“Thanks, Vanessa.” I hang up and wish once more that Seb had given me a card. At least he has mine, if he hasn’t thrown it away. I’d like to repay him somehow.
I turn to my computer to check my e-mails. There’s one from Ana.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Missing you
Date: June 23 2011 11:03
To: Christian Grey
That is all.
Axx
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Missing you more
Date: June 23 2011 11:33
To: Anastasia Steele
I wish you’d change your mind and move the rest of your things to Escala this weekend.
You’re with me every night as it is and what’s the point in paying rent for a place that you never stay in?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I’ve been subtly trying to persuade Ana to move in full-time. But as of yet, she refuses. Why is she hesitating over this? Since she arrived in Seattle, she’s hardly lived in her own apartment. She’s agreed to marry me…but not to this? I don’t get it. It’s irritating.
Move in with me, Ana.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Stay With Me
Date: June 23 2011 11:39
To: Christian Grey
Nice try, Grey.
I have some wonderful memories of you in my apartment.
I told you. I want more.
I always want more.
Stay with me there.
Axx
Oh, Ana, Ana, Ana. You always want more. And I would, if we were safe.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your Safety
Date: June 23 2011 11:42
To: Anastasia Steele
Means more to me right now than making memories.
I can keep you safe in my Ivory Tower.
Please reconsider.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
PS: I hope you like the wedding planner.
My mother is meeting us tonight at Escala with The Wedding Planner. This is not how I would like to spend the evening. Why couldn’t we just go to Vegas and get married? We’d be husband and wife by now. I might feel happier about it if Ana would stop procrastinating about moving in.
Why is she reluctant?
Does she need her apartment as a bolt hole, just in case she changes her mind?
Fuck.
Doubt is an ugly word, for an ugly feeling.
Why won’t she fully commit?
Enough, Grey.
She’s agreed to marry you!
To distract myself from these unsettling thoughts, I pick up the phone to call Welch for an update on the investigation into the crash, to ask if he’s located Jack Hyde, and to inquire about panic rooms.
Taylor will not let me walk to or from the mayor’s office, so after a long lunch with the mayor, I reluctantly climb into the back of the Audi for the short drive back to Grey House. I’m not sure I appreciate him flapping around me like a mother hen. It’s suffocating. I let out a long, slow breath, remembering Ana accusing me of doing precisely that.
Hell. I hope she’s tolerating Sawyer’s watchful eye.
On the plus side, Taylor has advised me to stop playing golf. Apparently there are too many trees surrounding the golf course where an assassin could find cover. I’m not a fan of the sport, so it’s no hardship to give it up, though I believe Taylor is being a tad dramatic.
Glancing up through the panoramic sunroof, I catch a glimpse of brilliant summer blue above the steel and glass of downtown Seattle. For a moment I wish I was up there.
The freedom of walking on air.
I need to get back up there with Ana. We’d be safe in a sailplane, soaring the skies. And no longer under the ever-present vigilance of our security. The idea is extremely appealing. Only thing is, if I want to take Ana, I need a new sailplane, a model made for two. I rub my hands with glee, as this presents my kind of shopping opportunity. I fish my phone out of my pocket and start scouring the Alexander Schleicher website for their latest aircraft designs.
“Thank you so much, Christian, Ana. It has been wonderful to meet you, and you’re going to have the most magical wedding.”
“Thank you, Alondra,” Grace coos. “I love your ideas.” My mother claps her hands in uncharacteristic enthusiasm while I make a supreme effort to keep my smile fixed and not roll my eyes. I am on my best behavior. Ms. Gutierrez’s ideas are great. I just want them done, and quickly, so we can get married.
“I’ll see you out,” Ana says, and leads her to the foyer.
“What do you think?” Grace asks.
“She’s fine.”
“Oh, Christian.” Mom sounds irritated. “She’s much more than fine.”
“Okay. She’s God’s gift to wedding planning.” My sarcasm bleeds into my words. Grace’s lips thin and I think she’s about to scold me, but Ana reenters the room.
“What did you think?” Ana asks, her gaze searching my face for answers.
“I thought she was fine. Did you like her?” That’s the important question.
“Of course. I thought she was full of imaginative ideas. Dr. Gre—”
“Ana, please. Call me Grace.”
“Grace,” Ana says with an embarrassed smile. “So, we need to do a save-the-date note to all our guests?” Ana blinks rapidly, suddenly looking shell-shocked. “We don’t even have a guest list,” she whispers.
“That’s easily done,” I reassure her. Apart from the family, I think I have two guests: Ros and Dr. Flynn and their respective partners. Maybe Bastille…and Mac.
“There is one more thing,” Grace says.
“What?”
“I know you don’t want a Catholic ceremony, but would you consider asking Reverend Michael Walsh to officiate?”
Reverend Walsh. The name rings a bell.
“He’s the chaplain at my hospital. He’s such a dear friend, and I know you never saw eye to eye with any of the priests we know.”
“Oh, yes. I remember him. He was always kind to me. I don’t want a religious ceremony, but I’m fine with him conducting it, if that’s okay with Ana.”
Ana nods, a little pale; she looks overwhelmed.