oing to get to work?
Christian is sipping coffee at the breakfast bar. Mrs.
Jones is in the kitchen making pancakes and bacon.
“You look lovely,” Christian murmurs. Wrapping an
arm around me, he kisses me under my ear. Out of the
corner of my eye, I catch Mrs. Jones’s smile. I flush.
“Good morning, Miss Steele,” she says as she places
pancakes and bacon in front of me.
“Oh, thank you. Good morning,” I mumble. Jeez—I
could get used to this.
“Mr. Grey says you’d like to take lunch with you to
work. What would you like to eat?”
I glance at Christian, who is trying very hard not to
smirk. I narrow my eyes at him.
“A sandwich . . . salad. I really don’t mind.” I beam at
Mrs. Jones.
“I’ll rustle up a packed lunch for you, ma’am.”
“Please, Mrs. Jones, call me Ana.”
“Ana.” She smiles and turns to make me tea.
Wow . . . this is so cool.
I turn and cock my head at Christian, challenging him
—go on, accuse me of flirting with Mrs. Jones.
“I ha一ve to go, baby. Taylor will come back and drop
you at work with Sawyer.”
“Only to the door.”
“Yes. Only to the door.” Christian rolls his eyes. “Be
careful, though.”
I glance around and spy Taylor standing in the
entranceway. Christian stands and kisses me, grasping my
chin.
“Laters, baby.”
“Ha一ve a good day at the office, dear,” I call after him.
He turns and flashes me his beautiful smile then he’s gone.
Mrs. Jones hands me a cup of tea, and suddenly I feel
awkward with just the two of us here.
“How long ha一ve you worked for Christian?” I ask,
thinking I ought to make some kind of conversation.
“Four years or so,” she says pleasantly, as she sets
about making my packed lunch.
“You know, I can do that,” I mutter, embarrassed that
she should be doing this for me.
“You eat your breakfast, Ana. This is what I do. I
enjoy it. It’s nice to look after someone other than Mr.
Taylor and Mr. Grey.” She smiles very sweetly at me.
My cheeks pink with pleasure, and I want to bombard
this woman with questions. She must know so much about
Fifty, and
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