iclosemyeyes.

reluctantly,iopenmyhea一vyeyelidsandbrightlight

fillstheroom.igroan.ifeelcloudy,disconnectedfrommy

leadenlimbs,andchristianiswrappedaroundmelikeivy.

i’mtoowarmasperusual.surelyit’sjustfiveinthe

morning.thealarmhasnotgoneoffyet.istretchoutto

freemyselffromhisheat,turninginhisarms,andhe

mumblessomethingunintelligibleinhissleep.iglanceat

theclock.eightforty-five.

shit,i’mgoingtobelate.fuck.iscrambleoutofbed

anddashtothebathroom.iamshoweredandoutwithin

fourminutes.

christiansitsupinbedwatchingmewithill-concealed

amusementcoupledwithwarinessasicontinuetodry

amusementcoupledwithwarinessasicontinuetodry

myselfwhilegatheringmyclothes.perhapshe’swaitingfor

metoreacttoyesterday’srevelations.rightnow,ijust

don’tha一vetime.

icheckmyclothes—blackslacks,blackshirt—alla

bitmrs.r,butidon’tha一veasecondtochangemymind.

ihastilydonblackbraandpanties,consciousthathe’s

watchingmyeverymove.it’s...unnerving.thepanties

andbrawilldo.

“youlookgood,”christianpurrsfromthebed.“you

cancallinsick,youknow.”hegivesmehisdevastating,

lopsided,onehundredandfiftypercentpanty-busting

smile.oh,he’ssotempting.myinnergoddesspouts

provocativelyatme.

“no,christian,ican’t.iamnotamegalomaniacceo

withabeautifulsmilewhocancomeandgoashe

pleases.”

“iliketocomeasiplease.”hesmirksandcrankshis

glorioussmileupanothernotchsoit’sinfullhdimax.

“christian!”iscold.ithrowmytowelathimandhe

laughs.

“beautifulsmile,huh?”

“yes.youknowtheeffectyouha一veonme.”iputon

mywatch.

“doi?”heblinksinnocently.

“yes,youdo.thesameeffectyouha一veonallwomen.

getsreallytiresomewatchingthemallswoon.”

“doesit?”hecockshiseyebrowatme,moreamused.

“don’tplaytheinnocent,mr.grey,itreallydoesn’t

suityou,”imutterdistractedlyasiscoopmyhairintoa

suityou,”imutterdistractedlyasiscoopmyhairintoa

ponytailandpullonmyblackhigh-heeledshoes.there,

thatwilldo.

whenibendtokisshimgood-bye,hegrabsmeand

pullsmedownontothebed,leaningovermeandsmiling

fromeartoear.ohmy.he’ssobeautiful—eyesbright

withmischief,floppyjust-fucked-againhair,thatdazzling

smile.nowhe’splayful.

i’mtired,stillreelingfromallthedisclosuresof

yesterday,whilehe’sbrightasabuttonandsexyasfuck.

oh,exasperatingfifty.

“whatcanidototemptyoutostay?”hesayssoftly,

andmyheartskipsabeatandbeginstopound.heis

temptationpersonified.

“youcan’t,”igrumble,strugglingtositbackup.“let

mego.”

hepoutsandigiveup.grinning,itracemyfingers

overhissculpturedlips—myfiftyshades.ilovehimsoin

allhismonumentalfuckedupness.iha一ven’tevenbegunto

processyesterday’seventsandhowifeelaboutthem.

ileanuptokisshim,thankfulthatiha一vebrushedmy

teeth.hekissesmelongandhardandthenswiftlysetsme

onmyfeet,lea一vingmedazed,breathless,andslightly

wobbly.

“taylorwilltakeyou.quickerthanfindingsomewhere

topark.he’swaitingoutsidethebuilding,”christiansays

kindly,andheseemsrelieved.isheworriedaboutmy

reactionthismorning?surelylastnight—er,thismorning—

provedthatiamnotgoingtorun.

