Chapter 31 - A Different Proposition

We’re sat together at Le Picotin, a small restaurant that had reasonable reviews when I checked the area surrounding the gallery for somewhere half decent for us to eat. Apparently, they have a new chef that everyone is raving about, so we’ll see how good he actually is. The restaurant is small and cramped, not my usual kind of place, but it’ll have to do. 

At least we get a table in a small alcove to give us some privacy. The meal doesn’t exactly get off to a great start. For the sake of expediency I order for both us, which apparently Anastasia objects to. I tell her she’s being childish, just as she was in leading the boy on with her actions, giving him the wrong idea, just to make me jealous. Very immature of her. She blushes as she realizes that I have a point, and that she’s acted rather thoughtlessly towards her supposed friend.

So I offer to let her choose the wine, knowing full well she’ll have no idea what to pick out. She backs down rather sullenly, and so I order. I’ve made my point.

We end up with a whole bottle of the Barossa Valley Shiraz, as the waiter irritatingly informs me that they don’t do it by the glass. Then just open a bottle, for fuck's sake.

Ana informs me I’m very grumpy. Is she really surprised, all things considered? But I apologize, and then get to the point of why we’re here.

“Ana, the last time we spoke you left me. I’m a little nervous. I’ve told you I want you back, and you’ve said… nothing.”

 I stare at her to try and gauge her reaction. I'm dying here. I need something back from her, some kind of a hint or sign to let me know if I’m wasting my time. Do I stand a chance at all in winning her back?

She squirms in her seat and looks uncomfortable. Not promising.

“I’ve missed you… really missed you, Christian. The past few days have been… difficult. But nothing’s changed. I can’t be what you want me to be.”

“You are what I want you to be.” Unquestionably. That’s why the last five days have been such purgatory. There is no doubt whatsoever in my mind.

“No, Christian, I’m not.” She doesn’t understand yet. I have to make her understand.

“You’re upset because of what happened last time. I behaved stupidly, and you… So did you. Why didn’t you safe word, Anastasia?” 

She just blinks at me. I still don’t get why she didn’t safe word, if she was that distressed by what I was doing. I would have stopped instantly. What was her reason? Trying to be brave for me? Trying to prove a point? Was she scared of admitting defeat? Scared of me? This has been eating away at me, and I need to understand.

“Answer me.”

“I don’t know. I was overwhelmed. I was trying to be what you wanted me to be, trying to deal with the pain, and it went out of my mind. You know… I forgot,” she shrugs.

Of all the possible reasons I thought Ana might come up with for why she didn’t safe word, this had never occurred to me. She forgot. She just fucking forgot? How can anyone possibly forget to safe word in such a situation? I’d gone over and over what the words were with her. If she had only fucking well remembered to use her word, then maybe we could have avoided this whole nightmare.

“How can I trust you, ever?” I’m appalled by her stupidity and her frankly careless attitude about something so critical.

If she could forget to use it under these circumstances, when the fuck would she ever remember to use it?  I stare hard at her, trying to get her to understand how irresponsible she’s been. She resolutely stares back at me, seemingly not willing to accept any of the blame. 

But she freely consented to go into my playroom; it was her suggestion that I show her how hard it would be - her idea, not mine, although I admit I willingly went along with it, once I’d made up my mind. 

But I certainly didn't coerce her, or twist her arm in any way. I only went ahead with the scene, because I thought she’d safe word if it got too much for her. That was the deal. 

But she broke the rules. She forgot, for crying out loud. This is what comes of her not being a properly trained submissive. That’s what Elena would tell you, isn’t it? Keep to your own kind in future. Your own perverted, twisted kind.

The waiter interrupts us as he brings the wine, and the impasse is broken.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers sadly.

Sorry? What does she mean? She’s sorry it won’t work between us? Sorry that it’s over?

“Sorry for what?”

“Not using the safe word.”

I heave a sigh of relief. She’s not saying we’re through. Not yet, anyway.

“We might have avoided all this suffering.” I can’t believe the agony and despair the lack of her remembering to utter one simple little word has caused us here.

