Chapter 43 - Old Baggage

To say that Elena is surprised to discover Anastasia with me, as she casually strolls into my apartment, is an understatement. She just gapes open mouthed at her, frozen to the spot. 

I pull Ana close to my side in an attempt to keep her calm and reassured, because I know she’s not going to be at all happy about this particular visitor.

 It’s obvious that Elena’s mistakenly assumed I’ve kept to the old arrangement I used to have with my subs. They only ever stayed at weekends, never on a weekday like today, so naturally Elena expected me to be here on my own. It just proves that she still has not accepted how different the relationship I have with Ana is, compared to the previous fifteen subs.

“I'm sorry. I didn’t realize you had company, Christian. It’s Monday.”

“Girlfriend,” I pointedly remind her. As I have told you countless times, Elena. Stop trying to ignore it, because Ana is here to stay, so you are going to have to get used to it.

“Of course. Hello, Anastasia. I didn’t know you’d be here. I know you don’t want to talk to me. I accept that.” Elena has quickly regained her composure.

“Do you?” Ana sounds surprisingly cool and assertive.

I'm impressed. I can see that she’s not going to let herself be intimidated by Elena, who is dressed from top to toe in her usual choice of elegant but rather boring black.  I prefer pretty blue shirts. 

I can smell Elena’s heavy perfume from the other side of the room. Strange – I used to like it, but now I find it overpowering and cloying. A bit like the woman herself. 

“Yes, I get the message. I'm not here to see you. Like I said, Christian rarely has company during the week.” Elena stares at Ana as if she is some kind of oddity. “I have a problem, and I need to talk to Christian about it.”

“Oh?” Now I’m curious as to what the matter could be. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yes, please,” Elena murmurs gratefully, as she heaves a big sigh and pats her immaculate bleached blonde hair. I prefer long brunette hair, especially when it’s spread over the pillow next to me in bed.

As I bring the wine over, both women sit themselves at the breakfast bar. At least they appear to be managing to be civil to each other. Or ignoring each other. Either suits me just fine.

“What’s up?” I ask Elena, who looks nervously over at Ana. I take her hand, determined that she is going to stay and hear what’s going on. I'm not going to keep anything secret from her, not if I want to earn her trust, when she has such negative feelings about Elena already.
“Anastasia’s with me now.” So whatever you’ve got to say, you’re going to have to say it in front of her. That’s the deal, take it or leave it.

Elena smiles, and her faces softens a little. Just as it used to when she was rewarding me for pleasing her. I think of it as her regal smile, one that she deigns to bestow on her subjects. I know all her expressions extremely well.

“I’m being blackmailed,” she confides, as she nervously toys with the large, ostentatious ring she’s wearing on her middle finger.

Fucking hell. Blackmail. That’s always the nightmare scenario for anyone who has a non-conventional lifestyle. But I’m puzzled; Elena is always so discreet and careful. That’s how come no one discovered our relationship for over six years.

“How?”

She pulls a note out of her purse, and tries to hand it to me, but I instruct her to put it down on the counter, just in case there are useful finger prints on it, although Elena quickly points out that she can't go to the police with it. 

I was thinking more along the lines of letting Welch deal with it. No doubt neither of us feels comfortable at the thought of having the police snooping too closely into our private lives.

“They’re only asking for five thousand dollars. Any idea who it might be? Someone in the community?” I query as I read it.

It’s many years since I was involved with the BDSM community. Mixing in public has never been my thing, I am by nature very much a loner.  Whenever I've needed to acquire a new submissive in recent years, I've always used a very discreet and exclusive online service. 

But something doesn’t seem right about this blackmail attempt, that’s what my gut instinct is telling me. Five thousand dollars seems a ridiculously small amount. Hardly worth the bother of sending the note. 

“No.”

“Linc?”

“What – after all this time? I don’t think so.”

“Does Isaac know?”

I haven’t met Elena’s latest sub, but she’s told me she's happy with him, so their relationship seems sound enough.

“I think he needs to know,” I advise, but Elena shakes her head.

All the while Elena and I have been talking, I've been keeping hold of Ana’s hand as she’s been quietly sitting there. 

Now I feel her trying to extricate herself, but I tighten my grip as I turn to look at her. I don’t want her to feel excluded. I want her here, by my side, so there are no misunderstandings.