“okay.thankyou,”imutter,disappointedthatiam

“okay.thankyou,”imutter,disappointedthatiam

uprightonmyfeet,confusedbyhishesitancy,andvaguely

irritatedthatonceagainiwon’tbedrivingmysaab.but

he’sright,ofcourse—itwillbequickerwithtaylor.

“enjoyyourlazymorning,mr.grey.iwishicould

stay,butthemanwhoownsthecompanyiworkfor

wouldnotapproveofhisstaffditchingjustforhotsex.”i

grabmypurse.

“personally,misssteele,iha一venodoub一tthathe

wouldapprove.infacthemightinsistonit.”

“whyareyoustayinginbed?it’snotlikeyou.”

hefoldshishandsbehindhisheadandgrinsatme.

“becauseican,misssteele.”

ishakemyheadathim.“laters,baby.”iblowhima

kiss,andiamoutofthedoor.

tayloriswaitingforme,andheseemstounderstandthati

amlatebecausehedriveslikeabatoutofhelltogetmeto

workbyninefifteen.iamgratefulwhenhepullsupatthe

curb—gratefultobealive–hisdrivingwasscary.and

gratefulthatiamnothideouslylate—onlyfifteenminutes.

“thankyou,taylor,”imutter,ashen-faced.i

rememberchristiantellingmehedrovetanks;maybehe

drivesfornasc一a一r,too.

“ana.”henodsafarewell,andidashintomyoffice,

realizingasiopenthedoortoreceptionthattaylorseems

toha一veovercomethemisssteeleformality.itmakesme

smile.

clairegrinsatmeasirushthroughreceptionand

makemywaytomydesk.

“ana!”jackcallsme.“getinhere.”

ohshit.

“whattimedoyoucallthis?”hesnaps.

“i’msorry.ioverslept.”iflushcrimson.

“don’tletithappenagain.fixmesomecoffee,and

thenineedyoutodosomeletters.jumptoit,”heshouts,

makingmeflinch.

why’shesomad?what’shisproblem?whatha一vei

done?ihurrytothekitchentofixhiscoffee.maybei

shouldha一veditched.icouldbe...well,doingsomething

hotwithchristian,orha一vingbreakfastwithhim,orjust

talking—thatwouldbenovel.

jackbarelyacknowledgesmypresencewheni

venturebackintohisofficetodeliverhiscoffee.hethrusts

asheetofpaperatme—it’shandwritteninabarelylegible

scrawl.

“typethisup,ha一vemesign,thencopyandmailittoall

ourauthors.”

“yes,jack.”

hedoesn’tlookupasilea一ve.boy,ishemad.

itiswithsomereliefthatifinallysitdownatmydesk.i

takeasipofteaasiwaitformycomputertobootup.i

checkmye-mails.

from:christiangrey

subject:missingyou

date:june15,201109:05

to:anastasiasteele

pleaseuseyourblackberry.

x

christiangrey

ceo,greyenterprisesholdingsinc.

from:anastasiasteele

subject:allrightforsome

date:june15,201109:27

to:christiangrey

mybossismad.

iblameyouforkeepingmeuplatewithyour...shenanigans.

youshouldbeashamedofyourself.

anastasiasteele

assistanttojackhyde,commissioningeditor,sip

from:christiangrey

subject:shenaniwhatagans?

date:june15,201109:32

to:anastasiasteele

to:anastasiasteele

youdon’tha一vetowork,anastasia.

youha一venoideahowappallediamatmyshenanigans.

butilikekeepingyouuplate;)

pleaseuseyourblackberry.

oh,andmarryme,please.

christiangrey

ceo,greyenterprisesholdingsinc.

from:anastasiasteele

subject:livingtomake

date:june15,201109:35

to:christiangrey

iknowyournaturalinclinationistowardnagging,butjuststop.

ineedtotalktoyourshrink.

onlythenwilligiveyoumyanswer.

iamnotopposedtolivinginsin.

anastasiasteele

assistanttojackhyde,commissioningeditor,sip

from:christiangrey

subject:blackberry

subject:blackberry

date:june15,201109:40

to:anastasiasteele

anastasia,ifyouaregoingtostartdiscussingdr.flynnthenuse

yourblackberry.

thisisnotarequest.

christiangrey,

nowpissedceo,greyenterprisesholdingsinc.

ohshit.nowhe’smadatme,too.well,hecanstewfor

allicare.itakemyblackberryoutofmypurseandeyeit

withskepticism.asido,itstartsringing.can’thelea一ve

mealone?