“You look fine,” she retorts. Are you kidding? Fine?  This is just a mask, baby.

“Appearances can be deceptive. I’m anything but fine. I feel like the sun has set and not risen for five days, Ana. I’m in perpetual night here.” Just because I haven’t starved myself like you, does not indicate that I’m fine. “You said you’d never leave, yet the going gets tough and you’re out the door.”

“When did I say I’d never leave?”

“In your sleep. It was the most comforting thing I’d heard in so long, Anastasia. It made me relax.”  

People don’t lie in their sleep, so I thought she really meant it. I was just waiting for her to repeat it when she was fully awake, then that would have confirmed it was the real deal. But she left me before she ever did.

But now I need to know the answer to one simple, but very important question. Everything Flynn has advised me to work towards really hinges on the answer to my next question. But it’s not easy for me to get the unfamiliar words out, because I’ve never used them in this context before. I feel very vulnerable and unsure of myself.

“You said you loved me. Is that now in the past tense?” I’ve probably snuffed out the tiny flame that she might have had burning for me, before it ever really had a chance to properly get going.

“No, Christian, it’s not,” she says shyly, as she glances up at me with those big blue eyes of hers, that seem to see right into my soul. Those eyes reassure me that she is being totally honest and sincere, and I feel myself relax.

“Good.” I let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding. If she had said no… well, I don’t think I could have held it together.

There is hope then. Maybe Flynn was right, that when it’s real love, you can’t just walk away. 

Real love. Is that truly what this is? I don’t even dare to let myself believe that I can experience it. A man like me has no business thinking in those terms. Does he?

The food arrives. The service has been prompt, and it looks pretty good.

“Eat,” I urge her. I really can’t relax until I’ve seen her eat something. Worry about the state of her health is nagging away at me. Why is she so neglectful of herself in this way? Her issues need to be addressed sometime in the very near future. Flynn is eager to meet her, so maybe he can do some probing if he gets the chance.

I can see that she’s panicking as she looks at the large plate of food set down in front of her.  I was hoping she’d have built up a healthy appetite, but I guess she’s gotten out of the habit of eating properly. This is the problem when you get into bad eating habits. That's why the rules about eating properly are necessary. It’s so fucking frustrating watching her, and I can’t help myself, I have to say something.

“So help me God, Anastasia, if you don’t eat, I will take you across my knee here in this restaurant, and it will have nothing to do with my sexual gratification. Eat!”  I’ll fucking well force feed you if I have to. Seriously, I will.

“Okay, I’ll eat. Stow your twitching palm, please,” she begs, looking round self-consciously.

I continue watching as she slowly cuts into the steak and finally starts to eat. I relax a little. Food has actually passed her lips. As she tastes the surprisingly good steak, she relaxes a bit more and continues to eat. Thank God for that, but I can’t help watching to make sure she continues whilst I eat too. I never waste good food, I always clear my plate unless there is something wrong with it.

There’s a woman singing in the background, although neither of us is sure who it is. We both agree she’s good though. I smile to myself, thinking of the special play list I’ve compiled on the iPad I’m planning to give Ana. I really hope she’s going to like it; there are a lot of good tracks on it. That’s another thing we have in common - music. She’s liked all the music I’ve introduced her to so far, and I could take her to all sorts of concerts. It would be great to share that with her, we’d both really enjoy it.

Then I notice she’s stopped eating.

“I can’t manage any more. Have I eaten enough for Sir?” she asks tentatively. I manage to overlook her insolent tone.

I want to insist she finishes all her food, but as I look at the time, I realize we need to leave soon anyway. It was a big plateful of food and she has eaten about half of it. That will have to do for now. It’s not a bad start.

“I am really full,” she insists as she sips her wine, which was also surprisingly good. 

It’s nine already, so I ask for the check and call Taylor to tell him where we are, now that he’s made it here to Portland. Ana tells me I’m brusque with Taylor. What does she expect – I tell him what he needs to know, so I don’t need to read him a fucking fairy story, do I? I just get to the point quickly, I inform her.

“You haven’t got to the point this evening. Nothing’s changed, Christian,” she states.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“This started with a proposition.”

