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Fifty Shades of Grey, Page 21

E. L. James


  Patiently, I explain the essence of my email without giving anything away.

  “So you thought he’d reply by email.”

  “Yes.”

  “But instead he turns up here.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d say he’s completely smitten with you.”

  I frown. Christian, smitten with me? Hardly. He’s just looking for a new toy – a convenient new toy that he can bed and do unspeakable things to. My heart tightens painfully.

  This is the reality.

  “He came here to fuck me, that’s all.”

  “Who said romance was dead?” she whispers horrified. I’ve shocked Kate. I didn’t think that was possible. I shrug apologetically.

  “He uses sex as a weapon.”

  “Fuck you into submission?” She shakes her head disapprovingly. I blink rapidly at her, and I can feel the blush as it spreads across my face. Oh… spot on, Katherine Kavanagh, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist.

  “Ana, I don’t understand, you just let him make love to you?”

  “No, Kate, we don’t make love – we fuck – Christian’s terminology. He doesn’t do the love thing.”

  “I knew there was something weird about him. He has commitment issues.”

  I nod, as if in agreement. Inwardly, I pine. Oh Kate... I wish I could tell you everything, everything about this strange, sad, kinky guy, and you could tell me to forget about him. Stop me from being a fool.

  “I guess it’s all a little overwhelming,” I murmur. That’s the understatement of the year. Because I don’t want to talk about Christian any more, I ask her about Elliot. Katherine’s whole demeanor changes at the mere mention of his name, she lights up from within, beaming at me.

  “He’s coming over early Saturday to help load up.” She hugs the hairbrush, boy has she got it bad, and I feel a familiar faint stab of envy. Kate has found herself a normal man, and she looks so happy.

  I turn and hug her.

  “Oh, I meant to say. Your dad called while you were… err, occupied. Apparently Bob has sustained some injury, so your mom and he can’t make graduation. But your dad will be here Thursday. He wants you to call.”

  “Oh... my mom never called me. Is Bob okay?”

  “Yes. Call her in the morning. It’s late now.”

  “Thanks, Kate. I’m okay now. I’ll call Ray in the morning too. I think I’ll just turn in.” She smiles, but her eyes crinkle at the corners with concern.

  After she’s gone, I sit and read the contract again, making more notes as I go. When I’ve finished, I fire up the laptop, ready to respond.

  There’s an email from Christian in my inbox.

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: This evening

  Date: May 23 2011 23:16

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Miss Steele

  I look forward to receiving your notes on the contract.

  Until then, sleep well baby.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Issues

  Date: May 24 2011 00:02

  To: Christian Grey

  Dear Mr. Grey

  Here is my list of issues. I look forward to discussing them more fully at dinner on Wednesday.

  The numbers refer to clauses:

  2: Not sure why this is solely for MY benefit – ie to explore MY sensuality and limits. I’m sure I wouldn’t need a ten-page contract to do that! Surely this is for YOUR benefit.

  4: As you are aware you are my only sexual partner. I don’t take drugs, and I’ve not had any blood transfusions. I’m probably safe. What about you?

  8: I can terminate at any time if I don’t think you’re sticking to the agreed limits. Okay – I like this.

  9: Obey you in all things? Accept without hesitation your discipline? We need to talk about this.

  11: One month trial period. Not three.

  12: I cannot commit every weekend. I do have a life, or will have. Perhaps three out of four?

  15.2: Using my body as you see fit sexually or otherwise – please define “or otherwise.”

  15.5: This whole discipline clause. I’m not sure I want to be whipped, flogged, or corporally punished. I am sure this would be in breach of clauses 2-5. And also “for any other reason”. That’s just mean – and you told me you weren’t a sadist.

  15.10: Like loaning me out to someone else would ever be an option. But I’m glad it’s here in black and white.

  15.14: The Rules. More on those later.

  15.19: Touching myself without your permission. What’s the problem with this? You know I don’t do it anyway.

  15.21: Discipline – Please see clause 15.5 above.

  15.22: I can’t look into your eyes? Why?

  15.24: Why can’t I touch you?

  Rules:

  Sleep – I’ll agree to 6 hours. Food – I am not eating food from a prescribed list. The food list goes or I do – Deal breaker. Clothes – as long as I only have to wear your clothes when I’m with you... okay. Exercise – We agreed 3 hours, this still says 4.

  Soft Limits:

  Can we go through all of these? No Fisting of any kind. What is suspension? Genital Clamps – you have got to be kidding me.

  Can you please let me know the arrangements for Wednesday? I am working until 5pm that day.

  Good night.

  Ana

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: This evening

  Date: May 24 2011 00:07

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Miss Steele

  That’s a long list. Why are you still up?

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Burning the midnight oil

  Date: May 24 2011 00:10

  To: Christian Grey

  Sir

  If you recall I was going through this list, when I was distracted and bedded by a passing control freak.

  Goodnight.

  Ana

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Stop Burning the midnight oil

  Date: May 24 2011 00:12

  To: Anastasia Steele

  GO TO BED ANASTASIA.

