Fifty Shades Trilogy 02 - Fifty Shades Darker

have never been to New York.
    Don’t get your knickers in a twist.

    Anastasia Steele
    Assistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIP

    From: Christian Grey
    Subject: No YOU haven’t seen shouty yet.
    Date: June 13, 2011 09:50
    To: Anastasia Steele

    Anastasia
    It’s not my fucking knickers I am worried about.
    The answer is NO.

    Christian Grey
    CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

    “No!” I shout at my computer, causing the entire office to come to a standstill and stare at me. Jack peers out from his office.
    “Everything all right, Ana?”
    “Yes. Sorry,” I mutter. “I er . . . just didn’t save a document.” I am scarlet with embarrassment. He smiles at me but with a puzzled expression. I take several deep breaths and quickly type a response. I am so mad.

    From: Anastasia Steele
    Subject: Fifty Shades
    Date: June 13, 2011 09:55
    To: Christian Grey

    Christian
    You need to get a grip.
    I am NOT going to sleep with Jack—not for all the tea in China.
    I LOVE you. That’s what happens when people love each other.
    They TRUST each other.
    I don’t think you are going to SLEEP WITH, SPANK, FUCK, or WHIP anyone else. I have FAITH and TRUST in you.
    Please extend the same COURTESY to me.
    Ana

    Anastasia Steele
    Assistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIP

    I sit waiting for his response. Nothing arrives. I call the airline and book a ticket for myself, ensuring I am on the same flight as Jack. I hear the ping of new mail.

    From: Lincoln, Elena
    Subject: Lunch Date
    Date: June 13, 2011 10:15
    To: Anastasia Steele

    Dear Anastasia
    I would really like to have lunch with you. I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to make that right. Are you free sometime this week?

    Elena Lincoln

    Holy crap—not Mrs. Robinson ! How the hell did she find out my e-mail address? I put my head in my hands. Can this day get any worse?
    My phone rings and wearily I lift my head from my hands and answer, glancing at the clock. It is only ten twenty, and already I wish I hadn’t left Christian’s bed.
    “Jack Hyde’s office, Ana Steele speaking.”
    An achingly familiar voice snarls at me, “Will you please delete the last e-mail you sent me and try to be a little more circumspect in the language you use in your work e-mail? I told you, the system is monitored. I shall endeavor to do some damage limitation from here.” He hangs up.
      Holy fuck . . . I sit staring at the phone. Christian hung up on me. That man is stomping all over my fledgling career, and he hangs up on me? I glare at the receiver, and if it wasn’t completely inanimate, I know it would shrivel in horror under my withering stare.
    I open my e-mails and delete the one I sent him. It’s not that bad. I just mention spanking and well, whipping. Jeez, if he’s so ashamed of it, he damn well shouldn’t do it. I pick up my Blackberry and call his mobile.
    “What?” he snaps.
    “I am going to New York whether you like it or not,” I hiss.
    “Don’t count—”
    I hang up, cutting him off mid-sentence. Adrenaline is coursing through my body. There—that told him. I am so mad.  
    I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. Closing my eyes, I imagine that I am in my happy place. Hmm . . . a boat cabin with Christian . I shake the image off as I am too mad at Fifty right now for him to be anywhere near my happy place.  
    Opening my eyes, I calmly reach for my notebook and carefully run through my to do list. I take a long, deep breath, my equilibrium restored.
    “Ana!” Jack shouts, startling me. “Don’t book that flight!”
    “Oh, too late. I’ve done it,” I reply as he strides out of his office over to me. He looks mad.
    “Look, there’s something going on. For some reason, suddenly, all travel and hotel expenses for staff have to be approved by senior management. This has come right from the top. I am going up to see old Roach. Apparently, a moratorium on all spending has just been implemented. I don’t understand it.” Jack pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes.
    Most of the blood drains from my face and knots form in my stomach . Fifty!
    “Take my calls. I’ll go see what Roach has to say.” He winks at me and strides off to see his boss—not the boss’s boss.
    Damn it. Christian Grey . . . My blood starts to boil again.

    From:  Anastasia Steele
    Subject:  What have you done?
    Date:  June 13, 2011 10:43
    To:  Christian Grey

    Please tell me you won’t interfere with