“A different proposition.”

Taylor texts to say he’s waiting outside, so I pay the bill and we head out.

“I don’t want to lose you, Anastasia,” I tell her as we walk out, and I take her small hand in mine to kiss it. She hasn’t heard my new proposition yet. If this is going to work, I have to get her to really open up, to be frank and honest with me, but I know she feels inhibited by having other people around. So after I help her get in the car, I go up front and speak with Taylor.

“Have you got your iPod with you?” I ask him.

“Er… yes, sir,” he responds, rather puzzled and not sure why I'm asking. I know he often listens to it while he’s waiting in the car for me.

“I want Miss Steele to feel able to converse with me freely and openly on the way back, but she can be quite shy. So, I know it’s not advisable for you to listen to music with your ear buds in while you’re driving, but can you just make out like you are?” 

I know he would never agree to compromise any of his senses while he is driving and responsible for ensuring the safety of his charges, and neither would I expect him to.

I look at him. The penny drops. He gets my meaning.

“No problem, I understand, Mr. Grey. And I can put some music on the car system to… er… create a suitable… ambiance, if that would assist at all, sir?” 

“Yes, fine, I’ll leave the choice up to you."

I've discovered over the years that Taylor has a surprisingly good taste in nice, soothing classical music, not something you’d guess when you first set eyes on him. Puccini is a particular favorite of his. He’s a man of many hidden talents.  From selecting classical music, to knowing the quickest and quietest way to kill someone, Taylor’s your man.

And sure enough, once we get going and I start opening up to her, I see Ana looking over at Taylor nervously. So I reassure her that he can’t hear us, and Taylor plays along like a pro, as he acts deaf and ignores me. I guess acting a role would have been all part of working undercover when he was in the Special Forces.  I have no concerns about whether he listens to us or not.  He’s heard many things during the time he’s worked for me. If he’s ever been shocked, he’s never reacted or shown it in any way.

I know I can trust him implicitly, or he wouldn’t be working for me. I’d hate to lose him, because he would be impossible to replace, so naturally he is very well remunerated with many extra benefits. I’m not looking forward to finding the extra close protection staff we need, of the caliber I demand, but I know it’s necessary. Taylor can’t be expected to be in two places at once, working 24/7/365.

“Okay, your proposition?” Ana asks, now she’s reassured we won’t be overheard.

So this is it. The most important merger and acquisition I’ve ever negotiated is about to go down. Let’s hope I've got the pitch right to swing the deal.

“Let me ask you something first. Do you want a regular vanilla relationship with no kinky fuckery at all?” 

I think I’ve worked out where we’ll need to draw the line of what she finds acceptable, but I need her to confirm this, to ensure that I've got it absolutely right. There has to be no chance whatsoever of any misunderstandings. I can’t go through these last few days again - ever.

“Kinky fuckery?” she squeals, apparently shocked by my terminology. What's her problem? I think it’s a pretty accurate description of what I think she likes and can handle.

“Kinky fuckery.” I confirm calmly.

“I can’t believe you said that.” She glances nervously at Taylor, who hasn’t reacted in the slightest. Good man. He's not easily shockable, although I can’t see his face, of course.

“Well, I did. Answer me.”

I see her flush as she takes in what I mean. Vanilla, with lots of extra tasty treats. Extreme vanilla maybe. Vanilla with added benefits. Call it what you will. After a couple of minutes mulling this over, she answers.

“I like your kinky fuckery,” she confesses in a whisper. Yes! I knew it.

“That’s what I thought. So what don’t you like?” I think I know the answer to this too, but I want her to spell it out exactly for me, so we are crystal clear.

“The threat of cruel and unusual punishment.”

“What does that mean?” We have to be totally clear on this.

“Well, you have all those canes and whips and stuff in your playroom, and they frighten the living daylights out of me. I don’t want you to use them on me.” Pretty much what Flynn surmised when he saw your playroom, Grey. He was amazed she didn’t turn tail and run straight out when she first saw them.

