Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

to pack.
    Kate and I are in the kitchen when there’s a knock at the door. Taylor stands on the porch, looking immaculate in his suit. I notice the trace of ex-army in his buzz cut, trim physique, and his cool stare.
    “Miss Steele,” he says. “I’ve come for your car.”
    “Oh yes, of course. Come in, I’ll fetch the keys.”
    Surely this is above and beyond the call of duty. I wonder again at Taylor’s job description. I hand him the keys, and we walk in an uncomfortable silence – for me – toward the light blue Beetle. I open the door and remove the flashlight from the glove box. That’s it. I have nothing else that’s personal in Wanda. Goodbye, Wanda. Thank you. I caress her roof as I close the passenger door.
    “How long have you worked for Mr. Grey?” I ask.
    “Four years, Miss Steele.”
    Suddenly, I have an overwhelming urge to bombard him with questions. What this man must know about Christian, all his secrets. But then he’s probably signed an NDA. I look nervously at him. He has the same taciturn expression as Ray, and I warm to him.
    “He’s a good man, Miss Steele,” he says, and he smiles slightly. With that, he gives me a little nod, climbs into my car, and drives away.
    Apartment, Beetle, Claytons – it’s all change now. I shake my head as I wander back inside. And the biggest change of all is Christian Grey. Taylor thinks he’s a good man. Can I believe him?
    José joins us with a Chinese take-out at eight. We’re done. We’re packed and ready to go. He brings several bottles of beer, and Kate and I sit on the couch while he’s cross-legged on the floor between us. We watch crap TV, drink beer, and as the evening wears on, we fondly and loudly reminisce as the beer takes effect. It’s been a good four years.
    The atmosphere between José and I has returned to normal, the attempted kiss forgotten. Well, it’s been swept under the rug that my inner goddess is lying on, eating grapes and tapping her fingers, waiting not so patiently for Sunday. There’s a knock on the door, and my heart leaps into my throat. Is it…?
    Kate answers the door and is nearly knocked off her feet by Elliot. He seizes her in a Hollywood-style clinch that moves quickly into a European art house embrace. Honestly… get a room. José and I stare at each other. I’m appalled at their lack of modesty.
    “Shall we walk down to the bar?” I ask José, who nods frantically. We are too uncomfortable with the unrestrained sexing unfolding in front of us. Kate looks up at me, flushed and bright-eyed.
    “José and I are going for a quick drink.” I roll my eyes at her. Ha! I can still roll my eyes in my own time.
    “Okay,” she grins.
    “Hi, Elliot. Bye, Elliot.”
    He winks a big blue eye at me, and José and I are out of the door, giggling like teenagers.
    As we stroll down to the bar, I put my arm through José’s. God, he’s so uncomplicated – I hadn’t really appreciated that before.
    “You’ll still come to the opening of my show, won’t you?”
    “Of course, José, when is it?”
    “June 9.”
    “What day is that?” I suddenly panic.
    “It’s a Thursday.”
    “Yeah I should make that… and you will visit us in Seattle?”
    “Try and stop me.” He grins.
    It’s late when I arrive back from the bar. Kate and Elliot are nowhere to be seen but boy can they be heard. Holy shit. I hope I’m not that loud. I know Christian isn’t. I flush at the thought and escape to my room. After a brief not-at-all-awkward-thank-goodness hug, José has gone. I don’t know when I’ll see him again, probably his photographic show, and once again, I’m blown away that he finally has an exhibition. I shall miss him and his boyish charm. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the Beetle. I know he’ll freak when he finds out, and I can only deal with one man at a time freaking out at me. Once in my room, I check the mean machine, and of course, there’s an e-mail from Christian.

    From: Christian Grey
    Subject: Where Are You?
    Date: May 27 2011 22:14
    To: Anastasia Steele
    ‘I am at work. I will e-mail you when I get home.’ Are you still at work or have you packed your phone, BlackBerry and MacBook?
Call me, or I may be forced to call Elliot.
    Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
    Crap… José… shit.
    I grab my phone. Five missed calls and one voice message. Tentatively, I listen to the message. It’s Christian.
    ‘I think you need to learn to manage my