Chapter 62 (1/2)

”Mine,” he breathes. ”Do as you're told. Hang up.”

”Yes, Sir.” I hang up and grin stupidly at the phone. A few moments later, an e-mail appears in my inbox.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Twitching Palms

Date: August 25, 2011 13:42 EDT

To: Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey

You are as entertaining as ever on the phone.

I mean it. Do as you're told.

I need to know you're safe.

I love you.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Honestly, he's the bossy one. But one phone call and all my anxiety has disappeared. He's arrived safely and he's fussing about me as usual. I hug myself momentarily. God, I love that man. Hannah knocks on my door, distracting me, and I land back with a thump in my office.

Kate looks gorgeous. In her tight white jeans and red camisole, she's ready to rock the town. She's chatting animatedly to Claire in reception when I make my entrance.

”Ana!” she cries, scooping me up in a Kate hug. She holds me at arm's length.

”Don't you look the mogul's wife? Who would have thought, little Ana Steele? You look so . . . sophisticated!” She grins. I roll my eyes at her. I'm wearing a pale cream shift dress with a navy belt and navy pumps.

”It's good to see you, Kate.” I hug her back.

”So, where are we going?”

”Christian wants us to go back to the apartment.”

”Aw, really? Can't we sneak a quick cocktail at the Zig Zag Cafe?

I've booked us a table.”

I open my mouth to protest.

”Please?” she whines and pouts prettily. She must be picking this up from Mia. She never pouts normally. I'd really like a cocktail at the Zig Zag. We had such fun the last time we went there, and it's close to Kate's apartment.

I hold up my index finger. ”One.”

She grins. ”One” She links her arm in mine, and we stroll out to the car, which is parked at the curb with Sawyer at the wheel. We're followed out by Miss Samantha Prescott who's new to the security team - - a tall African-American with a no-nonsense attitude. I've yet to warm to her, maybe because she's too cool and professional. The jury's definitely out, but like the rest of the team, she's been hand-picked by Taylor. She's dressed like Sawyer, in a dark somber pantsuit.

”Can you take us to the Zig Zag, please, Sawyer?”

Sawyer turns to look at me, and I know he wants to say something. He's obviously been given his orders. He hesitates.

”The Zig Zag Cafe. We'll only have one.”

I give Kate a sideways glance and she's glaring at Sawyer. Poor man.

”Yes, ma'am.”

”Mr. Grey requested you go back to the apartment,” Prescott pipes up.

”Mr. Grey isn't here,” I snap. ”The Zig Zag, please.”