“Okay, so no whips or canes – or belts, for that matter.” I could never bring myself to use that belt again in any case. Never. Not now I’ve worked out its significance. 

“Are you attempting to redefine the hard limits?” she queries, puzzled.

“Not as such, I'm just trying to understand you, get a clearer picture of what you do and don’t like.”

“Fundamentally, Christian, it’s your joy in inflicting pain on me that’s difficult for me to handle. And the idea that you’ll do it because I have crossed some arbitrary line.” She thinks you're a sadist.Well, you are, so you can't really argue with her assessment.

“But it’s not arbitrary; the rules are written down.” Couldn't really be any clearer, could it?

“I don’t want a set of rules.” Rebellious, defiant girl.

“None at all?” Maybe just a few of the most important ones?

“No rules.” She shakes her head vehemently. Nope. She’s having none of it. You’ll have to just swallow this, Grey. She’s sure as hell not going to shift on it.

“But you don’t mind if I spank you?” I think this is where our paths start to converge, where we start to have something in common, if I’ve got this right. She’s let me spank her twice now, so she must be pretty okay with it.

“Spank me with what?”

“This.” I hold up my hand. Best God given implement there is for bestowing a great spanking.

“No, not really. Especially with those silver balls…” That was a stroke of pure genius, Grey, introducing her to the delights of the Ben Wa balls. She fucking loves them now. Nice bit of erotic kink for her.

“Yes, that was fun.” I agree with a smirk. Spankophilia. Yes, I’m a Spankophile. I love giving Ana a good OTK Erotic Spanking.This we can work with.

“More than fun,” she whispers. And I think you might just become a Spankophile too, under my expert tutelage, Miss Steele. See, we have so much in common, once you just relax and let me take control.

“So you can deal with some pain.” Pain is an aphrodisiac, once you learn to channel it. You just need to get your head around this.

“Yes, I suppose so.” And you’re learning.

 I was sure Ana had enjoyed that experience, and she’s just confirmed that I wasn’t wrong. I'm sure she’ll also enjoy lots of other things I could do with her, if she opens up her mind and trusts me, but that’s the whole point.  I have to build up her trust slowly, after what happened before, if I'm lucky enough to be given a second chance with her. 

But I also truly believe that basic vanilla would not be enough for her in the long run, because she has a wicked adventurous streak, and an amazingly high sex drive. That’s why we’re such a good match, and maybe why I pushed her too hard. 

My stupid, stupid mistake. 

She’d taken everything up till then so well, that I thought she’d experienced enough to understand how pain inevitably leads to a higher plain of pleasure, if you just let yourself go with it, but I was wrong. That level of pain just scared and frightened her, and I'm never taking that risk again. Especially if I can’t trust her to safe word.

“Anastasia, I want to start again. Do the vanilla thing and then maybe, once you trust me more and I trust you to be honest and to communicate with me, we could move on and do some of the things that I like to do.”

She stares at me. I can’t tell in the darkness if she’s horrified, or hopefully reacting in a more positive way.  She surely can’t deny that we’ve had some really fantastic fucks together. And we could have so many more great shared experiences. 

“But what about punishments?”

“No punishments. None.” I tell her adamantly. If that’s what it takes to get her back, then that’s what we’ll go with. I can’t say it’ll be easy for me, but I’ll just have to adapt.

“And the rules?”

“No rules.” Won’t stop me trying to guide her along those lines though, will it? Just to keep her safe and well. But nothing formally written down.

“None at all? But you have needs.” Now she sounds like Elena, and I really don’t want to think about her right now. I know she would not approve of what I'm doing here. But I’ll prove them both wrong. I can handle it.

“I need you more, Anastasia. These last few days have been purgatory. All my instincts tell me to let you go, tell me I don’t deserve you. Those photos the boy took… I can see how he sees you. You look so untroubled and beautiful, not that you’re not beautiful now, but here you sit. I see your pain. It’s hard knowing that I'm the one who has made you feel this way. But I'm a selfish man. I’ve wanted you since you fell into my office. You are exquisite, honest, warm, strong, witty, beguilingly innocent; the list is endless. I am in awe of you. I want you, and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twisting in my dark soul.”

