Fifty Shades of Grey (Fifty Shades #1)(78)
Author: E.L. James

"Jeez, Ana, what have you got in here?"

That will be the Mac, and they both put their arms around me as we head for the parking lot.

I always forget how unbearably hot it is in Savannah. Leaving the cool air-conditioned confines of the arrival terminal, we step into the Georgia heat like we’re wearing it. Whoa!

It saps everything. I have to struggle out of Mom and Bob’s embrace so I can remove my hoodie. I am so glad I packed shorts. I miss the dry heat of Vegas sometimes, where I lived with Mom and Bob when I was seventeen, but this wet heat, even at 8:30 in the morning, takes some getting used to. By the time I’m in the back of Bob’s wonderfully air-conditioned Tahoe SUV, I feel limp, and my hair has started a frizzy protest at the heat.

In the back of the SUV I quickly text Ray, Kate, and Christian:

*Arrived Safely in Savannah. A :)*

My thoughts stray briefly to Jose as I press send, and through the fog of my fatigue, I remember that it’s his show next week. Should I invite Christian knowing how he feels about JoseWill Christian still want to see me after that emailI shudder at the thought, and then put it out of my mind. I’ll deal with that later. Right now I am going to enjoy my mom’s company.

"Honey, you must be tired. Would you like to sleep when we get home?"

"No, Mom. I’d like to go to the beach."

I am in my blue halter neck tankini, sipping a Diet Coke, on a sun bed facing the Atlantic Ocean, and to think that only yesterday I was staring out at the Sound toward the Pacific.

My mother lounges beside me in a ridiculously large floppy sun hat and Jackie O shades, sipping a Coke of her own. We are on Tybee Island Beach, just three blocks from home.

She holds my hand. My fatigue has waned, and as I soak up the sun, I feel comfortable, safe, and warm. For the first time in forever, I start to relax.

"So Ana… tell me about this man who has you in such a spin."

Spin! How can she tellWhat to sayI can’t talk about Christian in any great detail because of the NDA, but even then, would I choose to talk to my mother about itI blanch at the thought.

"Well?" she prompts and squeezes my hand.

"His name’s Christian. He’s beyond handsome. He’s wealthy… too wealthy. He’s very complicated and mercurial."

Yes – I feel inordinately pleased with my concise, accurate summary. I turn on my side to face her, just as she makes the same move. She gazes at me with her crystal-clear blue eyes.

"Complicated and mercurial are the two pieces of information I want to concentrate on, Ana."

Oh no…

"Oh, Mom, his mood-swings make me dizzy. He’s had a grim upbringing, so he’s very closed, difficult to gauge."

"Do you like him?"

"I more than like him."

"Really?" She gapes at me.

"Yes, Mom."

"Men aren’t really complicated, Ana, honey. They are very simple, literal creatures.

They usually mean what they say. And we spend hours trying to analyze what they’ve said

– when really it’s obvious. If I were you, I’d take him literally. That might help."

I gape at her. This sounds like good advice. Take Christian literally. Immediately some of the things he’s said spring into my mind.

I don’t want to lose you…

You’ve bewitched me…

You’ve completely beguiled me…

I’ll miss you too… more than you know…

I gaze at my mom. She is on her fourth marriage. Maybe she does know something about men after all.

"Most men are moody darling, some more than others. Take your father for instance…," Her eyes soften and sadden whenever she thinks of my dad. My real dad, this mythical man I never knew, snatched so cruelly from us in a combat training accident when he was a marine. Part of me thinks my mom has been looking for someone like my dad all this time… maybe she’s finally found what she’s looking for in Bob. Pity she couldn’t find it with Ray.

"I used to think your father was moody. But now when I look back, I just think he was too caught up in his job and trying to make a life for us." She sighs. "He was so young, we both were. Maybe that was the issue."

Hmm… Christian is not exactly old. I smile fondly at her. She can become very soulful thinking about my father, but I’m sure he had nothing on Christian’s moods.

"Bob wants to take us out tonight for dinner. To his golf club."

"Oh no! Bob’s started playing golf?" I scoff in disbelief.

"Tell me about it," groans my mother, rolling her eyes.

After a light lunch back at the house, I start to unpack. I am going to treat myself to a si-esta. My mother has disappeared to mold some candles or whatever she does with them, and Bob is at work, so I have time to catch up on some sleep. I open the Mac and fire it up.

It’s two in the afternoon in Georgia, eleven in the morning in Seattle. I wonder if I have a reply from Christian. Nervously, I log into the email program.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Finally!

Date: May 31 2011 07:30

To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia

I am annoyed that as soon as you put some distance between us, you communicate openly and honestly with me. Why can’t you do that when we’re together?

Yes, I’m rich. Get used to it. Why shouldn’t I spend money on youWe’ve told your father I’m your boyfriend, for heaven’s sake. Isn’t that what boyfriends doAs your Dom, I would expect you to accept whatever I spend on you with no argument. Incidentally, tell your mother too.

I don’t know how to answer your comment about feeling like a whore. I know that’s not what you’ve written, but it’s what you imply. I don’t know what I can say or do to eradicate these feelings. I’d like you to have the best of everything. I work exceptionally hard, so I can spend my money as I see fit. I could buy you your heart’s desire, Anastasia, and I want to. Call it redistribution of wealth if you will. Or simply know that I would not, could not ever think of you in the way you described, and I’m angry that’s how you perceive yourself. For such a bright, witty, beautiful young woman you have some real self-esteem issues, and I have a half a mind to make an appointment for you with Dr. Flynn.

I apologize for frightening you. I find the thought of instilling fear in you abhorrent. Do you really think I’d let you travel in the holdI offered you my private jet for heaven’s sake. Yes it was a joke, a poor one obviously. However, the fact is – the thought of you bound and gagged turns me on (this is not a joke – it’s true). I can lose the crate – crates do nothing for me. I know you have issues with gagging, we’ve talked about that and if/

when I do gag you, we’ll discuss it. What I think you fail to realize is that in Dom/sub relationships it is the sub that has all the power. That’s you. I’ll repeat this – you are the one with all the power. Not I. In the boathouse you said no. I can’t touch you if you say no – that’s why we have an agreement – what you will and won’t do. If we try things and you don’t like them, we can revise the agreement. It’s up to you – not me. And if you don’t want to be bound and gagged in a crate, then it won’t happen.

I want to share my lifestyle with you. I have never wanted anything so much. Frankly I’m in awe of you, that one so innocent would be willing to try. That says more to me than you could ever know. You fail to see I am caught in your spell, too, even though I have told you this countless times. I don’t want to lose you. I am nervous that you’ve flown three thousand miles to get away from me for a few days, because you can’t think clearly around me. It’s the same for me Anastasia. My reason vanishes when we’re together –

that’s the depth of my feeling for you.

I understand your trepidation. I did try to stay away from you; I knew you were inexperienced, though I would never have pursued you if I had known exactly how innocent you were – and yet you still manage to disarm me completely in a way that nobody has before. Your email for example: I have read and re-read it countless times trying to understand your point of view. Three months is an arbitrary amount of time. We could make it six months, a yearHow long do you want it to beWhat would make you comfortable?

Tell me.

I understand that this is a huge leap of faith for you. I have to earn your trust, but by the same token, you have to communicate with me when I am failing to do this. You seem so strong and self-contained, and then I read what you’ve written here, and I see another side to you. We have to guide each other Anastasia, and I can only take my cues from you. You have to be honest with me, and we have to both find a way to make this arrangement work.

You worry about not being submissive. Well maybe that’s true. Having said that, the only