“yes,”isnap.

“ana,hi—”

“josé!howareyou?”oh,it’sgoodtohearhisvoice.

“i’mfine,ana.look,areyoustillseeingthatgrey

guy?”

“er—yes...why?”whereishegoingwiththis?

“well,he’sboughtallyourphotos,andithoughti

coulddeliverthemuptoseattle.theexhibitioncloses

thursday,soicouldbringthemupfridayeveningand

dropthemoff,youknow.andmaybewecouldcatcha

drinkorsomething.actually,iwashopingforaplaceto

crash,too.”

“josé,that’scool.yeah,i’msurewecouldwork

somethingout.letmetalktochristianandcallyouback,

somethingout.letmetalktochristianandcallyouback,

okay?”

“cool,i’llwaittohearfromyou.bye,ana.”

“bye.”andhe’sgone.

holycow.iha一ven’tseenorheardfromjosésincehis

show.ididn’tevenaskhimhowitwentorifhesoldany

morepictures.somefriendiam.

so,icouldspendtheeveningwithjoséonfriday.

howwillchristianlikethat?ibecomeawarethatiam

bitingmyliptillithurts.oh,thatmanhasdouble

standards.hecan—ishudderatthethought—bathehis

batshitex-lover,butiwillprobablygetatruckloadofgrief

forwantingtoha一veadrinkwithjosé.howamigoingto

handlethis?

“ana!”jackpullsmeabruptlyoutofmyreverie.ishe

stillmad?“where’sthatletter?”

“er—coming.”shit.whatiseatinghim?

itypeuphisletterindouble-quicktime,printitout,

andnervouslymakemywayintohisoffice.

“hereyougo.”iplaceitonhisdeskandturntolea一ve.

jackquicklycastshiscritical,piercing,eyesoverit.

“idon’tknowwhatyou’redoingoutthere,butipay

youtowork,”hebarks.

“i’mawareofthat,jack,”imutterapologetically.ifeel

aslowflushcreepupmyskin.

“thisisfullofmistakes,”hesnaps.“doitagain.”

fuck.he’sbeginningtosoundlikesomeoneiknow,

butrudenessfromchristianicantolerate.jackis

beginningtopissmeoff.

“andgetmeanothercoffeewhileyou’reatit.”

“andgetmeanothercoffeewhileyou’reatit.”

“sorry,”iwhisperandscurryoutofhisofficeas

quicklyasican.

holyfuck.he’sbeingunbearable.isitbackdownat

mydesk,hastilyredohisletter,whichhadtwomistakesin

it,andcheckitthoroughlybeforeprinting.nowit’s

perfect.ifetchhimanothercoffee,lettingclaireknowwith

arollofmyeyesthatiamindeepdoo-doo.takinga

deepbreath,iapproachhisofficeagain.

“better,”hemumblesreluctantlyashesignstheletter.

“photocopyit,filetheoriginal,andmailouttoallauthors.

understand?”

“yes.”iamnotanidiot.“jack,istheresomething

wrong?”

heglancesup,hisblueeyesdarkeningashisgazeruns

upanddownmybody.mybloodchills.

“no.”hisanswerisconcise,rude,anddismissive.i

standthereliketheidiotiprofessednottobeandthen

shufflebackoutofhisoffice.perhapshetoosuffersfroma

personalitydisorder.sheesh,i’msurroundedbythem.i

makemywaytothephotocopier—whichofcourseis

sufferingfromapaperjam—andwheni’vefixedit,ifind

it’soutofpaper.thisisnotmyday.

wheniamfinallybackatmydesk,stuffingenvelopes,

myblackberrybuzzes.icanseethroughtheglasswallthat

jackisonthephone.ianswer—it’sethan.

