Guinevere Steel was just helping her sister Anastasia and their best friend Kate. out when she got more than she wanted to bargain for when she almost fell on top of her sister in his office. Meeting him was life changing for both sisters but Gui...
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Standing in my bedroom working on my outfit for the day, picking out flats or boots to match my outfit of black skinny jeans, blue satin and I guess boots.
"Come on Guin let's go!" My sister Anastaisa called for me.
"Coming, Ana," I responded to my sister's yelling.
Walking out of my bedroom in our three-bedroom two-bathroom apartment I saw Ana waiting.
"Sorry, Ana." I apologized.
"It's okay." She replied.
The two of us ran out to the living room to see our best friends Kate Kavanagh who was sitting with her laptop on the couch suffering from the flu
"Ana Guin, take my car," Kate told us.
Kate looked at us.
"I gave you the recorder right?" She asked.
Anastasia felt around looking for it and found it in the pocket of her sweater.
" Oh, yes." She responded to Kate.
"And you have all the questions?" Kate questioned me.
"Yes." I responded.
"And you know where you're going?" Kate asked.
"Yes, I do have a GPS and between the two of us an eight-point GPA." Anastasia jokes...
'I can figure it out." Anastasia said.
"And if she gets lost well I'll try and figure it out," I told a very worried Kate.
"You're wearing that?"' Kate asked Anastaisa
Kate looked at Anastasia's outfit of a white floral blouse with a blue skirt, blue sweater tights, and a pair of boots.
"Okay, a little less talking, more eating," Anastasia told her friend.
"And who's doing what?" Kate asked.
"Ana is recording and I'm asking and writing questions," I responded.
"Okay well, you need to get going," Kate told the pair of twins.
The two of us headed to Kate's Mercedes CLK instead of driving Wonda Anastasia Old BM Volkswagon. Mines was a newer model mustang but it's a lemon cause I always have it in the shop.
The roads are clear as we set off from Vancouver, Washington, toward Interstate 5. It's early, and we don't have to be in Seattle until two this afternoon. Our destination is the headquarters of Mr. Grey's global enterprise.
It's a huge twenty-story office building, all curved glass, and steel, an architect's utilitarian fantasy, with GREY HOUSE written discreetly in steel over the glass front doors. It's a quarter to two when we arrive, greatly relieved that we are not late.
