Chapter 121

I run both hands through my hair. This trip isn’t working out how I expected, at all. Perhaps it was a mistake to come down here. And to think it was Elena who encouraged me to make the trip.

My phone buzzes, and I hope it’s Ana. It’s Ros.

“Yes,” I snap.

“Jeez, Christian. Am I interrupting something?”

“No. Sorry. What’s up?” Calm down, Grey.

“I thought I’d update you on my conversation with Marco. But if now is a bad time, I’ll call back in the morning.”

“No, it’s fine.”

There’s a knock on the door. “Hang on, Ros.” I open it, expecting Taylor or someone from housekeeping to do turndown—but it’s Ana, standing in the corridor, looking bashful and beautiful.

She’s here.

Opening the door wider, I motion her in.

“All the redundancy packages concluded?” I ask Ros, without taking my eyes off Ana.

“Yes.”

Ana walks into the room, watching me warily, her lips parted and moist, her eyes darkening. What’s this? A change of heart? I know that look. It’s desire. She wants me. And I want her, too, especially after our spat in the bar.

Why else would she be here?

“And the cost?” I question Ros.

“Nearly two million.”

I whistle through my teeth. “That was one expensive mistake.”

“GEH gets to exploit the fiber-optic division.” She’s right. This was one of our goals.

“And Lucas?” I ask.

“He reacted badly.”

I open the minibar and gesture to Ana to help herself. Leaving her there, I stroll into the bedroom.

“What did he do?”

“He threw a fit.”

In the bathroom I turn on the faucet to run water into the huge sunken marble bath and add some scented bath oil. There’s room for six people in here.

“The majority of that money is for him,” I remind Ros as I check the water temperature. “And he has the buyout price for the company. He can always start again.”

I turn to leave, but as an afterthought I decide to light the various candles that are artfully arranged on the stone bench. Lit candles count as “more,” don’t they?

“Well, he’s threatening lawyers, though I don’t understand why. We’re bulletproof on this. Is that water I hear?” Ros asks.

“Yeah, I’m running a bath.”

“Oh? Do you want me to go?”

“No. Anything else?”

“Yes, Fred wants to talk to you.”

“Really?”

“He’s gone over Barney’s new design.”

As I wander back into the living room, I acknowledge Barney’s design solution for the tablet and ask her to have Andrea send me the revised schematics. Ana has retrieved a bottle of orange juice.

“Is this your new management style: not being here?” Ros asks. I laugh out loud, but mainly at Ana’s choice of beverage. Wise woman. And I tell Ros that I won’t be back in the office until Friday.

“Are you seriously going to change your mind about Detroit?”

“There’s a plot of land here that I’m interested in.”

“Is Bill aware of this?” Ros is snippy.

“Yeah, get Bill to call.”

“Will do. Did you get a drink with the Savannah people this evening?”

I tell her that I’ll be seeing them tomorrow. I’m more conciliatory and mindful of my tone, as this is a hot button for Ros. “I want to see what Georgia will offer if we move in.” I take a glass off the shelf, hand it to Ana, and point to the ice bucket.

“If their incentives are attractive enough,” I continue, “I think we should consider it, though I’m not sure about the damned heat here.”

Ana pours her drink.

“It’s late to be changing your mind on this, Christian. But it might give us some leverage with Detroit,” Ros muses.

“I agree, Detroit has its advantages, too, and it’s cooler.”

But there are too many ghosts there for me.

“Get Bill to call. Tomorrow.” It’s late now and I have a visitor. “Not too early,” I warn. Ros says good night and I hang up.

Ana eyes me with reserve as I drink her in. Her lush hair falls over small shoulders, framing her lovely, pensive face. “You didn’t answer my question,” she murmurs.

“No. I didn’t.”

“No, you didn’t answer my question, or no, you didn’t love her?”

She’s not going to let this go. I lean against the wall and fold my arms so I don’t pull her into them. “What are you doing here, Anastasia?”

“I’ve just told you.”

Put her out of her misery, Grey.

“No. I didn’t love her.”

Her shoulders relax and her face softens. It’s what she wanted to hear.

“You’re quite the green-eyed goddess, Anastasia. Who would have thought?”

But are you my green-eyed goddess?

“Are you making fun of me, Mr. Grey?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” I retort.

“Oh, I think you would, and I think you do—often.” She smirks and sinks perfect teeth into her lip.

She’s doing that on purpose.

“Please stop biting your lip. You’re in my room, I haven’t set eyes on you for nearly three days, and I’ve flown a long way to see you.” I need to know that we’re okay, the only way I know how. I want to fuck her, hard.

My phone buzzes, but I switch it off without checking the caller. Whoever it is can wait.