  Christian Grey

  CEO & Control Freak, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

  Oh… shouty capitals! I switch off. How can he intimidate me when he’s six miles away?

  I shake my head. My heart still heavy, I climb into bed and fall instantly into a deep but troubled sleep.

  The following day, I call my mom when I’m home from work. It’s been a relatively peaceful day at the Clayton’s, allowing me far too much time to think. I’m restless, nervous about my showdown with Mr. Control Freak tomorrow, and at the back of my mind, I’m worried that perhaps I’ve been too negative in my response to the contract. Perhaps he’ll call the whole thing off.

  My mom is oozing contrition, desperately sorry not to make my graduation. Bob has twisted some ligament which means he’s hobbling all over the place. Honestly, he’s as accident-prone as I am. He’s expected to make a full recovery, but it means he’s resting up, and my mother has to wait on him hand and sore foot.

  “Ana honey, I’m so sorry,” my mom whines down the phone.

  “Mom, it’s fine. Ray will be there.”

  “Ana, you sound distracted – are you okay, baby?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Oh if only you knew. There’s an obscenely rich guy I’ve met and he wants some kind of strange kinky sexual relationship, in which I don’t get a say in things.

  “Have you met someone?”

  “No, Mom.” I am so not going there right now.

  “Well, darling, I’ll be thinking of you on Thursday. I love you… you know that honey?”I close my eyes, her precious words give me a warm glow inside.

  “Love you too, Mom. Say hi to Bob, and I hope he gets better fast.”

  “Will do, honey. Bye.”


  “Bye.”

  I have strayed into my bedroom with the phone. Idly, I switch the mean machine on and fire up the email program. There’s an email from Christian from late last night or very early this morning, depending on your point of view. My heart rate spikes instantly, and I hear the blood pumping in my ears. Holy crap… perhaps he’s said no – that’s it – maybe he’s canceling dinner. The thought is so painful. I dismiss it quickly and open the email.

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Your Issues

  Date: May 24 2011 01:27

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Dear Miss Steele

  Following my more thorough examination of your issues, may I bring to your attention the definition of submissive.

  submissive [s uhb-mis-iv] – adjective 1. inclined or ready to submit; unresistingly or humbly obedient: submissive servants.

  2. marked by or indicating submission: a submissive reply.

  Origin: 1580–90; submiss + -ive

  Synonyms: 1. tractable, compliant, pliant, amenable. 2. passive, resigned, patient, docile, tame, subdued. Antonyms: 1. rebellious, disobedient.

  Please bear this in mind for our meeting on Wednesday.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

  My initial feeling is one of relief. He’s willing to discuss my issues at least, and he still wants to meet tomorrow. After some thought, I reply.

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: My Issues… What about Your Issues?

  Date: May 24 2011 18:29

  To: Christian Grey

  Sir

  Please note the date of origin: 1580-90. I would respectfully remind Sir that the year is 2011. We have come a long way since then.

  May I offer a definition for you to consider for our meeting: compromise [kom-pr uh-mahyz] - noun

  1. a settlement of differences by mutual concessions; an agreement reached by adjustment of conflicting or opposing claims, principles, etc., by reciprocal modification of demands. 2. the result of such a settlement. 3. something intermediate between different things: The split-level is a compromise between a ranch house and a multistoried house.

  4. an endangering, esp. of reputation; exposure to danger, suspicion, etc.: a compro-

  mise of one’s integrity.

  Ana

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: What about My Issues?

  Date: May 24 2011 18:32

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Good point, well made, as ever, Miss Steele. I will collect you from your apartment at 7:00 tomorrow.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: 2011 – Women can drive

  Date: May 24 2011 18:40

  To: Christian Grey

  Sir

  I have a car. I can drive.

  I would prefer to meet you somewhere.

  Where shall I meet you?

  At your hotel at 7:00?

  Ana

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Stubborn Young Women

  Date: May 24 2011 18:43

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Dear Miss Steele

  I refer to my email dated May 24, 2011 sent at 1:27 and the definition contained therein.

  Do you ever think you’ll be able to do what you’re told?

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Intractable Men

  Date: May 24 2011 18:49

  To: Christian Grey

  Mr. Grey

  I would like to drive.

  Please.

  Ana

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Exasperated Men

  Date: May 24 2011 18:52

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Fine.

  My hotel at 7:00.

  I’ll meet you in the Marble Bar.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

  He’s even grumpy by email. Doesn’t he understand that I may need to make a quick get-away? Not that my Beetle is quick… but still – I need a means of escape.

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Not So Intractable Men

  Date: May 24 2011 18:55

  To: Christian Grey

  Thank you.

