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  “Do it before. Doesn’t sound like the results of any survey will stop you from buying this place.”

  “You’re right. I’ll look at my schedule. When do you think you might have time?”

  “For what?”

  “The build, dude. The build.”

  “Ah. Well, if the Spokani Eden project stays on schedule, maybe early fall?” He shrugs.

  “It’s going well?”

  “Yeah.” Elliot looks pleased with himself.

  He should. It’s an ambitious project, and, once complete, it will be a showcase for his sustainable building methods. He shoves his Seahawks cap back on his head and claps his hands. “T.G.I.F., hotshot. Let’s get back to your place and get our beer on.” Rolling my eyes, I follow my big brother around the side of the house to where my car is parked in the driveway.

  “I wonder what our women are doing?” Elliot says on the drive back to Escala.

  “Packing up Ana’s things, I hope.” I glance at Elliot. He’s got his fucking foot on my dashboard, and he’s watching the passing scenery as if he doesn’t give a shit.

  Lord, I envy him.

  “They’re probably eating pizza, drinking too much wine, and talking about us,” he quips.

  I hope they’re not talking about us!

  “Or they could be watching the game.” He cackles.

  “Kate into baseball?”

  “Yeah. She likes all sports.”

  Of course she does. I’m once more confounded by why she and Ana are friends. Ana doesn’t seem interested in sports at all. Though we both enjoyed watching the Mariners recently. “So, do you think of Kate as your woman, then?” I ask, curious.

  “Yeah. For now.”

  “It’s not serious between you?”

  He shrugs. “She’s cool. We’ll see. She doesn’t hassle me. You know?”

  “I don’t know, thank God,” I mutter to myself, and shake my head. This might be the longest “relationship” he’s ever experienced.

  “Let’s stop at a bar,” he says.

  “No. I’m not drinking and driving.”

  “Dude, you’re driving like Dad.”

  “Fuck off, asshole.” I put my foot down and the R8 screeches up the on-ramp onto I-5 and we speed toward the city.

  “Have you found the prick who totaled your chopper?”

  I sigh. “Helicopter, Elliot. And no. It’s really pissing me off.”

  “Man, who would want to do that?”

  “I don’t know. My team has turned up zilch. I’m waiting for the report from the NTSB. They’re taking their sweet time. I’ve had to up our security. I’ve got two guys watching Ana and Kate’s place tonight.”

  “No kidding! Don’t blame you, man. There are some wackos out there.”

  I give him a look.

  “What? I’m just stating the obvious. I’m glad they’ll be safe,” he says, and I’m beginning to think he might really care for Kavanagh. “What do you want to do for your bachelor party?” he asks as we come off I-5.

  “Elliot, I don’t want or need a bachelor party.”

  “Man, you up and marry the first girl who’s given you any serious attention. Of course you need a bachelor party.”

  I laugh. Dude, you have no idea.

  “I thought you’d knocked her up.”

  I go cold. “Fuck off, bro. I’m not that careless. Ana’s far too young for kids. We have a life to live before we get into all that shit.”

  Elliot laughs. “You with kids. That’ll loosen you up.”

  I ignore him. “Have you heard from Mia?”

  “She’s chasing cock.”

  “What?”

  “Kate’s brother. I don’t think he’s interested.”

  “I dislike the words cock and Mia in the same sentence.”

  “She’s not a kid anymore, hotshot. You know, she’s only slightly younger than Ana and Kate.”

  I’d rather not think about that.

  “Are we playing pool or watching the game?” He wisely changes the subject.

  “Whatever you want, bro, whatever you want.” We pull into the underground garage at Escala while I’m still trying not to think about Mia and Ethan Kavanagh.

  Elliot is snoring in front of the TV. He works too damned hard, he plays too damned hard, but he’ll sleep off his overconsumption of beer in the spare bedroom. We’ve had a chill evening: we watched highlights of the Mariners-Angels game (Mariners lost), he thrashed me at Call of Duty, but I won at pool, for a change. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be at Ana’s apartment to help move the rest of her belongings here. It’s taken enough time. I glance at my watch, wondering what she might be doing. My phone buzzes, and it’s as if she’s heard my thoughts.

  ANA

  I’m packed. Missing you.

  Sleep well. No nightmares.

  This is not a request.

  I’m not there to hold you.

  Love you. ♥

  Her words warm my heart. Flynn said our recent fight was just a small setback; I hope he’s right. I text back.

  Dream of me.

  I hope to dream of you.

  No nightmares.

  ANA

  Promise?

  No promises.

  Just hope. And dreams.

  And love. For you.

  ANA

  You once said you don’t do romance.

  I’m so glad that you’re wrong.

  I’m swooning here!

  I love you, Christian.

  Good night xxx.

  Good night, Ana.

  I like to make you swoon.

  I love you. Always. x

  Monday, July 11, 2011

  I read through the press release that I’ve rewritten for Sam.

