Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian(58)
Author: E.L. James

The vice chancellor rises to commence handing out the degrees. And so begins the agonizing wait until we reach the S’s and I can see her again.

After an eternity I hear her name called: “Anastasia Steele.” A ripple of applause, and she’s walking toward me looking pensive and worried.

Shit.

What is she thinking?

Hold it together, Grey.

“Congratulations, Miss Steele,” I say as I give Ana her degree. We shake hands, but I don’t let hers go. “Do you have a problem with your laptop?”

She looks perplexed. “No.”

“Then you are ignoring my e-mails?” I release her.

“I only saw the mergers and acquisitions one.”

What the hell does that mean?

Her frown deepens, but I have to let her go—there’s a line forming behind her.

“Later.” I let her know that we’re not finished with this conversation as she moves on.

I’m in purgatory by the time we’ve reached the end of the line. I’ve been ogled, and had eyelashes batted at me, silly giggling girls squeezing my hand, and five notes with phone numbers pressed into my palm. I’m relieved as I exit the stage along with the faculty, to the strains of some dreary processional music and applause.

In the corridor I grab Kavanagh’s arm. “I need to speak to Ana. Can you find her? Now.”

Kavanagh is taken aback, but before she can say anything I add, in as polite a tone as I can manage, “Please.”

Her lips thin with disapproval, but she waits with me as the academics file past and then she returns to the auditorium. The chancellor stops to congratulate me on my speech.

“It was an honor to be asked,” I respond, shaking his hand once again. Out of the corner of my eye I spy Kate in the corridor—with Ana at her side. Excusing myself, I stride toward Ana.

“Thank you,” I say to Kate, who gives Ana a worried glance. Ignoring her, I take Ana’s elbow and lead her through the first door I find. It’s a men’s locker room, and from the fresh smell I can tell it’s empty. Locking the door, I turn to face Miss Steele. “Why haven’t you e-mailed me? Or texted me back?” I demand.

She blinks a couple of times, consternation writ large on her face. “I haven’t looked at my computer today, or my phone.” She seems genuinely bewildered by my outburst. “That was a great speech,” she adds.

“Thank you,” I mutter, derailed. How can she not have checked her phone or e-mail?

“Explains your food issues to me,” she says, her tone gentle—and if I’m not mistaken, pitying, too.

“Anastasia, I don’t want to go there at the moment.”

I don’t need your pity.

I close my eyes. All this time I thought she didn’t want to talk to me. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“Worried, why?”

“Because you went home in that deathtrap you call a car.”

And I thought I’d blown the deal between us.

Ana bristles. “What? It’s not a deathtrap. It’s fine. José regularly services it for me.”

“José, the photographer?” This just gets better and fucking better.

“Yes, the Beetle used to belong to his mother.”

“Yes, and probably her mother and her mother before her. It’s not safe.” I’m almost shouting.

“I’ve been driving it for over three years. I’m sorry you were worried. Why didn’t you call?”

I called her cell phone. Does she not use her damned cell phone? Is she talking about the house phone? Running my hand through my hair in exasperation, I take a deep breath. This is not addressing the fucking elephant in the room.

“Anastasia, I need an answer from you. This waiting around is driving me crazy.”

Her face falls.

Shit.

“Christian, I…look, I’ve left my stepdad on his own.”

“Tomorrow. I want an answer by tomorrow.”

“Okay. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you then,” she says with an anxious look.

Well, it’s still not a “no.” And once more, I’m surprised by my relief.

What the hell is it about this woman? She stares up at me with sincere blue eyes, her face etched in concern, and I resist the urge to touch her. “Are you staying for drinks?” I ask.

“I don’t know what Ray wants to do.” She looks uncertain.

“Your stepfather? I’d like to meet him.”

Her uncertainty magnifies. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she says darkly, as I unlock the door.

What? Why? Is this because she now knows I was dirt-poor as a kid? Or because she knows how I like to fuck? That I’m a freak?

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“No!” she exclaims, and she rolls her eyes in frustration. “Introduce you to my dad as what?” She raises her hands in exasperation. “ ‘This is the man who deflowered me and wants us to start a BDSM relationship’? You’re not wearing running shoes.”

Running shoes?

Her dad is going to come after me? And just like that she has injected a little humor between us. My mouth twitches in response and she returns my smile, her face lighting up like a summer dawn.

“Just so you know, I can run quite fast,” I respond playfully. “Just tell him I’m your friend, Anastasia.” I open the door and follow her out but stop when I reach the chancellor and his colleagues. As one they turn and stare at Miss Steele, but she’s disappearing into the auditorium. They turn back to me.

Miss Steele and I are none of your business, people.

I give the chancellor a brief, polite nod and he asks if I’ll come and meet more of his colleagues and enjoy some canapés.

“Sure,” I reply.

It takes me thirty minutes to escape from the faculty gathering, and as I make my way out of the crowded reception Kavanagh falls into step beside me. We head to the lawn where the graduates and their families are enjoying a post-graduation drink in a large tented pavilion.

“So have you asked Ana to dinner on Sunday?” she asks.

Sunday? Has Ana mentioned that we’re seeing each other on Sunday?

“At your parents’ house,” Kavanagh explains.

My parents?

I spot Ana.

What the fuck?

A tall blond guy who looks as if he’s walked off a beach in California has his hands all over her.

Who the hell is that? Is this why she didn’t want me to come for a drink?

Ana looks up, catches my expression, and pales as her roommate stands beside that guy. “Hello, Ray,” Kavanagh says, and she kisses a middle-aged man in an ill-fitting suit standing beside Ana.