Darker (53 page)

“Darling, how are you? Recovered? It’s all over the press.”

“I know, Mom. I’m fine. I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“I’ve asked Ana to marry me. She’s said yes.”

My mother is stunned into silence.

“Mom?”

“Christian, I’m sorry. That’s wonderful news,” she says, but she sounds a little hesitant.

“I know this is sudden.”

“Are you sure, darling? Don’t get me wrong, I adore Ana. But this is so soon and she’s the first girl—”

“Mom. She’s not the first girl. She’s the first one you’ve met.”

“Oh.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I am delighted for you. Congratulations.”

“There’s one more thing.”

“What is it, love?”

“I’m having some flowers delivered, for the boathouse.”

“Why?”

“Well, my first proposal was pretty crap.”

“Oh, I see.”

“And, Mom—don’t tell anyone else. I want it to be a surprise. I plan to make an announcement this evening.”

“As you wish, darling. Mia is in charge of deliveries for the party. Let me find her.”

I wait for what feels like an eternity.

Come on, Mia.

“Hey, big brother. Thank God you are still with us. What gives?”

“Mom tells me you are coordinating deliveries for my party. How big is this bash, anyway?”

“After your near-death experience, we’re celebrating.”

Oh, hell.

“Well, I have a delivery coming for the boathouse.”

“Yes? What?”

“From the Bellevue Florist.”

“Why? What for?”

Christ, she can be annoying. I look up and Ana is standing in her short, short dress staring at me. “Just let them in and leave them alone. Do you understand, Mia?”

Ana cocks her head to one side, listening.

“Okay. Don’t get your panties in a wad. I’ll send them to the boathouse.”

“Good.”

Ana mimes eating.

Food. Great.

“I’ll see you later,” I say to Mia and hang up. “One more call?” I ask Ana.

“Sure.”

“That dress is very short.”

“You like it?” Ana pirouettes in the doorway and her skirt flares up, providing a tantalizing glimpse of her lacy underwear.

“You look fantastic in it, Ana. I just don’t want anyone else to see you like that.”

“Oh!” She looks upset. “We’re at home, Christian. No one but the staff.”

I don’t want to upset her. I nod as graciously as I can manage and she turns and heads back to the kitchen.

Grey, get a grip.

The next call I have to make is to Ana’s father. I have no idea what he’s going to say when I ask him for his daughter’s hand in marriage. From Ana’s file, I get Ray’s mobile number. José said he was fishing. I just hope he’s somewhere with a signal.

No. He isn’t. The call goes to voice mail. “Ray Steele. Leave a message.”

Short and to the point.

“Hi, Mr. Steele, it’s Christian Grey here. I’d like to talk to you about your daughter. Please call me.” I give him my number and hang up.

What did you expect, Grey?

He’s in the wilds of the Mount Baker Park.

While I have Ana’s file on my desk, I decide to deposit some money into her bank account. She’ll have to get used to having money.

“Twenty-four thousand dollars!”

“Twenty-four thousand dollars, to the lovely lady in silver, going once, going twice. Sold!”

I chuckle, remembering her audacity at the auction. I wonder what she’ll make of this. I’m sure it will be an interesting discussion. On my computer, I transfer fifty thousand dollars to her account. It should show up within the hour.

My stomach growls. I’m hungry. But my phone starts ringing. It’s Ray. “Mr. Steele. Thank you for calling back—”

“Is Annie okay?”

“She’s fine. More than fine. She’s great.”

“Thank the Lord. What can I do for you, Christian?”

“I know you’re fishing.”

“I’m trying. Not catching much today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” This is more nerve-racking than I anticipated. My palms are sweating and Mr. Steele says nothing, cranking my anxiety up a notch.

Supposing he says no?
This is not something I’ve considered.

“Mr. Steele?”

“I’m still here, Christian, waiting for you to get to the point.”

“Yes. Of course. Um. I called because, um, I’d like your permission to marry your daughter.” The words tumble out like I’ve never negotiated or clinched a deal in my life. What’s more, they’re met with a resounding silence.

“Mr. Steele?”

“Put my daughter on the line,” he says, giving nothing away.

Shit.

“Just a minute.” I dart out of my study to where Ana is waiting, and hold out the phone to her. “I have Ray for you.”

Her eyes widen with shock. She takes the phone and covers the mouthpiece. “You told him!” she squeaks.

I nod.

She takes a deep breath, and removes her hand from the mouthpiece. “Hi, Dad.”

She listens.

She seems calm.

“What did you say?” she asks, and listens again, her eyes on me. “Yes. It is sudden. Hang on.” She gives me another unreadable look and heads to the other end of the room and out onto the balcony, where she continues her conversation.

She starts pacing up and down, but she stays close to the window.

And I’m helpless. All I can do is watch her.

Her body language gives nothing away. Suddenly, she stops and beams. Her smile could light Seattle. He’s either said yes…or no.

Hell.

Damn it, Grey. Stop with the negative.

She says something else. And she looks like she’s going to cry.

Shit. That’s not good.

She stomps back and she shoves the phone at me, looking several shades of pissed off.

Nervously, I put the phone to my ear. “Mr. Steele?” Feeling Ana’s gaze on my back, I wander into my study just in case it’s bad news.

“Christian, I think you ought to call me Ray. Sounds like my little girl is crazy about you and I’m not one to get in her way.”

Crazy about you.
My heart flips and soars.

“Well, thank you, sir.”

“You hurt her in any way and I’ll kill you.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

“Crazy kids,” he mutters. “Now you take good care of her. Annie is my light.”

“She’s mine, too…Ray.”

“And good luck with telling her mother.” He laughs. “Now let me get back to my fishing.”

“I hope you top the forty-three-pounder.”

