r up at him, still reeling at his display of contempt.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Ray’s being taken to radiology for a CT scan to check the swelling
in his brain. I’d like to wait for the results.”
“Okay. We’ll wait.” He sits down and holds out his hands. As we’re alone, I go
willingly and curl up in his lap.
“This is not how I envisaged spending today,” Christian murmurs into my hair.
“Me neither, but I’m feeling more positive now. Your mom was very
reassuring. It was kind of her to come last night.”
Christian strokes my back soothingly, resting his chin on my head.
“My mom is an amazing woman.”
“She is. You’re very lucky to ha一ve her.”
Christian nods.
“I should call my mom. Tell her about Ray,” I murmur and Christian stiffens.
“I’m surprised she hasn’t called me.” I add in a moment of realization. In fact, I
feel hurt. It’s my birthday after all, and she was there when I was born. Why
hasn’t she called?
“Maybe she did,” Christian says. I fish my BlackBerry out of my pocket. It
shows no missed calls, but quite a few texts: happy birthdays from Kate,
José, Mia, and Ethan. Nothing from my mother. I shake my 351 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
head despondently.
“Call her now,” he says softly. I do, but there’s no reply, just the answering
machine. I don’t lea一ve a message. How can my own mother forget my
birthday?
“She’s not there. I’ll call later when I know the results of the brain scan.”
Christian tightens his arms around me, nuzzling my hair once more, and
wisely makes no comment on my mother’s lack of maternal concern. I feel
rather than hear the buzz of his BlackBerry. He doesn’t let me stand up but
fishes it awkwardly out of his pocket.
“Andrea,” he snaps, businesslike again. I make another move to stand and
he stops me, frowning and holding me tightly around my waist. I nestle back
against his chest and listen to the one-sided conversation.
“Good . . . ETA is what time? . . . And the other, um . . . packages?”
Christian glances at his watch. “Does the Heathman ha
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