“What?” I query.

“I'm tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”

I search her face for clues to try and assess how she’s taking all this, but she keeps a guarded expression, so I can't read her. Is she pissed with me? Surely she understands I have no option but to help my friend in her hour of need?

“Okay. I won’t be long.” I can't make her stay, and it is her choice to leave me with Elena, not mine, so I reluctantly let her go, as Elena bids her goodnight.

Once Ana has left the room, Elena accepts that there is really nothing much I can do to help, then wastes no time in getting onto the subject of my relationship with Ana, as she tells me how happy I look. 

Now I'm wondering if the note was just a pretext, an excuse for her to come over and see me. She knew I was really pissed over her numerous attempts to meet up with Ana behind my back. 

I suspect this may well be the case, as she starts quizzing me about Ana, asking if she understands all my issues.

“She knows me better than anyone,” I insist.

“Ouch. That hurts,” Elena scowls.

Seems she doesn’t like the fact that her position as the only person who truly knows me is being usurped by a beautiful new contender. Puts me in mind of Snow White and the wicked stepmother. Don’t go accepting any apples from her, Ana.

“It’s the truth, Elena. I don’t have to play games with her. And I mean it, leave her alone.”

“What is her problem?”

“You… What we were. What we did. She doesn’t understand.” I'm glad Ana doesn’t understand. It shows how pure and unsullied she is.

“Make her understand.” Why the fuck would I want to do that?

“It’s in the past, Elena, and why would I want to taint her with our fucked-up relationship? She’s good and sweet and innocent, and by some miracle she loves me.”

Elena seems to think it’s not so surprising that Ana loves me, that I'm some kind of a great catch. But she’s missing the point; this new relationship is about much more than money and possessions. I know all that counts for nothing with Ana, and I love that about her. 

For the first time, I feel that a woman is truly interested in just plain Christian, not Mr. Grey, billionaire CEO of GEH. Maybe that’s why I kept hearing her voice playing over and over in my head after our first encounter, when she called me Christian as she was leaving in the elevator, after falling into my office to interview me. Fell headlong right into your life too, didn't she Grey?

“Don't you miss it?”

“What?”

“Your playroom.”

“That really is none of your fucking business.” Elena always has to hark back to that, but I've discovered that it’s really not the be all and end all, as she has always claimed it was for a man like me.

“I’m sorry,” she sneers, with a condescending expression on her face. 

She seems to forget that I'm no longer that impressionable, inexperienced fifteen year old boy from all those years ago. She has no right probing into my private affairs any more.

But Elena always thinks she’s the expert, that only she knows what’s best for me when it comes to my sexual preferences. However, since I’ve met Ana, I've realized that she is actually very ignorant and knows nothing about the true joy of sex. 

All she knows are cold facts regarding the best techniques, without messy details such as emotions or feelings getting in the way of a totally meaningless fuck to satisfy a physical craving. 

And I've had enough of all that now.

“I think you’d better go. And please, call before you come again.”

She can't expect to come marching in here, as if she owns the place. She doesn’t. Things have changed. There’s a new order now, and she has no place in it.

“I don’t want to lose you, Christian.”

“I'm not yours to lose, Elena,” I state, exasperated by her refusal to accept that things have changed.

But before she leaves, I'm curious to learn why she gave Ana the impression that she saw me on the Saturday after we’d broken up, when in reality we only spoke briefly on the phone. That misunderstanding made things harder for me to reconcile with Ana.

"Why did you say what you did to Ana?"

“I wanted her to know how upset you were when she left. I don’t want her to hurt you.”

Her words make me wonder if I've maybe been a touch hard on Elena. It’s just her way of trying to protect me, an old established habit of hers, that’s hard to break after all this time. 

But it doesn't change the fact that she has to learn to stop now. I don't need or welcome this incessant interfering and meddling of hers, especially as all it achieves is to rile Anastasia each and every time.

Before she leaves, we agree that I might as well get Welch to investigate this attempt to blackmail her. I guess it’s the least I can do for her, as she still remains my oldest friend. 

At least she says she will call rather than drop in unannounced next time, although I can't help hoping there aren’t going to be too many ‘next times’, not the way Ana feels about her.

And with that thought, I head off to find Anastasia, to see how she’s taken this visit from the woman she clearly regards as little better than a she devil.

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.