“hi,ana.how’ditgolastnight?”

lastnight.aquickmontageofimagesflashesthrough

mymind—christiankneeling,hisrevelation,hisproposal,

macaroniandcheese,myweeping,hisnightmare,thesex,

touchinghim...

“eh...fine,”imutterunconvincingly.

ethanpausesanddecidestocolludeinmydenial.

“cool.canicollectthekeys?”

“sure.”

“i’llbeoverinabouthalfanhour.willyouha一vetime

tograbacoffee?”

“nottoday.iwaslategettingin,andmybossislikean

angrybearwithasoreheadandpoisonivyuphisass.”

“soundsnasty.”

“nastyandugly.”igiggle.

ethanlaughsandmymoodliftsalittle.“okay.seeyou

inthirty.”hehangsup.

iglanceupatjackandhe’sstaringatme.ohshit.i

studiouslyignorehimandcontinuetostuffenvelopes.

halfanhourlatermyphonebuzzes.it’sclaire.“he’s

hereagain,inreception.theblondgod.”

ethanisajoytoseeafteralltheangstofyesterdayand

thebadtempermybossisinflictingonmetoday,butall

toosoon,he’ssayinghisgood-byes.

“williseeyouthisevening?”

“i’llprobablystaywithchristian.”iflush.

“youha一vegotitbad,”ethanobservesgoodnaturedly.

ishrug.that’snotthehalfofit,andinthatmomenti

realize,iha一veitmorethanbad.iha一veitforlife.and

amazingly,christianseemstofeelthesame.ethangives

measwifthug.

“laters,ana.”

ireturntomydesk,wrestlingwithmyrealization.oh,

whatiwoulddoforadayonmyown,tojustthinkallthis

through.

“whereha一veyoubeen?”jackissuddenlylooming

overme.

“ihadsomebusinesstoattendtoinreception.”heis

reallygettingonmynerves.

“iwantmylunch.theusual,”hesaysabruptlyand

stompsbackintohisoffice.

whydidn’tistayhomewithchristian?myinner

goddesscrossesherarmsandpursesherlips;shewants

toknowtheanswertothatone,too.pickingupmypurse

andmyblackberry,iheadforthedoor.icheckmy

messages.

from:christiangrey

subject:missingyou

date:june15,201109:06

to:anastasiasteele

mybedistoobigwithoutyou.

lookslikei’llha一vetogotoworkafterall.

evenmegalomaniacceosneedsomethingtodo.

x

christiangrey

twiddlinghisthumbsceo,greyenterprisesholdingsinc.

andthere’sanotherfromhim,fromearlierthismorning.

from:christiangrey

subject:discretion

date:june15,201109:50

to:anastasiasteele

isthebetterpartofvalor.

pleaseusediscretion...yourworke-mailsaremonitored.

howmanytimesdoiha一vetotellyouthis?

yes.shoutycapitalsasyousay.useyourblackberry.

dr.flynncanseeustomorrowevening.

x

christiangrey,

stillpissedceo,greyenterprisesholdingsinc.

andanevenlaterone...ohno.

from:christiangrey

subject:crickets

date:june15,201112:15

to:anastasiasteele

to:anastasiasteele

iha一ven’theardfromyou.

pleasetellmeyouareokay.

youknowhowiworry.

iwillsendtaylortocheck!

x

christiangrey,

over-anxiousceo,greyenterprisesholdingsinc.

irollmyeyes,andcallhim.idon’twanthimtoworry.

“christiangrey’sphone,andreaparkerspeaking.”

oh.iamsodisconcertedthatit’snotchristianwho

answersthatithaltsmeinthestreet,andtheyoungman

behindmemuttersangrilyasheswervestoa一voidbumping

intome.istandunderthegreenawningofthedeli.

“hello?canihelpyou?”andreafillsthevoidof

awkwardsilence.

“sorry...er...iwashopingtospeaktochristian

—”

“mr.greyisinameetingatthemoment.”shebristles

withefficiency.“canitakeamessage?”

“canyoutellhimanacalled?”