This is it. I’m pouring out my feelings to her in a very rare way for me. It’s not easy, but I have to make her understand what she means to me.

“Christian, why do you think you have a dark soul? I would never say that. Sad maybe, but you're a good man. I can see that… you’re generous, you’re kind, and you’ve never lied to me. And I haven’t tried very hard. Last Saturday was such a shock to my system. It was my wake-up call. I realized that you’d been easy on me, and that I couldn’t be the person you wanted me to be. Then, after I left, it dawned on me that the physical pain you inflicted was not as bad as the pain of losing you. I do want to please you, but it’s hard."

“You please me all the time,” I whisper. “How often do I have to tell you that?” No one else has ever pleased me the way you do, baby.

“I never know what you’re thinking. Sometimes you’re so closed off… like an island state. You intimidate me. That’s why I keep quiet. I don’t know which way your mood is going to go. It swings from north to south and back again in a nanosecond. It’s confusing and you won’t let me touch you, and I want to so much to show you how much I love you.” That’s exactly what Flynn said her reason was. Shit, that guy knows what he’s talking about.

Suddenly she’s unbuckled her seat belt so she can climb onto my lap, and she’s taken my head in her hands to look me straight in the eyes.

“I love you, Christian Grey. And you’re prepared to do all this for me. I’m the one who is undeserving, and I'm just sorry that I can’t do all those things for you. Maybe with time… I don’t know… but yes, I accept your proposition. Where do I sign?”

“Oh Ana.”

She’s said that she does still love me, so I’m going to go right ahead and take that love, even though I don’t deserve it, because I just can’t help myself. I can hardly dare to believe that she's actually agreed to my proposition. 

She’s said yes. We can start over.  I can see the light streaming back into my life again. There is a point to my existence now. Maybe all sorts of things might be possible. I’m not going to fuck up this time. No way.

And Taylor must be some kind of a fucking genius, because at that moment, as I'm holding Ana tightly in my arms, the most romantic piece of classical piano music starts playing on the sound system. Rhapsody On A Theme Of Paganini, by Rachmaninoff.  He can’t have done that on purpose, can he? No, he’d never be that stupidly romantic, would he?

As Ana snuggles up to me and rests her head in the crook of my neck, I gently stroke her back. This is where you belong, baby. Right here in my arms. I never want to let you go now you’re back here.

“Touching is a hard limit for me, Anastasia,” I remind her.

“I know. I wish I understood why,” she murmurs sweetly.

I hate to talk about the reasons why I am like I am, but I realize that she needs to have some understanding of what fucked me up so badly, why I've turned out the way I have.

“I had a horrific childhood. One of the crack whore’s pimps…” I usually push all this as far to the back of my mind as I can, so it’s hard bringing it out into the open. It’s like reliving my nightmare while I'm awake, and it makes me shudder involuntarily. “I can remember that.”

I remember the pimp dragging me out from my hiding place under the bed. I remember him kicking me with those big hard boots he always wore and then hitting me over and over again with his leather belt, as I cringed in the corner of the room, unable to escape from him. I remember how he took great pleasure in using me as his human ashtray to slowly stub his cigarette out – sometimes he’d use my back, sometimes my chest. Either way, the pain was always excruciating. I remember that.

Ana instinctively tightens her arms around my neck to sweetly try and comfort me. It feels really good. She feels really good. She feels fucking amazing, actually. Soft and warm and lovely.

“Was she abusive? Your mother?” she asks me emotionally. I knew this would upset her, but there’s no avoiding the fact that it is upsetting. I wish I could spare her, but I guess she has a right to know. No secrets. Open and honest. That was Flynn’s advice, and it feels right. Not easy, but right.

“Not that I remember. She was neglectful. She didn’t protect me from her pimp. I think it was me who looked after her. When she finally killed herself, it took four days for someone to raise the alarm and find us… I can remember that.”

Anastasia gasps in horror.

