𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘//𝐁.𝐄

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗

Anastasia opens the passenger side door to the black Audi SUV, and I clamber in. It's a beast of a car. She hasn't mentioned the outburst of passion that exploded in the elevator. Should I? Should we talk about it or pretend that it didn't happen? It hardly seems real, my first proper no-holds-barred kiss. As time ticks on, I assign it mythical, Arthurian legend, Lost City of Atlantis status. It never happened, it never existed. Perhaps I imagined it all. No. I touch my lips, swollen from her kiss. It definitely happened. I am a changed woman. I want this woman desperately, and she wanted me. I glance at her. Anastasia is her usual polite, slightly distant self. 

How confusing. 

She starts the engine and reverses out of her space in the parking lot. She switches on the sound system. The car interior is filled with the sweetest, most magical music of two women singing. Oh wow ... all my senses are in disarray, so this is doubly affecting. It sends delicious shivers up my spine.

Anastasia pulls out onto Southwest Park Avenue, and she drives with easy, lazy confidence.

"What are we listening to?"

"It's 'The Flower Duet' by Delibes, from the opera Lakmé. Do you like it?"

"Anastasia, it's wonderful."

"It is, isn't it?" She grins, glancing at me. And for a fleeting moment, she seems her age: young, carefree, and heart-stoppingly beautiful. Is this the key to her? Music? I sit and listen to the angelic voices teasing and seducing me.

"Can I hear that again?"

"Of course." Anastasia pushes a button, and the music is caressing me once more. It's a gentle, slow, sweet, and sure assault on my aural senses.

"You like classical music?" I ask, hoping for a rare insight into her personal preferences.

"My taste is eclectic, Billie, everything from Thomas Tallis to the Kings of Leon. It depends on my mood. You?"

"Me, too. Though I don't know who Thomas Tallis is." She turns and gazes at me briefly before her eyes are back on the road.

"I'll play it for you sometime. He's a sixteenth-century British composer. Tudor, church choral music." Anastasia grins at me."Sounds very esoteric, I know, but it's also magical." She presses a button and the Kings of Leon start singing. Hmm ... this I know. "Sex on Fire." How appropriate. The music is interrupted by the sound of a cell phone ringing over the sound system speakers. Anastasia hits a button on the steering wheel.

"Grey," She snaps. She's so brusque.

"Ms. Grey, it's Welch here. I have the information you require." A rasping, disembodied voice comes over the speakers.

"Good. E-mail it to me. Anything to add?"

"No, ma'am." She presses the button, then the call ceases and the music is back. No good-bye or thanks. I'm so glad that I never seriously entertained the thought of working for her. I shudder at the very idea. She's just too controlling and cold with her employees. The music cuts o again for the phone.

"Grey."

"The NDA has been e-mailed to you, Ms. Grey." A woman's voice.

"Good. That's all, Andrea."

"Good day, ma'am." Anastasia hangs up by pressing a button on the steering wheel. The music is on very briefly when the phone rings again. Holy hell, is this her life—constant nagging phone calls?

"Grey," he snaps.

"Hi, Anastasia, d'you get laid?"

"Hello, Alex—I'm on speakerphone, and I'm not alone in the car." Anastasia sighs.