here to see me?”
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E L JAMES
“Yes.”
“I see.” And Christian is playing into her hands. Reluctantly, I ha一ve to
acknowledge that she knows him well.
“He seemed very happy. With you,” she says.
What? “How would you know?”
“From when I was in the apartment.” She adds cautiously. Oh hell . . . how
could I forget that?
“Were you there often?”
“No. But he was very different with you.”
Do I want to hear this? A shudder runs through me. My scalp prickles as I
recall my fear when she was the unseen shadow in our apartment.
“You know it’s against the law. Trespassing.”
She nods, gazing down at the table. She runs a fingernail along the edge. “It
was only a few times, and I was lucky not to get caught. Again, I need to
thank Mr. Grey for that. He could ha一ve had me thrown in jail.”
“I don’t think he’d do that,” I murmur.
Suddenly there is a flurry of activity outside the meeting room, and
instinctively I know that Christian is in the building. A moment later he bursts
through the door, and before he closes it, I catch Taylor’s eye as he stands
patiently outside. Taylor’s mouth is set in a grim line, and he doesn’t return
my tight smile. Oh hell, even he’s mad at me. Christian’s burning gray gaze
pins first me then Leila to our chairs. His demeanor is quietly determined, but
I know better, and I suspect Leila does, too. The menacing cool glint in his
eyes reveals the truth—
he’s emanating rage, though he hides it well. In his gray suit, with his dark tie
loosened and the top button of his white shirt undone, he looks at once
businesslike and casual . . . and hot. His hair is in disarray—no doub一t
because he’s been running his hands through it in exasperation. Leila looks
nervously down at the edge of the table, running her index finger along the
edge again, as Christian looks from me to her and then to Prescott.
“You,” he says to Prescott in a soft tone. “You’re fired. Get out now.”
I blanch. Oh no—this isn’t fair.
“Christian—” I make to stand up.
315 | P a g e
Fifty
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