Chapter 60 (1/2)

”Oh. Does Taylor carry a gun?”

Christian's mouth thins.

”Sometimes.”

”You don't approve?” I ask, as Christian ushers me out of the elevator on the ground floor.

”No,” he says, tight-lipped. ”Let's just say that Taylor and I hold very different views with regard to gun control.” Oh! I am with Taylor on this.

Christian holds the foyer door open for me and I head out to the car. He has not let me drive alone to SIP since he found out that Charlie Tango was sabotaged. Sawyer smiles pleasantly, holding the door open for me as Christian and I climb into the car.

”Please.” I reach across and grasp Christian's hand.

”Please what?”

”Learn how to shoot.”

He rolls his eyes at me. ”No. End of discussion, Anastasia.”

And I am a child again to be scolded. I open my mouth to say something cutting, but decide I don't want to start my workday in a bad mood. I fold my arms instead, and glimpse Taylor regarding me in the rearview mirror. He looks away, concentrating on the road in front, but shakes his head a little, in obvious frustration. Hmm . . . Christian drives him crazy, too, sometimes. The thought makes me smile, and my mood is saved.

”Where is Leila?” I ask, as Christian gazes out of his window.

”I told you. She's in Connecticut with her folks.” He glances at me.

”Did you check? After all, she does have long hair. It could have been her driving the Dodge.”

”Yes, I checked. She's enrolled in an art school in Hamden. She started this week.”

”You've spoken to her?” I whisper, all the blood draining from my face.

Christian whips his head around at the tone of my voice.

”No. Flynn has.” He searches my face for a clue to my thoughts.

”I see,” I murmur, relieved.

”What?”

”Nothing.”

Christian sighs. ”Ana. What is it?”

I shrug, not wanting to admit to my irrational jealousy. Christian continues, ”I'm keeping tabs on her, checking that she stays on her side of the continent. She's better, Ana. Flynn has referred her to a shrink in New Haven, and all the reports are very positive. She's always been interested in art, so . . .” He stops, his face still searching mine. And in that moment I suspect that he is paying for her art classes. Do I want to know? Should I ask him? I mean it's not like he can't afford it, but why does he feel the obligation? I sigh. Christian's baggage, hardly compares to Bradley Kent from biology class and his half-assed attempts to kiss me. Christian reaches for my hand.

”Don't sweat this, Anastasia,” he murmurs, and I return his reassuring squeeze. I know he's doing what he thinks is right.

Midmorning I have a break in meetings. As I pick up the phone to call Kate, I notice an e-mail from Christian.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Flattery

Date: August 23, 2011 09:54

To: Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey

I have received three compliments on my new haircut. Compliments from my staff are new. It must be the ridiculous smile I'm wearing whenever I think about last night. You are indeed a wonderful, talented, beautiful woman.

And all mine.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I melt reading it.

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: Trying to concentrate here.

Date: August 23, 2011 10:48

To: Christian Grey

Mr. Grey

I am trying to work and don't want to be distracted by delicious memories.

Is now the time to confess that I used to cut Ray's hair regularly?

I had no idea it would be such useful training.

And yes, I am yours and you, my dear overbearing husband who refuses to exercise his constitutional right under the second amendment to bear arms, are mine. But don't worry because I shall protect you. Always.

Anastasia Grey

Commissioning Editor, SIP

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Annie Oakley

Date: August 23, 2011 10:53

To: Anastasia Grey