Chapter 85 (1/2)

“Great. Bye for now.”

I close WebEx, then phone Andrea.

“Mr. Grey.”

“Call Dr. Baxter and have him come to my apartment on Sunday, around midday. If he’s not available, find a good gynecologist. Get the best.”

“Yes, sir,” she says. “Anything else?”

“Yes. What’s the name of the personal shopper I use at Neiman Marcus at the Bravern center?”

“Caroline Acton.”

“Text me her number.”

“Will do.”

“I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up.

So far it’s been one interesting morning. I can’t recall any exchange of e-mails being that fun, ever. I glance at the laptop, but there’s nothing new. Ana must be at work.

I run my hands through my hair.

Ros noticed how distracted I was during that conversation.

Shit, Grey. Get your act together.

I wolf down my breakfast, drink some cold coffee, and head into my bedroom to shower and change. Even when I’m washing my hair I can’t get that woman out of my head. Ana.

Amazing Ana.

The image of her bouncing up and down on top of me comes to mind; of her lying over my knee, ass pink; of her tethered to the bed, mouth open in ecstasy. Lord, that woman is hot. And this morning, waking up next to her, it wasn’t so bad, and I slept well…really well.

Shouty capitals. Her e-mails make me laugh. They’re entertaining. She’s funny. I never knew I liked that in a woman. I’ll need to think about what we’ll do on Sunday in my playroom…something fun, something new for her.

While shaving I have an idea, and as soon as I’m dressed I get back on my laptop to browse my favorite toy store. I need a riding crop—brown plaited leather. I smirk. I’m going to make Ana’s dreams come true.

Order placed, I turn to work e-mails, energized and productive, until Taylor interrupts me. “Good morning, Taylor.”

“Mr. Grey.” He nods, looking at me with a puzzled expression, and I realize I’m grinning because I’m thinking about her e-mails again.

Descriptive linguistics is a hard limit for me.

“I’ve had a good morning,” I find myself explaining.

“I’m pleased to hear it, sir. I have Miss Steele’s laundry from last week.”

“Pack it with my things.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you.” I watch him walk into my bedroom. Even Taylor is noticing the Anastasia Steele effect. My phone buzzes: it’s a text from Elliot.

You still in Portland?

Yes. But I’m leaving soon.

I’ll be there later. I’m gonna help the girls move.

Shame you can’t stay.

Our first DOUBLE DATE since Ana popped your cherry.

Fuck off. I’m picking up Mia.

I need deets bro. Kate tells me nothing.

Good. Fuck off. Again.

“Mr. Grey?” Taylor interrupts once more, my luggage in hand. “The courier has been dispatched with the BlackBerry.”

“Thanks.”

He nods, and as he leaves I type up another e-mail to Miss Steele.

* * *

From: Christian Grey