“Hmm…semantics. But what I’m reading into this situation is that you hold the key to your happiness. You’re in control. You just need to let it in. And not deliberately put obstacles in its way.”
I glance down at the mini orchids on his coffee table. “Can I?” The words are out before I realize I’ve said them out loud.
“Can you what?”
“Let it in.”
“That’s entirely up to you.”
“But what if she leaves?”
He sighs. “There are no certainties in life except death and taxes. Everyone runs the risk of being hurt; you know this. You’ve had more than your fair share of that as a child. But you’re not a child anymore. Give yourself permission to enjoy your life and your wife.”
Is it as simple as that?
“Now. Leila,” he says, and I know we’ve moved on.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Taylor pulls away from the curb as I watch Ana and Prescott disappear into SIP. My uneasy sense of bliss lingers. We’ve had an amazing weekend…more fun and frolics with Mrs. Grey. This is what I’ve been missing from my life.
“Sir.” Taylor distracts me from my happy place.
“Yes?”
“The R8 Spyder for Mrs. Grey will be ready at the end of the week.”
“Excellent. Thanks.”
His gaze does not leave mine in the rearview mirror.
“What?”
“Gail has a suggestion for you, with regard to Mrs. Grey’s birthday.”
“Oh?” I wait for him to tell me more, but he continues to drive. “Are you going to tell me?”
His eyes flick back to mine in the rearview mirror, and in them I see a silent plea. He doesn’t want to rain on her parade.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Thank you, sir.”
My phone buzzes.
ELLIOT
It begins!
He’s attached a photograph of his team taking down one of the rear walls of our house on the coast. It’s a dramatic shot: blue skies, a gaping hole in a wall, clouds of brick dust, and five hulking men in yellow hard hats wielding sledgehammers.
Whoa! Leave some of it standing!
ELLIOT
Don’t get your panties in a wad.
We’re following the plans.
I’d expect no less. Good luck.
In the elevator at Grey House, I check my e-mails.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Sailing & Soaring & Spanking
Date: September 5 2011 09:18
To: Christian Grey
Husband
You sure know how to show a girl a good time.
I shall of course be expecting this kind of treatment every weekend.
You are spoiling me. I love it.
Your wife
xox
Anastasia Grey
Editor, SIP
At my desk, I respond.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: My Life’s Mission…
Date: September 5 2011 09:25
To: Anastasia Grey
Is to spoil you, Mrs. Grey.
And keep you safe because I love you.
Christian Grey
Smitten CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Smitten doesn’t cover it. I want to do something special for her birthday, and I wonder what Mrs. Jones has in mind. I’ll talk to her this evening. In the meantime, I’d like to get Ana something other than the car…a gift that requires a little more creative thought.
As I sip my coffee, an idea slowly forms in my mind.
Something to celebrate all our firsts.
When I finish my coffee, her response is in my inbox.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: My Life’s Mission…
Date: September 5 2011 09:33
To: Christian Grey
Is to let you—because I love you, too.
Now stop being so sappy.
You are making me cry.
Anastasia Grey
Equally Smitten Editor, SIP
I grin. We’re both smitten.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Astoria Fine Jewelry has outdone itself. My lunchtime quest was a success, and I’m delighted with the gift I’ve bought for Ana. I hope she likes it, too. Glancing at her beautiful face on my office wall, I admire her secret smile as she peers down at me, but as ever, she gives nothing away.
Lord, she is lovely.
I find myself grinning at her portrait like the lovesick fool I am.
A man in love with his wife.
Get a grip, Grey.
My plans for Ana’s birthday are falling into place. Mrs. Jones has volunteered to cook a surprise dinner party for Ana, and I’m waiting to hear if all our guests can make it. I’ve offered to send the jet to collect Carla and Bob, Ray is on, and my siblings have both said yes, but I’ve yet to hear from my folks. Ana knows nothing of this, and the event will be the first surprise party I’ve ever organized. I remember, when I bought my apartment pre-construction, how the real estate agent had waxed lyrical about the expansive entertainment space within. I never thought I’d actually get to use it. That wasn’t my life. And now, two years later, I’m hosting a party.
For my wife. Who knew.
It should be fun.
Perhaps we could take everyone to see the new house on Sunday after lunch and check out how Elliot and his team are doing. Or perhaps we could go before, just Ana and me. Maybe on Friday. I check my schedule, but I’m interrupted by a text from Taylor, and a nanosecond later, an e-mail from Ana. I open the e-mail first.
From: Anastasia Grey