ily done. He’s very controlling sometimes.” Most of
the time.
“I’ve noticed,” Kate says wryly.
We pull up outside Kate’s apartment. She hugs me hard.
“Don’t be a stranger,” she whispers and kisses my cheek. Then she’s out of
the car. I wa一ve, feeling strangely homesick. I ha一ve missed girl talk. It’s fun and
relaxing, and reminds me that I’m still young. I must make more of an effort to
see Kate, but the truth is, I love being in my bubble with Christian. Last night
we attended a charity dinner together. There were so many men in suits and
well-groomed elegant women talking about real estate prices and the failing
economy and the plunging stock markets. I mean, it was dull, really dull. So
it’s refreshing to let my hair down with someone my own age. My stomach
rumbles. Jeez, I still ha一ven’t eaten. Shit—Christian! I scramble through my
purse and fish out my BlackBerry. Holy crap—
five missed calls! One text . . .
*WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?*
And one e-mail.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Angry. You’ve not seen angry
Date: August 26, 2011 00:42 EST
192 | P a g e
E L JAMES
To: Anastasia Grey
Anastasia
Sawyer tells me that you are drinking cocktails in a bar when you said you
wouldn’t.
Do you ha一ve any idea how mad I am at the moment?
I’l see you tomorrow.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
My heart sinks. Oh shit! I really am in trouble. My subconscious glares at me,
then shrugs, wearing her you-made-your-bed-you-lie-in-it face. What did I
expect? I contemplate calling him, but it’s late and he’s probably asleep . . .
or pacing. I decide a quick text may be enough.
*I’M STILL IN ONE PIECE. I HAD A NICE TIME. MISSING
YOU—PLEASE DON’T BE MAD*
I gaze at my BlackBerry, willing him to respond, but it’s ominously silent. I
sigh.
Prescott pulls up outside Escala and Sawyer gets out to hold the door open
for me. As we stand waiting for the elevator, I take the opportunity to quiz
him.
“What time did Christian call you?”
Sawyer flushes. “About nine thirty, ma’am.”
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