red, his hair
damp, wearing a crisp white shirt and that silver-gray tie. My fa一vorite tie. I
ha一ve fond memories of that tie.
“How are you, Mrs. Grey?” he asks, his eyes warm.
“I think you know, Mr. Grey.” I gaze up at him through my lashes. He smirks.
“Eat,” he orders. “You didn’t eat yesterday.”
Oh, bossy Fifty!
“That’s because you were being an arse.”
Mrs. Jones drops something that clatters into the sink, making me jump.
Christian seems oblivious to the noise. Ignoring her, he stares at me
impassively.
“Arse or not—eat.” His tone is serious. No arguing with him.
“Okay! Picking up spoon, eating granola,” I mutter like a petulant teenager. I
reach for the Greek yoghurt and spoon some onto my cereal, followed by a
handful of blueberries. I glance at Mrs. Jones and she catches my eye. I
smile, and she responds with a warm smile of her own. She has provided me
with my breakfast of choice introduced to me on our honeymoon.
“I may ha一ve to go to New York later in the week.” Christian’s announcement
interrupts my reverie.
“Oh.”
“It’ll mean an overnight. I want you to come with me.”
Oh no . . .
“Christian, I won’t get the time off.”
He gives me his oh-really-but-I’m-the-boss-stare.
I sigh. “I know you own the company, but I’ve been away for three weeks.
Please. How can you expect me to run the business if I’m never there? I’ll be
fine here. I’m assuming you’ll take Taylor with you, but Sawyer and Ryan will
be here—” I stop, because Christian is grinning at me. “What?” I snap.
“Nothing. Just you,” he says.
I frown. Is he laughing at me? Then a nasty thought pops into my mind. “How
are you getting to New York?”
175 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
“The company jet, why?”
“I just wanted to check if you were taking Charlie Tango.” My voice is quiet,
and a shiver runs down my spine. I remember the last time he flew his
helicopter. A wa一ve of nausea hits me as I recall the anxious hours I spent
waiting for news. That was possibly the lowest point in my life. I notice Mrs.
Jones h
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