Web Fic
Chapter 91
Chapter 91
A+ A++
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Her response is almost as immediate.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Grown Up
Date: June 13 2011 10:48
To: Christian Grey
Christian
I don’t need protecting from my own boss.
He may make a pass at me, but I would say no.
You cannot interfere. It’s wrong and controlling on so many levels.
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
“Controlling” is my middle name, Ana. I think I’ve told you this already, along with “unreasonable” and “weird.”
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: The Answer is NO
Date: June 13 2011 10:50
To: Anastasia Steele
Ana
I have seen how “effective” you are at fighting off unwanted attention. I remember that’s how I had the pleasure of
spending my first night with you. At least the photographer has feelings for you. The sleazeball, on the other hand,
does not. He is a serial philanderer, and he will try to seduce you. Ask him what happened to his previous PA and
the one before that.
I don’t want to fight about this.
If you want to go to New York, I’ll take you. We can go this weekend. I have an apartment there.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
She doesn’t reply immediately, and I distract myself with phone calls.
Welch has nothing new on Leila. We discuss whether or not to involve the police at this stage; I’m still reluctant to
do it.
“She’s close, Mr. Grey,” Welch says.
“She’s clever. She’s managed to evade us so far.”
“We’re watching your place, SIP, Grey House. She won’t slip past us again.”
“I hope she doesn’t. And thanks for the report on Hyde.”
“You’re welcome. I can dig deeper if you wish.”
“It’s fine for now. But I may get back to you.”
“Okay, sir.”
“Bye.” I hang up.
My phone buzzes before I’ve let go of the receiver. “I have your mother on the line,” Montana chirps in a singsong
voice. Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
Shit. That’s all I need. I’m still a little pissed at my mom and her comment about Ana being after my money.
“Put her through,” I mutter.
“Christian, darling,” Grace says.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Darling, I just wanted to apologize for what I said on Saturday. You know I think the world of Ana, it’s just…all of
this is so sudden.”
“It’s fine.” But it’s not fine.
She’s quiet for a moment and I think she’s doubting the sincerity of my response.
However, I’m already arguing with one woman in my life; I don’t want to argue with another. “Grace?”
“Sorry, darling. It’s your birthday on Saturday and we wanted to organize a party.”
On my computer screen an e-mail from Ana appears.
“Mom, I can’t talk now. I have to go.”
“Okay, call me.” She sounds melancholy, but I don’t have time for her right now.
“Yes. Sure.”
“Bye, Christian.”
“Bye.” I hang up.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: FW Lunch date or Irritating Baggage
Date: June 13 2011 11:15
To: Christian Grey
Christian
While you have been busy interfering in my career and saving your ass from my careless missives, I received the
following e-mail from Mrs. Lincoln. I really don’t want to meet with her—even if I did, I am not allowed to leave this
building. How she got hold of my e-mail address, I don’t know. What would you suggest I do? Her e-mail is below:
Dear Anastasia, I would really like to have lunch with you. I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to make
that right. Are you free sometime this week?
Elena Lincoln
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
Oh, this day just gets better and better. What the hell is Elena doing now? And Ana is calling me out on my shit as
usual.
I didn’t know arguing could be so tiresome. And discouraging. And worrying. She’s mad at me.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Irritating Baggage
Date: June 13 2011 11:23
To: Anastasia Steele
Don’t be mad at me. I have your best interests at heart.
If anything happened to you, I would never forgive myself.
I’ll deal with Mrs. Lincoln.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Irritating baggage? I smile for the first time since I left Ana this morning. She has a way with words.
I call Elena.
“Christian,” she answers on the fifth ring.
“Do I have to get a banner and attach it to a plane and fly it over your office?”
She laughs. “My e-mail?”
“Yes, Ana sent it to me. Please. Leave her alone. She doesn’t want to see you. And I understand and respect that.
You’re making my life really difficult.”
“You understand her?”
“Yes.”
“I think she needs to know how hard you are on yourself.”
“No. She doesn’t need to know anything.”
“You sound exhausted.”
“I’m just tired of you going behind my back and chasing my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Yes. Girlfriend. Get used to it.”
She sighs long and hard.
“Elena. Please.”
“Okay, Christian, it’s your funeral.”
What the fuck?
“I have to go,” I answer.
“Good-bye,” she says, and she sounds annoyed.
“Bye.” I hang up.
The women in my life are vexing. I turn in my chair and stare out of the window. The rain is relentless. The sky is
dark and drab, reflecting my mood. Life has become complicated. It used to be easier when everything and
everyone stayed where I placed them, in their designated compartments. Now, with Ana, everything’s changed.
This is all new, and so far everyone, including my mother, seems to be pissed at me or pissing me off.
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