. My subconscious scowls at me—this is
before you. Forget them.
She’s right. Standing up I notice his ties are hanging at
the end of his clothes rail. I find my fa一vorite and exit
quickly.
I try to tell myself those photos are BA—Before Ana.
My subconscious nods with approval, but it’s with a
hea一vier heart that I head into the main room for breakfast.
Mrs. Jones smiles at me warmly and then frowns.
“Everything all right, Ana?” she asks kindly.
“Yes,” I murmur, distracted. “Do you ha一ve a key to
the . . . um, playroom?”
She pauses momentarily, surprised.
“Yes, of course.” She unclips a small bunch of keys
from her belt. “What would you like for breakfast, dear?”
she asks as she hands me the keys.
“Just granola. I won’t be long.”
I feel more ambivalent about this gift now but only
since the discovery of those photographs. Nothing’s
changed, my subconscious barks at me again, glaring at
me over her half-moon winged glasses. That picture was
hot, my inner goddess chips in, and mentally I scowl at
her. Yes it was—too hot for me.
What else does he ha一ve hidden away? Quickly I ferret
through the museum chest, take what I need, and lock the
playroom door behind me. Wouldn’t do for José to
discover this!
I hand the keys back to Mrs. Jones and sit down to
devour my breakfast, feeling odd that Christian is absent.
The photograph image dances unwelcome around my
mind. I wonder who it was? Leila perhaps?
On my drive in to work, I debate whether or not to tell
Christian I found his photographs. No, screams my
subconscious, her Edvard Munch face on. I decide she’s
probably right.
As I sit down at my desk, my Blackberry buzzes.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Surfaces
Date: June 17, 2011 08:59
To: Anastasia Steele
I calculate that there are at least 30 surfaces to go. I am looking
forward to each and every one of them. Then there’s the floors,
the walls—and let’s not forget the balcony.
After that there’s my office . . .
Miss you. x
Christian Grey
Priapic CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdi
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