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why should he? Again, I’m irritated that Kate didn’t give me a brief biography.
While cruising along the I-5, my mind continues to wander. I’m truly perplexed as to
what makes someone so driven to succeed. Some of his answers were so cryptic – as if
he had a hidden agenda. And Kate’s questions – ugh! The adoption and asking him if he
was gay! I shudder. I can’t believe I said that. Ground, swallow me up now!Every time
I think of that question in the future, I will cringe with embarrassment. Damn Katherine
Kavanagh!
I check the speedometer. I’m driving more cautiously than I would on any other occa-
sion. And I know it’s the memory of two penetrating gray eyes gazing at me, and a stern
voice telling me to drive carefully. Shaking my head, I realize that Grey’s more like a man
double his age.
Forget it, Ana,I scold myself. I decide that all in all, it’s been a very interesting expe-
rience, but I shouldn’t dwell on it . Put it behind you.I never have to see him again. I’m
immediately cheered by the thought. I switch on the MP3 player and turn the volume up
loud, sit back, and listen to thumping indie rock music as I press down on the accelerator.
As I hit the 1-5, I realize I can drive as fast as I want.
We live in a small community of duplex apartments in Vancouver, Washington, close to the
Vancouver campus of WSU. I’m lucky – Kate’s parents bought the place for her, and I pay
peanuts for rent. It’s been home for four years now. As I pull up outside, I know Kate is go-
ing to want a blow-by-blow account, and she is tenacious. Well, at least she has the mini-
disc. Hopefully I won’t have to elaborate much beyond what was said during the interview.
“Ana! You’re back.” Kate sits in our living area, surrounded by books. She’s clearly
been studying for finals – though she’s still in her pink fla
little rabbits, the ones she reserves for the aftermath of breaking up with boyfriends, for
assorted illnesses, and for general moody depression. She bounds up to me and hugs me
hard.
“I was begi
“Oh, I thought I made good time considering the interview ran over.” I wave the mini-
disc recorder at her.
“Ana, thank you so much for doing this. I owe you, I know. How was it? What was
he like?” Oh no – here we go, the Katherine Kavanagh Inquisition.
I struggle to answer her question. What can I say?
“I’m glad it’s over, and I don’t have to see him again. He was rather intimidating, you
know.” I shrug. “He’s very focused, intense even – and young. Really young.”
Kate gazes i
“Don’t you look so i
like such an idiot for skimping on basic research.” Kate clamps a hand to her mouth.
“Jeez, Ana, I’m sorry – I didn’t think.”
I huff.
“Mostly he was courteous, formal, slightly stuffy – like he’s old before his time. He
doesn’t talk like a man of twenty-something. How old ishe anyway?”
“Twenty-seven. Jeez, Ana, I’m sorry. I should have briefed you, but I was in such a
panic. Let me have the mini-disc, and I’ll start transcribing the interview.”
“You look better. Did you eat your soup?” I ask, keen to change the subject.
“Yes, and it was delicious as usual. I’m feeling much better.” She smiles at me in grati-
tude. I check my watch.
“I have to run. I can still make my shift at Clayton’s.”
“Ana, you’ll be exhausted.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”
I’ve worked at Clayton’s since I started at WSU. It’s the largest independent hardware
store in the Portland area, and over the four years I’ve worked here, I’ve come to know a
little bit about most everything we sell – although ironically, I’m crap at any DIY. I leave
all that to my dad. I’m much more of a curl-up-with-a-book-in-a-comfy-chair-by-the-fire
kind of girl. I’m glad I can make my shift as it gives me something to focus on that isn’t
Christian Grey. We’re busy – it’s the start of the summer season, and folks are redecorating
their homes. Mrs. Clayton is pleased to see me.
“Ana! I thought you weren’t going to make it today.”
“My appointment didn’t take as long as I thought. I can do a couple of hours.”
“I’m real pleased to see you.”
She sends me to the storeroom to start re-stocking shelves, and I’m soon absorbed in
the task.
When I arrive home later, Katherine is wearing headphones and working on her laptop.
Her nose is still pink, but she has her teeth into a story, so she’s concentrating and typing
furiously. I’m thoroughly drained – exhausted by the long drive, the grueling interview,
and by being rushed off my feet at Clayton’s. I slump on to the couch, thinking about the
essay I have to finish and all the studying I haven’t done today because I was holed up
with … him.
“You’ve got some good stuff here, Ana. Well done. I can’t believe you didn’t take him
up on his offer to show you around. He obviously wanted to spend more time with you.”
She gives me a fleeting quizzical look.
I flush, and my heart rate inexplicably increases. That wasn’t the reason, surely? He
just wanted to show me around so I could see that he was lord of all he surveyed. I realize
I’m biting my lip, and I hope Kate doesn’t notice. But she seems absorbed in her transcrip-
tion.“I hear what you mean about formal. Did you take any notes?” she asks.
“Um… no, I didn’t.”
“That’s fine. I can still make a fine article with this. Shame we don’t have some origi-
nal stills. Good-looking son of a bitch, isn’t he?”
I flush.
“I suppose so.” I try hard to sound disinterested, and I think I succeed.
“Oh come on, Ana – even you can’t be immune to his looks.” She arches a perfect
eyebrow at me.
Crap!I distract her with flattery, always a good ploy.
“You probably would have got a lot more out of him.”
“I doubt that, Ana. Come on – he practically offered you a job. Given that I foisted this
on you at the last minute, you did very well.” She glances up at me speculatively. I make
a hasty retreat into the kitchen.
“So what did you really think of him?” Damn, she’s inquisitive. Why can’t she just let
this go? Think of something – quick.
“He’s very driven, controlling, arrogant – scary really, but very charismatic. I can un-
derstand the fascination,” I add truthfully, as I peer round the door at her hoping this will
shut her up once and for all.
“You, fascinated by a man? That’s a first,” she snorts.
I start gathering the makings of a sandwich so she can’t see my face.
“Why did you want to know if he was gay? Incidentally, that was the most embarrass-
ing question. I was mortified, and he was pissed to be asked too.” I scowl at the memory.
“Whenever he’s in the society pages, he never has a date.”
“It was embarrassing. The whole thing was embarrassing. I’m glad I’ll never have to
lay eyes on him again.”
“Oh, Ana, it can’t have been that bad. I think he sounds quite taken with you.”
Taken with me?Now Kate’s being ridiculous.
“Would you like a sandwich?”
“Please.”
We talk no more of Christian Grey that evening, much to my relief. Once we’ve eaten,
I’m able to sit at the dining table with Kate and, while she works on her article, I work on
my essay on Tess of the D’Urbervilles.Damn, but that woman was in the wrong place at
the wrong time in the wrong century. By the time I finish, it’s midnight, and Kate has long
since gone to bed. I make my way to my room, exhausted, but pleased that I’ve accom-