  Ana x

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Exasperating Women

  Date: May 24 2011 18:59

  To: Anastasia Steele

  You’re welcome.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

  I call Ray, who is just about to watch the Sounders play some soccer team from Salt Lake City, so our conversation is mercifully brief. He’s driving down on Thursday for graduation. He wants to take me out afterward for a meal. My heart swells talking to Ray, and a huge lump knots in my throat. He has been my constant through all mom’s romantic ups and downs. We have a special bond that I treasure. Even though he’s my stepdad, he’s always treated me as his own, and I can’t wait to see him. It’s been too long. His quiet fortitude is what I need now, what I miss. Maybe I can channel my inner Ray for my meeting tomorrow.

  Kate and I concentrate on packing, sharing a bottle of cheap red wine as we do. When I finally go to bed, having almost finished packing my room, I feel calmer. The physical activity of boxing everything up has been a welcome distraction, and I’m tired. I want a good night’s sleep. I snuggle into my bed and am soon asleep.

  Paul is back from Princeton before he sets off for New York to start an internship with a financing company. He follows me round the store all day asking me for a date. It’s annoying.

  “Paul, for the hundredth time, I have a date this evening.”

  “No, you don’t, you’re just saying that to avoid me. You’re always avoiding me.”

  Yes… you’d think you’d take the hint.

  “Paul, I never thought it was a good idea to date the boss’s brother.”

  “You’re finishing here on Friday. You’re not working tomorrow.”

  “And I’ll be in Seattle as of Saturday and you’ll be in New York soon. We couldn’t get much further apart if we tried. Besides, I do have a date this evening.”

  “With José?”

  “No.”

  “Who then?”

  “Paul… oh.” My sigh is exasperated. He’s not going to let this go. “Christian Grey.” I cannot help the annoyance in my voice. But it does the trick. Paul’s mouth falls open, and he gapes at me, struck dumb. Humph – even his name renders people speechless.

  “You have a date with Christian Grey,” he says finally, once he’s over the shock. Disbelief is evident in his voice.

  “Yes.”

  “I see.” Paul looks positively crestfallen, stunned even, and a very small part resents that he should find this a surprise. My inner goddess does too. She makes a very vulgar and unattractive gesture at him with her fingers.

  After that, he ignores me, and at five I am out of the door, pronto.

  Kate has lent me two dresses and two pairs of shoes for tonight and for graduation tomorrow. I wish I could feel more enthused about clothes and make an extra effort, but clothes are just not my thing. What is your thing, Anastasia? Christian’s softly spoken question haunts me. Shaking my head and endeavoring to quell my nerves, I decide on the plum-colored sheath dress for this evening. It’s demure and vaguely business-like – after all, I am negotiating a contract.

  I shower, shave my legs and underarms, wash my hair, and then spend a good half-hour drying it so that it falls in soft waves to my breasts and down my back. I slip a comb in to keep one side off my face and apply mascara and some lip-gloss. I rarely wear make-up – it intimidates me. None of my literary heroines had to deal with make-up – maybe I’d know more about it if they had. I slip on the plum-colored stilettos that match the dress, and I’m ready by six-thi
rty.

  “Well?” I ask Kate.

  She grins.

  “Boy, you scrub up well, Ana.” She nods with approval. “You look hot.”

  “Hot! I’m aiming for demure and business-like.”

  “That too, but most of all, hot. The dress really suits you and your coloring. The way it clings.” She smirks.

  “Kate!” I scold.

  “Just keeping it real, Ana. The whole package – looks good. Keep the dress. You’ll have him eating out of your hand.”

  My mouth presses in a hard line. Oh, you so have that the wrong way round.

  “Wish me luck.”

  “You need luck for a date?” Her brow furrows, puzzled.

  “Yes, Kate.”

  “Well then – good luck.” She hugs me, and I am out the front door.

  I have to drive in my bare feet – Wanda, my sea-blue Beetle, wasn’t built to be driven by stiletto-wearers. I pull up outside the Heathman at six-fifty-eight precisely and hand my car keys to the valet for parking. He looks askance at my Beetle, but I ignore him. Taking a deep breath and mentally girding my loins, I head into the hotel.

  Christian is leaning casually against the bar, drinking a glass of white wine. He’s dressed in his customary white linen shirt, black jeans, black tie, and black jacket. His hair is as tousled as ever. I sigh. Of course he looks gorgeous. I stand for a few seconds in the entrance of the bar, gazing at him, admiring the view. He is beyond beautiful. He glances, nervously I think, toward the entrance and stills when he sees me. Blinking a couple of times, he then smiles a slow, lazy, sexy smile that renders me speechless and all molten inside. Making a supreme effort not to bite my lip, I move forward aware that I, Anastasia Steele of Clumsyville, am in high stilettos. He walks gracefully over to meet me.

  “You look stunning,” he murmurs as he leans down to briefly kiss my cheek. “A dress, Miss Steele. I approve.” Taking my arm, he leads me to a secluded booth and signals for the waiter.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  My lips quirk up in a quick, sly smile as I sit and slide into the booth – well, at least he’s asking me.

  “I’ll have what you’re having, please.” See! I can play nice and behave myself.

  Amused, he orders another glass of Sancerre and slides in opposite me.