  For Immediate Release

  GREY ENTERPRISES HOLDINGS INC. ACQUIRES

  SEATTLE INDEPENDENT PUBLISHING

  Seattle, WA, July 11, 2011—Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc., (GEH) announces the acquisition of Seattle Independent Publishing (SIP) of Seattle, WA, for $15 million.

  A spokesperson for GEH stated: “GEH is thrilled to add SIP to its portfolio of local companies.” CEO Christian Grey said, “I’m eager to branch into publishing and to use GEH’s technological expertise to grow SIP and further develop a solid publishing platform that offers a voice to authors based in the Pacific Northwest.”

  Seattle Independent Publishing was founded thirty-two years ago by Jeremy Roach, who will continue as CEO. SIP has had considerable success championing local authors, including three-time USA Today bestseller Bee Edmonston and poet and performance artist Keon Kinger, whose latest collection, By the Sound, was shortlisted for the prestigious Arthur Rense Prize in 2010.

  SIP will continue to function independently and will retain all thirty-two of its employees. Roach said, “This is a tremendous opportunity for all the staff and the authors at SIP, and we’re very excited to see where our partnership with GEH will take us over the next decade and beyond.”

  All inquiries to Sam Saster

  VP, Director of Publicity, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  Ana’s words come back to me. Of course I’m mad at you. I mean, what kind of responsible business executive makes decisions based on who he is currently fucking?

  I do, Ana.

  But only because I’m fucking you.

  Memories of her tied to her little white bed, slick and sticky with ice cream, me attempting to chop peppers, her calling me an ass, float into my head. I glance at my glider. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to obey, because she thinks I’m an ass.

  Grey. Enough.

  Doubt is an ugly, futile feeling.

  This is my new mantra. Flynn said our dispute was a small setback. All relationships have them. She’s moved in with me, and
we’re getting married in less than three weeks. What more do I want?

  Damn. I wish we were married already. The wait is shredding my nerves. I don’t want her to change her mind. She’s been quiet this weekend. We were busy moving her stuff into the apartment, and she’s been knee-deep in wedding preparations.

  She’s just tired.

  Stop with the negative, Grey.

  Focus on the matter in hand.

  I pick up the phone and call Sam.

  “Christian.”

  Sometimes it really grates on my nerves when he uses my first name. In an arctic tone I inform him, “I’ve sent you a revised, less wordy press release. Brevity is everything. Try and remember that.”

  “As you wish, Mr. Grey.”

  Good. Point made.

  “And, Sam, delete the price and put ‘undisclosed sum.’”

  “Will do.”

  I hang up and turn to my computer. I’m hoping some e-mail banter with my fiancée will improve my disposition and hers.

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: The Ultimate Consumer. Consuming.

  Date: July 11 2011 08:43

  To: Anastasia Steele

  My darling Anastasia

  I was reminiscing about the day you found out I had purchased SIP. I believe you called me an ass, when I was merely exercising my rights as a citizen of our fine country to purchase whatever I please. As the Ultimate Consumer (again, your epithet) I am informing you that the news of my most recent acquisition is no longer embargoed and a press release will be issued today.

  I’m so glad you’ve moved in.

  I slept well last night knowing you were there.

  I love you.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Entrepreneur, not an ass, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Boss or Bossy

  Date: July 11 2011 08:56

  To: Christian Grey

  My dearest husband-to-be

  You were an ass (I stand by that appellation) and my boss’s boss’s boss. I remember that we enjoyed a thoroughly entertaining and sticky evening. Perhaps a helping of ice cream this evening? It is so warm out…

  I love you back. Very much.

  I’m preparing an agenda for our meeting this evening with Alondra about final preparations!

  Any last-minute requests?

  Are you still happy for the rehearsal dinner to take place at Escala?

  Anastasia Steele

  Acting Editor, Fiction, SIP

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: How Many Times!

  Date: July 11 2011 08:59

  To: Anastasia Steele

  My darling Anastasia

  Let’s make it a short service.

  I’m impatient for you to be mine.

  Yes, to Escala. Fewer prying eyes there.

  Oh, and BLACKBERRY!!!

  AND BEN & JERRY’S & ANA.

  My favorite dessert.

  Christian Grey

  Bossy CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Uber Bossy

  Date: July 11 2011 09:02

  To: Christian Grey

  Oh fiddle-dee-dee Mr. Grey.

  It’s my favorite dessert too.

  Ana x

  I smile. Now she’s quoting Gone with the Wind at me. She seems happy enough. I shake my head and summon Andrea, my disposition much improved.

  Thank you, Miss Steele.

  Mid-morning, Andrea puts Darius Jackson from the Port of Ephrata through.

  “Good morning, Christian.”

  “Darius, it’s good to hear your voice. Has she arrived?” Suddenly I’m ten years old again, and it’s Christmas. I can barely contain my excitement.

  “She has, Mr. Grey, and she’s a beauty.”

  “Have you put her together?”

  “Working on it now. I’ll send you some photographs when she’s complete.”

  “I can’t wait to see her.”

  “I have the registration ready, and I’m wondering if you want me to take her up for a test flight, or if you’d like to do that.”

  “No. Take her up. Let me know how she handles.”

