have no idea.
“I thought you’d knocked her up.”
I go cold. “Fuck off, bro. I’m not that careless. Ana’s far too young for kids. We have a life to live before we get into all that shit.”
Elliot laughs. “You with kids. That’ll loosen you up.”
I ignore him. “Have you heard from Mia?”
“She’s chasing cock.”
“What?”
“Kate’s brother. I don’t think he’s interested.”
“I dislike the words cock and Mia in the same sentence.”
“She’s not a kid anymore, hotshot. You know, she’s only slightly younger than Ana and Kate.”
I’d rather not think about that.
“Are we playing pool or watching the game?” He wisely changes the subject.
“Whatever you want, bro, whatever you want.” We pull into the underground garage at Escala while I’m still trying not to think about Mia and Ethan Kavanagh.
Elliot is snoring in front of the TV. He works too damned hard, he plays too damned hard, but he’ll sleep off his overconsumption of beer in the spare bedroom. We’ve had a chill evening: we watched highlights of the Mariners-Angels game (Mariners lost), he thrashed me at Call of Duty, but I won at pool, for a change. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be at Ana’s apartment to help move the rest of her belongings here. It’s taken enough time. I glance at my watch, wondering what she might be doing. My phone buzzes, and it’s as if she’s heard my thoughts.
ANA
I’m packed. Missing you.
Sleep well. No nightmares.
This is not a request.
I’m not there to hold you.
Love you. ♥
Her words warm my heart. Flynn said our recent fight was just a small setback; I hope he’s right. I text back.
Dream of me.
I hope to dream of you.
No nightmares.
ANA
Promise?
No promises.
Just hope. And dreams.
And love. For you.
ANA
You once said you don’t do romance.
I’m so glad that you’re wrong.
I’m swooning here!
I love you, Christian.
Good night xxx.
Good night, Ana.
I like to make you swoon.
I love you. Always. x
Monday, July 11, 2011
I read through the press release that I’ve rewritten for Sam.
For Immediate Release
GREY ENTERPRISES HOLDINGS INC. ACQUIRES
SEATTLE INDEPENDENT PUBLISHING
Seattle, WA, July 11, 2011—Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc., (GEH) announces the acquisition of Seattle Independent Publishing (SIP) of Seattle, WA, for $15 million.
A spokesperson for GEH stated: “GEH is thrilled to add SIP to its portfolio of local companies.” CEO Christian Grey said, “I’m eager to branch into publishing and to use GEH’s technological expertise to grow SIP and further develop a solid publishing platform that offers a voice to authors based in the Pacific Northwest.”
Seattle Independent Publishing was founded thirty-two years ago by Jeremy Roach, who will continue as CEO. SIP has had considerable success championing local authors, including three-time USA Today bestseller Bee Edmonston and poet and performance artist Keon Kinger, whose latest collection, By the Sound, was shortlisted for the prestigious Arthur Rense Prize in 2010.
SIP will continue to function independently and will retain all thirty-two of its employees. Roach said, “This is a tremendous opportunity for all the staff and the authors at SIP, and we’re very excited to see where our partnership with GEH will take us over the next decade and beyond.”
All inquiries to Sam Saster
VP, Director of Publicity, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
Ana’s words come back to me. Of course I’m mad at you. I mean, what kind of responsible business executive makes decisions based on who he is currently fucking?
I do, Ana.
But only because I’m fucking you.
Memories of her tied to her little white bed, slick and sticky with ice cream, me attempting to chop peppers, her calling me an ass, float into my head. I glance at my glider. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to obey, because she thinks I’m an ass.
Grey. Enough.
Doubt is an ugly, futile feeling.
This is my new mantra. Flynn said our dispute was a small setback. All relationships have them. She’s moved in with me, and we’re getting married in less than three weeks. What more do I want?
Damn. I wish we were married already. The wait is shredding my nerves. I don’t want her to change her mind. She’s been quiet this weekend. We were busy moving her stuff into the apartment, and she’s been knee-deep in wedding preparations.
She’s just tired.
Stop with the negative, Grey.
Focus on the matter in hand.
I pick up the phone and call Sam.
“Christian.”
Sometimes it really grates on my nerves when he uses my first name. In an arctic tone I inform him, “I’ve sent you a revised, less wordy press release. Brevity is everything. Try and remember that.”
“As you wish, Mr. Grey.”
Good. Point made.
“And, Sam, delete the price and put ‘undisclosed sum.’”
“Will do.”
I