Classic Novel
Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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“I have something for you.”
This is it. Will she accept my gift? This is the final stage of my campaign to win her back. Opening the
trunk, I grab the gift box that contains her Mac, her phone, and an iPad. She looks from the box to me
with suspicion. “Open it when you get inside.”
“You’re not coming in?”
“No, Anastasia.” As much as I’d like to. We both need to sleep.
“So when will I see you?”
“Tomorrow?”
“My boss wants me to go for a drink with him tomorrow.”
What the hell does that fucker want? I must chase Welch for his report on Hyde. There’s something off
about him that isn’t reflected in his employee records. I don’t trust him one bit. “Does he, now?” I try to
sound nonchalant.
“To celebrate my first week,” she says, quickly.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“I could pick you up from there.”
“Okay. I’ll e-mail or text you.”
“Good.”
We walk to the lobby door together and I watch, amused, as she rummages around in her purse for her
keys. She unlocks the door and turns to say good-bye—and I can’t resist her any longer. Leaning
down, I cup her chin in my fingers. I want to kiss her hard, but I hold back and trace soft kisses from her
temple to her mouth. She moans and the sweet sound travels straight to my cock.
“Until tomorrow,” I say, failing to keep the desire out of my voice.
“Good night, Christian,” she whispers, and her longing echoes my own.
Oh, baby. Tomorrow. Not now.
“In you go,” I order, and it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done: letting her leave knowing that
she’s mine for the taking. My body ignores my noble gesture and stiffens in anticipation. I shake my
head, amazed as ever by my lust for Ana.
“Laters, baby,” I call after her and, turning toward the street I head to the car, determined not to look
back. Once I’m inside the car, I allow myself to look. She’s still there, standing on the doorstep,
watching me.
Good.
Go to bed, Ana, I will her. As if she hears me, she closes the door, and Taylor starts the car to head
home to Escala.
I lean back in my seat.
What a difference a day makes.
I grin. She’s mine, once more.
I imagine her in her apartment, opening the box. Will she be pissed? Or will she be delighted?
She’ll be pissed.
She never took kindly to gifts.
Shit. Was it a step too far?
Taylor heads into the garage at Escala and we pull into the vacant parking space next to Ana’s A3.
“Taylor, will you deliver Miss Steele’s Audi to her place tomorrow?” I hope she will accept the car, too.
“Yes, Mr. Grey.”
I leave him in the garage, doing whatever he does, and head for the elevator. Once inside, I check my
phone to see if she has anything to say about the gifts. Just as the elevator doors open and I step into
my apartment, there’s an e-mail.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: iPad
Date: June 9 2011 23:56
To: Christian Grey
You’ve made me cry again.
I love the iPad.
I love the songs.
I love the British Library app.
I love you.
Thank you.
Good night.
Ana xx
I grin at the screen. Happy tears, great!
She loves it.
She loves me.
FRIDAY, JUNE 10, 2011
* * *
She loves me.
It’s taken a three-hour car ride for me not to flinch at this thought. But then again, she doesn’t really
know me. She doesn’t know what I’m capable of, or why I do what I do. No one can love a monster, no
matter how compassionate they are.
I put the thought out of my mind because I don’t want to dwell on the negative.
Flynn would be proud.
Quickly, I type a response to her e-mail.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: iPad
Date: June 10 2011 00:03
To: Anastasia Steele
I’m glad you like it. I bought one for myself.
Now, if I were there, I would kiss away your tears.
But I’m not—so go to sleep.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I want her well rested for tomorrow. I stretch, feeling a contentment that’s entirely unfamiliar, and
wander into my bedroom. Looking forward to collapsing into bed, I put my phone on the nightstand and
notice there’s another e-mail from her.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Mr. Grumpy
Date: June 10 2011 00:07
To: Christian Grey
You sound your usual bossy and possibly tense, possibly grumpy self, Mr. Grey.
I know something that could ease that. But then, you’re not here—you wouldn’t let me stay, and you
expect me to beg…
Dream on, Sir. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.
Ana xx
P.S.: I also note that you included the Stalker’s Anthem, “Every Breath You Take.” I do enjoy your
sense of humor, but does Dr. Flynn know?
And there it is. The Anastasia Steele wit. I have missed it. I sit down on the edge of the bed and
compose my reply.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Zen-Like Calm
Date: June 10 2011 00:10
To: Anastasia Steele
My Dearest Miss Steele
Source:
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