you who so judiciously pointed out to me that I, too, suffer from that nasty habit.
Christian Grey
CEO & Eye Roller,
Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
A few minutes later her reply pings into my inbox.