  “I’d be delighted to. When can we expect you?”

  “I’ll try and get up there this weekend. I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay. I’ll get back to her. I don’t like to leave a lady waiting.” He chuckles, hangs up, and I laugh.

  Me neither, Darius, unless she’s misbehaved…

  I sigh. Perhaps Ana and I can go soaring this weekend.

  Ana is subdued during dinner, picking at her risotto.

  Maybe she’s having second thoughts?

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Nothing. It was just a long day.”

  My anxiety simmers. There’s something she’s not telling me. “Sawyer told me there were paparazzi outside your building,” I prompt.

  “We left via the loading bay. We managed to avoid them.”

  So, it’s not the continual harassment from the fourth estate that’s bugging her. What is it? I try a different tack. “What did you do today?”

  She snorts. “I spent most of the day on the phone with authors, trying to soften the blow of the news.”

  I almost spit out my food. What the hell!

  She laughs at my expression, her reaction immediately lifting my spirits.

  “Yes, big business exploiting artistic endeavor,” she clarifies.

  “Ah.”

  “Roach called the senior editorial team together this morning to give us all the news of your takeover. Of course, I knew already, when everyone else was in the dark. It was strange. It set me apart…you know.”

  “I see.” Surely that’s a good thing—knowledge is power.

  “Christian.” Her eyes are full of misgiving, and her words pour out in a steady torrent. “My fiancé owns the company I work for. Roach stared at me a few times during the meeting and I didn’t know what he was thinking. I remember he went a little crazy when he found out we were getting married. The whole meeting was odd. I felt uncomfortable and self-conscious.”

  Shit!

  “You didn’t tell me he went a little crazy.” Asshole.

  “That was a while ago, when he found out we were engaged.”

  “Did he make you feel uncomfortable?”

  I’ll fire him if he did.

  She studies me, her face serious, as if considering my question. “A little. Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe I’m projecting. I don’t know. Anyway, he confirmed my position as editor.”

  “Today?”

  “This afternoon.”

  Hmm. I’ve not yet removed the moratorium on hiring new staff.

  Wily old bastard.

  Reaching over, I grasp her hand. “Congratulations. We should celebrate. Were you worried about telling me?”

  “I thought you knew and you hadn’t said anything.” Her voice trails off.

  I laugh. “No, I didn’t. But it’s great news.”

  She looks relieved. Is this why she’s been so quiet? “Don’t sweat it, Ana. To hell with what your colleagues think and what Roach thinks. I hope everyone at the company was reassured by the press release. I’m not planning any changes in the immediate future. And I’m sure your authors were delighted to hear from you.”

  “Some yes. Some no. There are a few who still miss Jack.”

  “Really? That amazes me.”

  “He took a gamble on a couple. They’re loyal. I suspect they’ll move with him when he finds another job.”

  He’s never going to find another job if I have my way.

  She tightens her fingers around mine.

&nb
sp; “Anyway, thank you,” she says.

  “What for?”

  “Listening.” Her brow furrows once again, and I wonder if she wants to say more.

  What, Ana? Tell me.

  “Are you ready for the wedding planner?” she asks.

  “Of course. Better finish up.” I look pointedly at her food. And to my relief she scoops up a large bite of risotto and pops it into her mouth. I slowly unwind; she just wanted to tell me about her promotion and expected me to know about it.

  For fuck’s sake, Grey.

  Relax.

  “All that remains is to decide what you’ll do after the wedding reception.” Alondra Gutierrez has an easy smile.

  “We haven’t discussed that yet.” Ana turns to me.

  “It’s in hand,” I tell Ms. Gutierrez, and Ana looks surprised.

  Oh, baby. I’ve got this.

  “I’ll take this up with you separately, Alondra.”

  “Very good, Mr. Grey. I can’t wait to hear!”

  “Neither can I,” Ana says.

  “You’ll have to wait until the big day.” I smile.

  I hope you enjoy what I have planned.

  Ana pushes out her bottom lip in the semblance of a pout, but there’s humor in her expression and something else…something darker, more sensual, that speaks to my dick.

  Fuck.

  Alondra gathers her things, letting us know that we can still make last-minute changes as we thank her for all that she’s done.

  We all rise as Taylor appears at the entrance to the living room and Alondra takes her leave. We both watch her depart, and once she’s out of earshot I turn to Ana.

  “She’s got it all in hand.”

  “Alondra’s good at her job,” she says.

  “She is,” I agree. “Now what do you want to do?” I add in a whisper.

  Ana whips her eyes to mine and her lips part as she gazes at me. We’re inches from each other. Not touching. But I feel her. All of her. The silence between us gets louder, expanding to fill the space surrounding us as we each drink the other in.

  Suddenly, there’s no oxygen in the vast room. There’s only us, only our desire, crackling invisibly between us. I see it in the summer of her eyes. Her pupils growing wider. Darker. Reflecting my thirst. My love. Our love.

  “You’ve been so distant.” Her voice is barely audible. “All weekend.”

  “No. Not distant. Afraid.”