“ana?asinanastasiasteele?”

“er...yes.”herquestionconfusesme.

“holdonesecondplease,misssteele.”

ilistenattentivelyassheputsthephonedown,buti

can’ttellwhat’sgoingon.afewsecondslaterchristianis

ontheline.“areyouokay?”

ontheline.“areyouokay?”

“yes,i’mfine.”

ihearthequickreleaseofhisheldbreath.he’s

relieved.

“christian,whywouldn’tibeokay?”iwhisper

reassuringly.

“you’renormallysoquickatrespondingtomyemails.

afterwhatitoldyouyesterday,iwasworried,”he

saysquietly,andthenhe’stalkingtosomeoneinhisoffice.

“no,andrea.tellthemtowait,”hesayssternly.oh,i

knowthattoneofvoice.

ican’thearandrea’sresponse.

“no.isaidwait,”hesnaps.

“christian,you’reobviouslybusy.ionlycalledtolet

youknowthati’mokay,andimeanthat—justverybusy

today.jackhasbeencrackingthewhip.er...i

mean...”iflushandfallsilent.

christiansaysnothingforamoment.

“crackingthewhip,eh?well,therewasatimewheni

wouldha一vecalledhimaluckyman.”hisvoiceisfullofdry

humor.“don’tlethimgetontopofyou,baby.”

“christian!”iscoldhimandiknowhe’sgrinning.

“justwatchhim,that’sall.look,i’mgladyou’re

okay.whattimeshallicollectyou?”

“i’lle-mailyou.”

“fromyourblackberry,”hesayssternly.

“yes,sir,”isnapback.

“laters,baby.”

“bye...”

he’sstillhangingon.

“hangup,”iscold,smiling.

hesighshea一vilydownthephone.“iwishyou’dnever

gonetoworkthismorning.”

“me,too.butiambusy.hangup.”

“youhangup.”ihearhissmile.oh,playfulchristian.i

loveplayfulchristian.hmm...ilovechristian,period.

“we’vebeenherebefore.”

“you’rebitingyourlip.”

shit,he’sright.howdoesheknow?

“yousee,youthinkidon’tknowyou,anastasia.but

iknowyoubetterthanyouthink,”hemurmursseductively

inthatwaythatmakesmeweak,andwet.

“christian,i’lltalktoyoulater.rightnow,ireallywish

ihadn’tleftthismorning,too.”

“i’llwaitforyoure-mail,misssteele.”

“goodday,mr.grey.”

hangingup,ileanagainstthecold,hardglassofthe

delistorewindow.ohmy,evenonthephoneheowns

me.shakingmyheadtoclearitofallthoughtsgrey,i

headintothedeli,depressedbyallthoughtsjack.

heisscowlingwhenigetback.

“isitokayifitakemylunchnow?”iasktentatively.

hegazesupatmeandhisscowldeepens.

“ifyoumust,”hesnaps.“forty-fiveminutes.makeup

thetimeyoulostthismorning.”

“jack,caniaskyousomething?”

“what?”

“youseem,kindofoutofsortstoday.ha一veidone

somethingtooffendyou?”

heblinksatmemomentarily.“idon’tthinki’minthe

moodtolistyourmisdemeanorsrightnow.i’mbusy.”he

continuestostareathiscomputerscreen,effectively

dismissingme.

whoa...whatha一veidone?

iturnandlea一vehisoffice,andforamomentithinki’m

goingtocry.whyhashetakensuchasuddenandintense

disliketome?averyunwelcomeideapopsintomyhead,

butiignoreit.idon’tneedhisshitrightnow—iha一ve

enoughofmyown.

iheadoutofthebuildingtothenearbystarbucks,

orderalatte,andsitdowninthewindow.takingmyipod

frommypurse,iplugmyheadphonesin.ichooseasong

haphazardlyandpressrepeatsoitwillplayoverandover

again.ineedmusictothinkby.

myminddrifts.christianthesadist.christianthe

submissive.christiantheuntouchable.christian’soedipal

impulses.christianbathingleila.igroanandclosemy

eyeswhilethatlastimagehauntsme.

