Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 177137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 886(@200wpm)___ 709(@250wpm)___ 590(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 886(@200wpm)___ 709(@250wpm)___ 590(@300wpm)
“Yes, it is,” I whisper, and I sit down beside her and open her MacBook Pro. I click on Safari, log in to my e-mail, and begin to work through them.
Once that’s done, I e-mail Taylor and let him know that I’d like Sawyer to accompany Ana tomorrow. The only outstanding detail is deciding where Sawyer will be while Ana is at work.
This we will figure out in the morning.
I check my schedule. I have a meeting at 8:30 with Ros and Vanessa in procurement to discuss the conflict mineral issue.
I’m tired.
Ana is fast asleep as I lay down beside her. I watch her chest rise and fall with each breath. Over such a short time she has become so dear to me.
“Ana, I love you,” I whisper. “Thank you for today. Please stay.” And I close my eyes.
MONDAY, JUNE 13, 2011
* * *
Seattle’s morning news wakes me with a report about the Angels’ upcoming game with the Mariners. When I turn my head, Ana is awake and watching me. “Good morning,” she says with a bright smile. She caresses my stubbly cheek with her fingers and kisses me.
“Good morning, baby.” I’m surprised that I’ve slept so long. “I usually wake before the alarm goes off.”
“It’s set so early,” Ana whines.
“That it is, Miss Steele. I have to get up.” I kiss her and bound out of bed.
In my closet, I pull on my sweats and grab my iPod. I check on Ana before I leave; she’s gone back to sleep.
Good. She’s had an action-packed weekend. As have I.
Yes. What a weekend.
I resist the urge to kiss her good-bye, and let her sleep. Glancing through the windows, I see that the sky is overcast, but I don’t think it’s raining. I’ll chance a run, rather than my gym.
“Mr. Grey?” Ryan accosts me in the foyer.
“Good morning, Ryan.”
“Sir. You’re going out?” He probably thinks he needs to join me.
“I’ll be fine, Ryan. Thank you.”
“Mr. Taylor—”
“I’ll be fine.” I step into the elevator and leave Ryan in the foyer looking uncertain, probably second-guessing his decision. Leila was never one for an early morning…just like Ana. I think I’ll be safe.
It’s drizzling outside. But I don’t care. With “Bittersweet Symphony” blasting in my ears I set off, sprinting down Fourth Avenue.
My mind clouds with chaotic images of all that has happened over the last few days: Ana at the ball, Ana on my boat, Ana at the hotel.
Ana. Ana. Ana.
My life has been completely overturned to the point that I’m not sure I recognize myself.
Elena’s words come back to me: “Have you turned your back on who you are?”
Have I?
“I can’t change—” The words from the song echo through my head.
The truth is, I like being in her company. I like having her in my home. I’d like her to stay. Permanently. She’s brought humor, restful sleep, vitality, and love into my monochrome existence. I didn’t know I was lonely until I met her.
But she won’t want to move in, will she? While Leila is still at large it makes sense for her to stay, but once she’s found, Ana will go. I can’t make her stay, though part of me would like to. But in the interim, if she ever finds out the truth about me, she’ll leave and never want to see me again.
No one can love a monster.
And when she leaves…
Hell.
I run harder and faster, trying to clear my confusion until I’m conscious only of my bursting lungs and my Nikes hitting the ground.
MRS. JONES IS IN the kitchen when I get back from my run. “Good morning, Gail.”
“Mr. Grey, good morning.”
“Did Taylor tell you about Leila?”
“Yes, sir. I hope you find her. She needs help.” Gail’s face is full of concern.
“She does.”
“I understand Miss Steele is still here.” She gives me that weird little smile she has whenever we talk about Ana.
“I think she’ll be staying as long as Leila is a threat. She’ll need a packed lunch today.”
“Okay. What would you like for breakfast?”
“Scrambled eggs, toast.”
“Very good, sir.”
ONCE I’M SHOWERED AND dressed, I decide to wake Ana. She’s still fast asleep. I kiss her temple. “Come on, sleepyhead, get up.” Her eyes open and close again, and she takes a deep breath.
“What?” I ask.
“I wish you’d come back to bed.”
Don’t tempt me, baby.
“You are insatiable, Miss Steele. As much as that idea appeals, I have an eight-thirty meeting, so I have to go shortly.”
Startled, Ana looks at the clock, pushes me aside to leap out of bed, and dashes into the bathroom. Shaking my head, amused at her sudden burst of energy, I pop a few condoms into my pants pocket, then saunter into the kitchen for some breakfast.
You never know, Grey. I’ve learned that it’s good to be prepared around Anastasia Steele.
Mrs. Jones is making coffee.
“Your scrambled eggs will be ready in a moment, Mr. Grey.”