Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 10

“Elena, this is a courtesy call. I’m gifting you the business. I’ve been in touch with Debra Kingston;

she’s drawing up the paperwork. It’s over. We can’t do this anymore.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I mean it. I no longer have the energy for your bullshit. I asked you to leave Ana alone and you ignored

my request. We reap what we sow, Mrs. Lincoln. It’s over. Don’t call me.”

“Chris—” I hear the alarm in her voice as I hang up.

My phone buzzes immediately, her name flashing on my screen. I switch it off and look over my to-do

list.

I have about an hour before the press conference, so to take my mind off Elena, I pick up my office

phone and call my brother.

“Hey, hotshot. Having second thoughts?”

“Fuck off, Elliot.”

“She’s having second thoughts?” He snickers.

“Could you silence your inner asshole for two minutes?”

“That long? Dubious.”

“I’m buying a house.”

“Whoa. For you and the future Mrs. Grey? That was quick. You knocked her up?”

“No!” For fuck’s sake.

He cackles on his end of the phone. “Don’t tell me. It’s in Denny-Blaine or Laurelhurst?”

Ah, the tech millionaires’ suburbs of choice.

“No.”

“Medina?”

I laugh. “That’s far too near Mom and Dad. It’s on the water just north of Broadview.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I want to watch the sun sink into the Sound, not rise above a lake.”

Elliot laughs. “Man. Who knew you were such a romantic?”

I scoff. I certainly didn’t. “It needs gutting.”

“It does?” That has Elliot’s interest. “You want me to recommend someone?”

“No, dude. I want you to do it. I want something sustainable and environmentally friendly. You know, all

the shit you champion at family meals.”

“Oh. Wow.” He sounds surprised. “Can I see the place?”

“Yes, of course. I’ve not gone to contract yet, but we’re going ahead with surveys over the next week or

so.”

“Sure. This is rad. But you’ll need an architect. I can only do so much.”

“What was the name of the woman who oversaw the renovations in Aspen?”

“Um…Gia Matteo. She’s cool. She’s now at some fancy downtown firm.”

“She did a great job at the house in Aspen. And I seem to remember she had an impressive and

imaginative portfolio. Do you recommend her?”

“Yeah. Um… Sure.”

“You sound hesitant.”

“Well, you know. She’s the kind of woman who doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s…ambitious. Hungry. Driven to get what she wants.”

“I’ve got no problem with that.”

“Neither have I,” says Elliot. “In fact, I rather like a predatory female.” NôvelDrama.Org is the owner.

“You do?” Well, Kavanagh fits that bill.

“She and I…” Elliot trails off.

I can’t help my eye roll. My brother suffers from sexual incontinence. “Will that be awkward?”

“No. Of course not. She knows her shit.”

“I’ll call her. And take a look at her updated portfolio.” I scribble down her name.

“Cool. Let me know when we can scout the place.”

“Will do. Laters.”

“Dude.”

I hang up, wondering how many women he’s fucked. I shake my head. Does he know that Katherine

Kavanagh has designs on him? Could he not see that over the weekend? I hope he doesn’t end up

with her. She is possibly the most annoying woman I know.

Sam has e-mailed the statement for the press conference, which is in half an hour. I review it and make

some changes; as usual, his prose is overwrought and pretentious. Sometimes I don’t know why I hired

him.

Twenty minutes later he’s knocking on my door.

“Christian. Are you ready?”

“So, Mr. Grey, are you suggesting that this could be sabotage?” the journalist from The Seattle Times

asks.

“I’m not saying that at all. We are keeping an open mind and waiting for the accident report.”

“Congratulations on your engagement, Mr. Grey. How did you meet Anastasia Steele?” I think this

woman is from Seattle Metropolitan.

“I’m not answering any specific questions about my private life. I’ll just reiterate, I’m thrilled she’s

consented to be my wife.”

“That’s the last question, thank you, ladies and gentlemen.” Sam comes to my rescue and ushers me

out of the GEH conference room.

Thank God that’s over.

“You did well,” Sam says, as if I need his approval. “I’m sure the press are going to want a picture of

you and Anastasia together. I don’t think they’ll stop hounding you until they have one.”

“I’ll think about it. Right now I just want to go back to my office.”

Sam smirks. “Of course, Christian. I’ll send you a compilation of the conference press coverage when

we get it.”

“Thanks.” Why is he smirking?

I step into the elevator and I’m delighted to find that I have it to myself. I check my phone. There are

missed calls from Elena.

For heaven’s sake, Mrs. Lincoln. We’re done.

There’s also an e-mail from Ana.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: The News!

Date: June 20 2011 16:55

To: Christian Grey

Mr. Grey

You give good press conference.

Why does that not surprise me?

You looked hot.

Loved your tie.

Ax

PS: Sabotage?

My hand strays to my tie. That Brioni tie. My favorite.

I looked hot. These words give me more pleasure than they should. I like to look hot for Ana, and her e-

mail gives me an idea.

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