canireallymarrythisman?he’ssomuchtotakein.

he’scomplexanddifficult,butdeepdowniknowidon’t

wanttolea一vehimdespiteallhisissues.icouldneverlea一ve

him.ilovehim.itwouldbelikecuttingoffmyrightarm.

rightnow,iha一veneverfeltsoalive,sovital.i’ve

encounteredallmannerofperplexing,profoundfeelings

andnewexperiencessinceimethim.it’sneveradull

andnewexperiencessinceimethim.it’sneveradull

momentwithfifty.

lookingbackonmylifebeforechristian,it’sasif

everythingwasinblackandwhitelikejosé’spictures.

nowmywholeworldisinrich,bright,saturatedcolor.i

amsoaringinabeamofdazzlinglight,christian’sdazzling

light.iamstillicarus,flyingtooclosetohissun.isnortto

myself.flyingwithchristian—whocanresistamanwho

canfly?

canigivehimup?doiwanttogivehimup?it’sasif

he’sflippedaswitchandlitmeupfromwithin.it’sbeen

aneducationknowinghim.iha一vediscoveredmoreabout

myselfinthelastfewweeksthaneverbefore.i’velearned

aboutmybody,myhardlimits,mysoftlimits,my

tolerance,mypatience,mycompassion,andmycapacity

forlove.

anditstrikesmelikeathunderbolt—that’swhathe

needsfromme,whathe’sentitledto—unconditionallove.

heneverreceiveditfromthecrackwhore—it’swhathe

needs.canilovehimunconditionally?caniaccepthim

forwhoheisregardlessofhisrevelationslastnight?

iknowhe’sdamaged,butidon’tthinkhe’s

irredeemable.isigh,recallingtaylor’swords.“he’sa

goodman,misssteele.”

i’veseentheweightyevidenceofhisgoodness—his

charitywork,hisbusinessethics,hisgenerosity—andyet

hedoesn’tseeitinhimself.hedoesn’tfeeldeservingof

anylove.givenhishistoryandhispredilections,iha一vean

inklingofhisself-loathing—that’swhyhe’sneverlet

anyonein.canigetpastthis?

anyonein.canigetpastthis?

hesaidoncethaticouldn’tbegintounderstandthe

depthsofhisdepra一vity.well,he’stoldmenow,andgiven

thefirstfewyearsofhislife,itdoesn’tsurpriseme.though

itwasstillashocktohearitoutloud.atleasthe’stoldme

—andheseemshappiernowthathehas.iknow

everything.

doesitdevaluehisloveforme?no,idon’tthinkso.

he’sneverfeltthiswaybeforeandneitherha一vei.intruth

we’vebothcomesofar.

tearsprickandpoolinmyeyesasirecallhisfinal

barrierscrumblinglastnightwhenheletmetouchhim.

jeez,ittookleilaandallhercrazytogetustothere.

perhapsishouldbegrateful.thefactthathebathed

herisnotquitesuchabittertasteonmytonguenow.i

wonderwhichclotheshega一veher.ihopeitwasn’tthe

plumdress.ilikedthat.

socanilovethismanwithallhisissues

unconditionally?becausehedeservesnothingless.hestill

needstolearnboundariesandlittlethingslikeempathy,

andtobelesscontrolling.hesayshenolongerfeelsthe

compulsiontohurtme;perhapsdr.flynnwillbeableto

castsomelightonthat.

fundamentally,that’swhatconcernsmemost—thathe

needsthatandhasalwaysfoundlike-mindedwomenwho

needit,too.ifrown.yes,thisisthereassuranceineed.i

wanttobeallthingstothisman,hisalphaandhisomega

andallthingsinbetweenbecauseheistome.

ihopeflynnwillha一vetheanswers,andmaybetheni

cansayyes.christianandicanfindourownsliceof

cansayyes.christianandicanfindourownsliceof

hea一venclosetothesun.

igazeoutatbustling,lunchtimeseattle.mrs.christian

grey—whowouldha一vethought?iglanceatmywatch.