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return to the table.
“You’ve been gone so long.” Kate scolds me. “Where were you?”
“I was in line for the restroom.”
José and Levi are having some heated debate about our local baseball team. José
pauses in his tirade to pour us all beers, and I take a long sip.
“Kate, I think I’d better step outside and get some fresh air.”
“Ana, you are such a lightweight.”
“I’ll be five minutes.”
I make my way through the crowd again. I am begi
spi
Drinking in the cool evening air in the parking lot makes me realize how drunk I am.
My vision has been affected, and I’m really seeing double of everything like in old re-runs
of Tom and Jerry Cartoons.I think I’m going to be sick. Why did I let myself get this
messed up?
“Ana,” José has joined me. “You okay?”
“I think I’ve just had a bit too much to drink.” I smile weakly at him.
“Me too,” he murmurs, and his dark eyes are watching me intently. “Do you need a
hand?” he asks and steps closer, putting his arm around me.
“José I’m okay. I’ve got this.” I try and push him away rather feebly.
“Ana, please,” he whispers, and now he’s holding me in his arms, pulling me close.
“José, what you doing?”
“You know I like you Ana, please.” He has one hand at the small of my back holding
me against him, the other at my chin tipping back my head. Holy fuck… he’s going to kiss
me.“No José, stop – no.” I push him, but he’s a wall of hard muscle, and I ca
His hand has slipped into my hair, and he’s holding my head in place.
“Please, Ana, cariña,” he whispers against my lips. His breath is soft and smells too
sweet – of margarita and beer. He gently trails kisses along my jaw up to the side of my
mouth. I feel panicky, drunk, and out of control. The feeling is suffocating.
“José, no,” I plead. I don’t want this.You are my friend, and I think I’m going to throw
up. “I think the lady said no.” A voice in the dark says quietly. Holy shit! Christian Grey,
he’s here. How? José releases me.
“Grey,” he says tersely. I glance anxiously up at Christian. He’s glowering at José,
and he’s furious. Crap. My stomach heaves, and I double over, my body no longer able to
tolerate the alcohol, and I vomit spectacularly on to the ground.
“Ugh – Dios mio, Ana!” José jumps back in disgust. Grey grabs my hair and pulls it
out of the firing line and gently leads me over to a raised flowerbed on the edge of the park-
ing lot. I note, with deep gratitude, that it’s in relative darkness.
“If you’re going to throw up again, do it here. I’ll hold you.” He has one arm around
my shoulders – the other is holding my hair in a makeshift ponytail down my back so it’s
off my face. I try awkwardly to push him away, but I vomit again… and again. Oh shit…
how long is this going to last?Even when my stomach’s empty and nothing is coming up,
horrible dry heaves wrack my body. I vow silently that I’ll never ever drink again. This is
just too appalling for words. Finally, it stops.
My hands are resting on the brick wall of the flowerbed, barely holding me up - vomit-
ing profusely is exhausting. Grey takes his hands off me and passes me a handkerchief.
Only he would have a monogrammed, freshly laundered, linen handkerchief. CTG.I
didn’t know you could still buy these. Vaguely I wonder what the T stands for as I wipe
my mouth. I ca
myself. I want to be swallowed up by the azaleas in the flowerbed and be anywhere but
here.José is still hovering by the entrance to the bar, watching us. I groan and put my head
in my hands. This has to be the single worst moment of my life. My head is still swimming
as I try to remember a worse one – and I can only come up with Christian’s rejection – and
this is so, so many shades darker in terms of humiliation. I risk a peek at him. He’s staring
down at me, his face composed, giving nothing away. Turning, I glance at José who looks
pretty shamefaced himself and, like me, intimidated by Grey. I glare at him. I have a few
choice words for my so-called friend, none of which I can repeat in front of Christian Grey
CEO. Ana who are you kidding, he’s just seen you hurl all over the ground and into the
local flora. There’s no disguising your lack of ladylike behavior.
“I’ll err… see you inside,” José mutters, but we both ignore him, and he slinks off back
into the building. I’m on my own with Grey. Double crap. What should I say to him?
Apologize for the phone call.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, staring at the handkerchief which I am furiously worrying with
my fingers. It’s so soft.
“What are you sorry for Anastasia?”
Oh crap, he wants his damned pound of flesh.
“The phone call mainly, being sick. Oh, the list is endless,” I murmur, feeling my skin
coloring up. Please, please can I die now?
“We’ve all been here, perhaps not quite as dramatically as you,” he says dryly. “It’s
about knowing your limits, Anastasia. I mean, I’m all for pushing limits, but really this is
beyond the pale. Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior?”
My head buzzes with excess alcohol and irritation. What the hell has it got to do with
him? I didn’t invite him here. He sounds like a middle-aged man scolding me like an er-
rant child. Part of me wants to say, if I want to get drunk every night like this, then it’s my
decision and nothing to do with him – but I’m not brave enough. Not now that I’ve thrown
up in front of him. Why is he still standing there?
“No,” I say contritely. “I’ve never been drunk before and right now I have no desire
to ever be again.”
I just don’t understand why he’s here. I begin to feel faint. He notices my dizziness and
grabs me before I fall and hoists me into his arms, holding me close to his chest like a child.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he murmurs.
“I need to tell Kate.” Holy Moses, I’m in his arms again.
“My brother can tell her.”
“What?”
“My brother Elliot is talking to Miss Kavanagh.”
“Oh?” I don’t understand.
“He was with me when you phoned.”
“In Seattle?” I’m confused.
“No, I’m staying at the Heathman.”
Still? Why?
“How did you find me?”
“I tracked your cell phone Anastasia.”
Oh, of course he did. How is that possible? Is it legal? Stalker,my subconscious
whispers at me through the cloud of tequila that’s still floating in my brain, but somehow,
because it’s him, I don’t mind.
“Do you have a jacket or a purse?”
“Err… yes, I came with both. Christian, please, I need to tell Kate. She’ll worry.” His
mouth presses into a hard line, and he sighs heavily.
“If you must.”
He sets me down, and, taking my hand, leads me back into the bar. I feel weak, still
drunk, embarrassed, exhausted, mortified, and on some strange level absolutely off the
scale thrilled. He’s clutching my hand – such a confusing array of emotions. I’ll need at
least a week to process them all.
It’s noisy, crowded, and the music has started so there is a large crowd on the dance
floor. Kate is not at our table, and José has disappeared. Levi looks lost and forlorn on his
own.“Where’s Kate?” I shout at Levi above the noise. My head is begi
time to the thumping bass line of the music.
“Dancing,” Levi shouts, and I can tell he’s mad. He’s eyeing Christian suspiciously.