I wish I didn’t remember this part, but I do. I was only a four year old little boy, and I didn’t understand how my mommy could stay asleep on the floor for so long. I remember brushing her hair to see if she would wake up, because I knew she liked me doing that, but she didn’t move. I remember how cold she felt, and how I put my blankie over her to try and make her warm again. I remember waiting and waiting, as I played with my two little toy cars, but she still didn’t wake up. I remember being starving hungry, really literally starving. All I could find were some peas in the freezer, so I ate them, and something else that I didn’t even know what it was, but I ate it anyway, and then dragged a chair to climb up to the sink to drink some water from the tap to wash it down, because it made me feel sick. And still Mommy stayed asleep. Then the door crashed open. It was him. He shouted and swore, as he kicked me out of the way, and I remember my head crashing on the floor, which really hurt. I remember him leaving again, and the sound of him locking the door behind him. Then there was silence. I don’t know how much time passed after that, but the next thing I remember is a policewoman dragging me away from my mommy as I screamed and kicked when she  touched me.  I tried to tell her that I wanted to stay with Mommy until she woke up, but I had no words, so I couldn't tell her, and I was just dragged away.

 “That’s pretty fucked-up,” Ana whispers, as she softly strokes my cheek to show her compassion.

“Fifty shades,” I agree.

As I keep Ana tightly wrapped up in my arms, I breathe in her delicious scent, while she gently and tenderly kisses my neck. I know this is her way of trying to kiss me better, and I never want her to stop. She will be kissing me better for ever more, if I get my way. And she does make me better, always.

~~~

Anastasia falls asleep in my arms, curled up on my lap like a sweet little kitten. I should make her sit back with her seat belt on, but having her close like this feels too good to move her away.  

I love watching her sleep. The gentle, calming rhythm of her breathing is soothing and she looks so beautiful and peaceful. I like the way her dark lashes curl on her cheek. I like her sweet little nose. I like feeling the soft little tendrils of baby hair she has along her hairline. I like her pretty little ears, with the delicate silver earrings she’s wearing, although I want her to have diamonds to wear instead. 

I want her to have the very best of everything. I want to give her so many lovely things to show her off to her full potential, although I don’t think she could ever look more beautiful than she does right now. She’s such a natural beauty, and I could gaze at her all night. I want her to help me redistribute my considerable wealth in so many ways, because without her it’s all meaningless and pointless. 

She’s become my most valuable and irreplaceable asset. We can share so many things together, now she’s given me another chance. 

I feel like the luckiest man on the planet.

~~~

She doesn’t wake until we get back to Seattle, when she stirs and sleepily stretches as she apologizes. No need for that, baby. You can fall asleep in my arms anytime.  It’s where you belong.

“We’re nearly at your place.” I’ve instructed Taylor to head there first.

“We’re not going to yours?”

“No.”

“Why not?” She turns her gaze on me.

“Because you have work tomorrow.” Once we get into the bedroom together – well, any room really – she’s not going to get much sleep. Best to wait until Friday night. Then we can really let ourselves go.

Ana pouts very prettily at me. She is so sweet and sexy. Irresistible. Except I know I have to resist. I can’t help teasing her though.

“Why, did you have something in mind?” Because I know I most certainly do.

“Well, maybe,” she teases back.

“Anastasia, I am not going to touch you again, not until you beg me to.”

“What!”

“So you’ll start communicating with me. Next time we make love, you’re going to have to tell me exactly what you want in fine detail.” 

I’m going to make love to her. I'm not going to selfishly fuck her hard as was my previous modus operandi.  Anastasia is most certainly not just a convenient receptacle for my sexual needs. She deserves so much more.

As we arrive at her apartment, I shift her off my lap so I can climb out. As I open the door for her, I tell her,

“I have something for you.” I get the box out of the trunk. “Open it when you get inside.” Then you can’t hand any of it back. Please just accept these things graciously. Please. 

It contains her MacBook Pro, and her cell. These are my lifelines to her. I have to know I can contact her whenever I need to. The box also contains the new iPad, which I’m hoping she’s going to appreciate.

“You’re not coming in?” Don’t tempt me.

“No, Anastasia.”

“So when will I see you?”

“Tomorrow.” 

“My boss wants me to go for a drink with him tomorrow.” What?