“You know about that?”

“José told me.”

“He’s a talkative guy. Good day, Christian.”

“It is now.” I grin.

“I HAVE YOUR STEPFATHER’S
rather begrudging blessing,” I announce to Ana in the kitchen. She laughs and shakes her head.

“I think Ray is freaked out,” she says. “I’ve got to tell my mom. But I’d like to do that on a full stomach.” She waves in the direction of the counter where our food is waiting. Salmon, potatoes, salad, and an interesting dip. She’s also selected some wine. A Chablis. “Well, this looks great.” I open the wine and pour us each a small glass.

“Damn, you’re a good cook, woman.” I raise my glass to Ana in appreciation. Her lighthearted expression fades and I’m reminded of the expression on her face outside the playroom this morning. “Ana? Why did you ask me not to take your photo?”

Her consternation deepens, worrying me. “Ana, what is it?” My tone is sharper than I intended and she jumps.

“I found your photos,” she says, as if she’s committed some terrible sin.

What photos? But as I say the words, I realize exactly what she’s talking about. And I feel like I’m back in my father’s study, waiting for a pompous dressing-down for some infraction I’ve committed.

“You’ve been in the safe?”
How the hell did she do that?

“Safe? No. I didn’t know you had a safe.”

“I don’t understand.”

“In your closet. The box. I was looking for your tie, and the box was under your jeans. The ones you normally wear in the playroom…Except today.”

Fuck.

No one should see those photographs. Especially Ana. How did they get there?

Leila.

“It’s not what you think. I’d forgotten all about them. That box had been moved. Those photographs belong in my safe.”

“Who moved them?” Ana asks.

“There’s only one person who could have done that.”

“Oh. Who? And what do you mean it’s not what I think?”

Confess, Grey.

You’ve already alluded to the depths of your depravity.

This is it, baby. Fifty shades.

“This is going to sound cold, but—they’re an insurance policy.”

“Insurance policy?”

“Against exposure.”

I watch her face as she realizes what I mean. “Oh.” She closes her eyes as if she’s trying to erase what I’ve told her. “Yes. You’re right,” she says quietly. “That does sound cold.” She stands and starts to clear the dishes; it’s to avoid me.

“Ana.”

“Do they know? The girls. The subs?”

“Of course they know.”

Before she can escape to the sink, I fold her into my arms. “Those photos are supposed to be in the safe. They’re not for recreational use.”

They were once upon a time, Grey.

“Maybe they were when they were taken originally. But—they don’t mean anything.”

“Who put them in your closet?”

“It could only have been Leila.”

“She knows your safe combination?”

I guess. “It wouldn’t surprise me. It’s a very long combination, and I use it so rarely. It’s the one number I have written down and haven’t changed. I wonder what else she knows and if she’s taken anything else out of there.” I’ll check it. “Look, I’ll destroy the photos. Now, if you like.”

“They’re your photos, Christian. Do with them as you wish.” And I know she’s offended and hurt.

Christ.

Ana. This was all before you.

I take her head in my hands. “Don’t be like that. I don’t want that life. I want our life, together.” I know she struggles with not being enough for me. Maybe she thinks I want to do those things to her and photograph her.

Grey, be honest, of course you would.

But I’d never do it without her permission. I had all my submissives’ consent to having their photographs taken.

Ana’s wounded expression reveals her vulnerability. I thought we’d moved on. I want her as she is. She’s more than enough. “Ana, I thought we exorcised all those ghosts this morning. I feel that way. Don’t you?”

Her eyes soften. “Yes. Yes, I feel like that, too.”

“Good.” I kiss her and hold her, feeling her body relax against mine. “I’ll shred them. And then I have to go to work. I’m sorry, baby, but I have a mountain of business to get through this afternoon.”

“It’s cool. I have to call my mother,” she says, and makes a face. “Then I want to do some shopping and bake you a cake.”

“A cake?”

She nods.

“A chocolate cake?”

“You want a chocolate cake?”

I grin.

“I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Grey.”

I kiss her once more. I don’t deserve her. I hope, one day, I’ll prove that I do.

ANA WAS RIGHT,
the photographs are in my closet. I will have to ask Dr. Flynn to find out if Leila moved them. When I walk back into the living room, Ana’s not there. I suspect she’s calling her mother.

There’s a certain irony in sitting at my desk and shredding these photographs: relics of my old life. The first photograph is of Susannah, bound and gagged, on her knees on the wooden floor. It’s not a bad photograph, and briefly I wonder what José would make of this subject matter. The thought amuses me, but I put the first few photographs through the shredder. I turn the rest of the pile over so I can’t see the images and within twelve minutes they’re all gone.

You still have the negatives.

Grey. Stop.

I’m relieved to find that nothing else is missing from the safe. I turn to my computer and make a start on my e-mails. My first task is to rewrite Sam’s pretentious statement about my crash landing. I edit it—it lacks clarity and detail—and I send it back to him.

Then I scroll through my text messages.

ELENA

Christian. Please call me.

I need to hear it from your lips that you’re okay.

Elena’s text must have come through while I was having lunch. The rest are from late last night and yesterday.

ROS

My feet are sore.

But all good.

Hope you are good, too.

SAM PUBLICITY VP

I really need to talk to you.

SAM PUBLICITY VP

Mr. Grey. Call me. Urgently.

SAM PUBLICITY VP

Mr. Grey. Glad you are okay.

Please call me asap.

ELENA

Thank God you’re okay.

I just saw the news.

Please call me.

ELLIOT

Pick up the phone. Bro.

We’re worried. Here.

GRACE

Where are you?

Call me. I’m worried.

So is your father.

MIA

CHRISTIAN. WTF.

CALL US.