“See how good we are together? If you give yourself to me, it will be so much better. Trust me, Anastasia, I can take you places you don’t even know exist.” Our foreheads touch and I close my eyes.
Please say yes.
We hear voices outside the door.
What the hell?
It’s Taylor and Grace.
“Shit! It’s my mother.”
Ana cringes as I pull out of her.
Leaping out of bed, I throw the condom in the wastepaper basket.
What the hell is my mother doing here?
Taylor has diverted her, thank heaven. Well, she’s about to get a surprise.
Ana is still prostrate on the bed. “Come on, we need to get dressed—that’s if you want to meet my mother.” I smile at Ana as I pull on my jeans. She looks adorable.
“Christian—I can’t move,” she protests, but she’s grinning, too.
Leaning down, I undo the tie and kiss her forehead.
My mother is going to be thrilled.
“Another first,” I whisper, unable to shift my grin.
“I have no clean clothes in here.”
I slip on a white T-shirt, and when I turn around she’s sitting up, hugging her knees. “Perhaps I should stay here.”
“Oh no you don’t,” I warn. “You can wear something of mine.”
I like her wearing my clothes.
Her face falls.
“Anastasia, you could be wearing a sack and you’d look lovely. Please don’t worry. I’d like you to meet my mother. Get dressed. I’ll just go and calm her down. I’ll expect you in that room in five minutes, otherwise I’ll come and drag you out of here myself in whatever you’re wearing. My T-shirts are in this drawer. My shirts are in the closet. Help yourself.”
Her eyes widen.
Yes. I’m serious, baby.
Cautioning her with a pointed look, I open the door and exit to find my mother.
Grace is standing in the corridor opposite the foyer door, and Taylor is talking to her. Her face lights up when she sees me. “Darling, I had no idea you might have company,” she exclaims, and she looks a little embarrassed.
“Hello, Mother.” I kiss her proffered cheek. “I’ll deal with her from here,” I say to Taylor.
“Yes, Mr. Grey.” He nods, looking exasperated, and heads back into his office.
“Thank you, Taylor,” Grace calls after him, then turns her full attention to me. “Deal with me?” she says in rebuke. “I was shopping downtown and I thought I might pop in for coffee.” She stops. “If I’d known you weren’t alone…” She shrugs in an awkward, girlish way.
She has often stopped by for coffee and there was a woman here…she just never knew.
“She’ll join us in a moment,” I admit, putting her out of her misery. “Do you want to sit down?” I wave in the direction of the sofa.
“She?”
“Yes, Mother. She.” My tone is dry as I try not to laugh. And for once she’s silent as she wanders through the living room.
“I see you’ve had breakfast,” she observes, eyeing the unwashed pans.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“No. Thank you, darling.” She sits down. “I’ll meet your…friend and then I’ll go. I don’t want to interrupt you. I had a feeling that you’d be slaving away in your study. You work too hard, darling. I thought I might drag you away.” She looks almost apologetic when I join her on the sofa.
“Don’t worry.” I’m thoroughly amused by her reaction. “Why aren’t you at church this morning?”
“Carrick had to work, so we thought we’d go to evening Mass. I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’ll come with us.”
I raise an eyebrow in cynical contempt. “Mother, you know that’s not for me.”
God and I turned our backs on each other a long time ago.
She sighs, but then Ana appears—dressed in her own clothes, standing shyly in the doorway. The tension between mother and son is averted, and I stand in relief. “Here she is.”
Grace turns and gets to her feet.
“Mother, this is Anastasia Steele. Anastasia, this is Grace Trevelyan-Grey.”
They shake hands.
“What a pleasure to meet you,” Grace says with a little too much enthusiasm for my liking.
“Dr. Trevelyan-Grey,” Ana says politely.
“Call me Grace,” she says, all at once amiable and informal.
What? Already?
Grace continues, “I’m usually Dr. Trevelyan, and Mrs. Grey is my mother-in-law.” She winks at Ana and sits down. I motion to Ana and pat the cushion beside me, and she comes and takes a seat.
“So how did you two meet?” Grace asks.
“Anastasia interviewed me for the student paper at WSU because I’m conferring the degrees there this week.”
“So you’re graduating this week?” Grace beams at Ana.
“Yes.”
Ana’s cell phone starts ringing and she excuses herself to answer it.
“And I’ll be giving the commencement address,” I say to Grace, but my attention is on Ana.
Who is it?
“Look, José, now’s not a good time,” I hear her say.
That fucking photographer. What does he want?
“I left a message for Elliot, then found out he was in Portland. I haven’t seen him since last week,” Grace is saying.
Ana hangs up.
Grace continues as Ana approaches us again, “…and Elliot called to say you were around—I haven’t seen you for two weeks, darling.”