“Does he now?” Of course he fucking does.

“To celebrate my first week.” I knew he’d be trouble, just fucking knew it.

“Where?” Wherever it is, I’ll be right there too, baby, have no fear about that.

“I don’t know.”

“I could pick you up from there.” Her covert close protection team will be on the case anyway. I’m taking no chances with that fucker. She should be safe in the office I suppose, although I'm not happy about it, but once he’s lured her away, that’s when he’d pounce on her.

“Okay… I’ll email or text you.” Make sure you do, but I’ll find you anyway.

“Good.”

I walk her to the lobby door, and wait while she fumbles for her keys in her purse. Why do women always carry so much shit in there that they can never find anything? Beats me.  

As she unlocks the door, I lean forward and take her chin to tilt her head back. My mouth hovers over hers, and I close my eyes as I run a trail of kisses from the corner of her eye to the corner of her mouth. She moans, and I know she feels the desire unfurling inside her just as I do. But it’s late. I mustn’t give in to temptation.

“Until tomorrow.” Can’t come soon enough, baby.

“Goodnight Christian,” she whispers, her voice deep and husky. So sexy.

“In you go. Laters, baby.”

Then I force myself to leave and head back to the car. I understand what the expression ‘walking on air’ means now. Because that’s what I'm doing. The heavy weight of despair I’ve been carrying around with me has lifted, and I feel like a new man.  I am going to be a new man now, the kind of man that Anastasia needs to take care of her. 

As Taylor drives us back the short distance to Escala, I let out a sigh of relief, and then close my eyes for a few minutes, as I lean back to relax against the leather seat. 

A new beginning.  

I’ve been granted a reprieve from eternal darkness. 

I can start to live again.

As we arrive at our destination, Taylor and I make our way up in the elevator together.

“Any amendments that I need to be aware of for tomorrow’s schedule, sir?” he inquires  His face is as impassive as ever, but since he no doubt heard pretty much all of the conversation between Ana and me on the journey back tonight, he’s obviously aware that things are back on between us.

“I’ll update you once I get more details, but I’ll be meeting Miss Steele sometime after she finishes work tomorrow at 17:45. Our plans for the evening are still somewhat fluid at this time; I’ll keep you under advisement. The rest of the schedule for tomorrow remains unchanged.”

“Very good, sir.”

“And Taylor…”

“Sir?”

“Get Welch to double check the intel on this Jack Hyde fucker at SIP. Tell him to dig a bit deeper. I can’t help thinking we’ve missed something on him. It's just a gut feeling.”

I know Ana doesn’t actually have to share an office with him, so that’s good.  And I've already ordered the surveillance team to place covert cameras in the offices where Ana is based, so they can keep a close eye on things. 

 Maybe I’m just jealous of the fucker for being Ana’s boss, because he gets to see her all day at work. He can gaze freely at her delectable ass and get turned on imagining what he’d like to do to her. He gets to order her around, he even gets her to go for drinks with him after work. 

But even so, something about Jack Hyde just doesn’t add up to me, and my gut instinct is rarely wrong. And now I’ll be meeting him in person tomorrow to size him up, when I collect Ana from wherever they end up going for their after work drink. Can’t fucking wait.

“Of course, Mr. Grey. I’ll get straight onto it.”

“Oh, and er... nice selection of music tonight. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Grey.”  

And I think he almost looks pleased with himself, as we go our separate ways into the apartment. 

   

Here are some of Taylor’s possible classical choices: 

Puccini - Agnus Dei:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x74ie08j5-A

 Puccini - O Mio Babbino Caro: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJujPn11_o0

Rachmaninoff - Rhapsody On A Theme Of Paganini:
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKZbvluHcNo

  

Beethoven - Moonlight Sonata: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NxbnCCXw9M

Bach - Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HSZg6sQ5J2k

Bach - Air On A G String: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2j-frfK-yg

I don’t own any of the Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters therein. They belong to E L James. I’m just borrowing them for fun and not for profit. Please refer to the Legal’s page for further details. This work is not to be copied or reproduced in any way without permission.