Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told (Page 41)

Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian(41)
Author: E.L. James

* * *

From: Christian Grey

Subject: The Weekend

Date: May 23 2011 08:15

To: Elena Lincoln

Good morning, Elena.

Sorry not to get back to you. I’ve been busy all weekend, and I’ll be in Portland all this week. I don’t know about next weekend, either, but if I’m free, I’ll let you know.

Latest results for the beauty business look promising.

Good going, Ma’am…

Best

C

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I press send, wondering again what Elena would make of Ana…and vice versa. There’s a ping from my laptop as a new e-mail arrives.

It’s from Ana.

* * *

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Your New Computer (on loan)

Date: May 23 2011 08:20

To: Christian Grey

I slept very well, thank you—for some strange reason—Sir.

I understood that this computer was on loan, ergo not mine.

Ana

“Sir” with a capital S; the girl has been reading, and possibly researching. And she’s still talking to me. I grin stupidly at the e-mail. This is good news. Though she is also telling me that she doesn’t want the computer.

Well, that’s frustrating.

I shake my head, amused.

* * *

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Your New Computer (on loan)

Date: May 23 2011 08:22

To: Anastasia Steele

The computer is on loan. Indefinitely, Miss Steele.

I note from your tone that you have read the documentation I gave you.

Do you have any questions so far?

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I hit send. How long will it be before she responds? I resume reading my e-mail as a distraction while I wait for her reply. There’s an executive summary from Fred, the head of my telecom division, about the development of our solar-powered tablet—one of my pet projects. It’s ambitious but few of my business ventures matter more than this one and I’m excited about it. Bringing affordable first world technology to the third world is something I’m determined to do.

There’s a ping from my computer.

Another e-mail from Miss Steele.

* * *

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Inquiring Minds

Date: May 23 2011 08:25

To: Christian Grey

I have many questions, but not suitable for e-mail, and some of us have to work for a living.

I do not want or need a computer indefinitely.

Until later, good day. Sir.

Ana

The tone of her e-mail makes me smile, but it seems she’s off to work, so this might be the last one for a while. Her reluctance to accept the damned computer is annoying. But I suppose it shows she’s not acquisitive. She’s no gold digger—rare among the women I’ve known…yet Leila was the same.

“Sir, I am not deserving of this beautiful dress.”

“You are. Take it. And I’ll not hear another word on this. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. And the style will suit you.”

Ah, Leila. She was a good submissive, but she became too attached and I was the wrong man. Fortunately, that wasn’t for long. She’s married now and happy. I turn my attention back to Ana’s e-mail and reread.

“Some of us have to work for a living.”

The sassy wench is implying I don’t do any work.

Well to hell with that!

I spy Fred’s rather dry summary report open on my desktop and decide to set the record straight with Ana.

* * *

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Your New Computer (again on loan)

Date: May 23 2011 08:26

To: Anastasia Steele

Laters, baby.

P.S.: I work for a living, too.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I find it impossible to concentrate on my work, waiting for the telltale ping to announce a new e-mail from Ana. When it comes, I look up immediately—but it’s from Elena. And I’m surprised by my disappointment.

* * *

From: Elena Lincoln

Subject: The Weekend

Date: May 23 2011 08:33

To: Christian Grey

Christian, you work too hard. What’s in Portland? Work?

Ex

ELENA LINCOLN

ESCLAVA

For The Beauty That Is You™

Do I tell her? If I do, she’ll call immediately with questions, and I’m not ready to divulge my weekend experiences yet. I type her a quick e-mail saying it’s work, and get back to my reading.

Andrea calls me at nine and we run through my schedule. As I’m in Portland, I ask her to set up a meeting with the president and the AVP of economic development at WSU, to discuss the soil science project we’ve set up and their need for additional funding in the next fiscal year. She agrees to cancel all my social engagements this week, and then connects me through to my first videoconference of the day.

AT 3:00 I’M PORING over some tablet design schematics that Barney has sent me when I’m disturbed by a knock at my door. The interruption is annoying but for a moment I hope that it’s Miss Steele. It’s Taylor.

“Hello.” I hope my voice doesn’t reveal my disappointment.

“I have your clothes, Mr. Grey,” he says politely.

“Come in. Can you hang them in the closet? I’m expecting my next conference call.”

“Certainly, sir.” He hurries into the bedroom, carrying a couple of suit bags and a duffel.

When he returns I’m still waiting for my call.

“Taylor, I don’t think I’m going to need you for the next couple of days. Why don’t you take the time to see your daughter?”

“That’s very good of you, sir, but her mother and I—” He stops, embarrassed.

“Ah. Like that, is it?” I ask.

He nods. “Yes, sir. It will take some negotiating.”

“Okay. Would Wednesday be better?”

“I’ll ask. Thank you, sir.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You do enough, sir.”

He doesn’t want to talk about this. “Okay. I think I’m going to need a printer—can you arrange it?”

“Yes, sir.” He nods. As he leaves, closing the door softly behind him, I frown. I hope his ex-wife isn’t giving him grief. I pay for his daughter’s schooling as another incentive for him to stay in my employment; he’s a good man, and I don’t want to lose him. The phone rings—it’s my conference call with Ros and Senator Blandino.

MY LAST CALL WRAPS up at 5:20. Stretching in my chair, I think about how productive I’ve been today. It’s amazing how much more I get done when I’m not in the office. Only a couple of reports to read and I’m finished for the day. As I look out the window at the early-evening sky, my mind strays to a certain potential submissive.